The inaugural post...

So, evidently by doing this I have become a "blogger". Strange to think that two or three years ago I didn't even know what the term meant but now, thanks in no small part to my friend David Henderson, I have this little thing called google reader and it does all the work for me. I have developed an addiction of sorts and thought to myself, what's the next step. Logically, it seemed that the next step would be to add to the blog clutter by creating one of my own. How lucky for the world. I figured I might end up using this to post thoughts, comments, questions, etc. about what we do ministry wise for the youth to comment on, but I figured why not put out a few things I'm thinking about or noticing as well. Maybe start a controversy or two. Could be fun. But I'll lead off easy.

First, as I was updating my profile, searching for that perfect picture that just totally defines "me" (still haven't found it though the picture of me in New Orleans wearing the feather pimp hat may make an appearance) I came across a section asking me about my job. And before I could even get to the scrolling option I knew the word would appear. "Religion". I kind of winced even as I selected it because the subject was not occupation but industry. Religion as industry. Discuss.

In other news, two things that kind of irked me a bit as a youth minister of almost 8.5 years. Church Council meeting was a few nights ago. The church budget for the coming year needed approval. Now, I make about 40 to 50% of these meetings but I always make this one so that I can a) make sure I can answer any questions about my submitted budget and b) watch seemingly intelligent people ask ridiculously dumb questions. As the meeting drew to a close, no really dumb questions yet and I really was growing disappointed. The meeting adjourned and no one even wanted to argue with the 11% increase in my budget (mostly to help defer seminary costs). Sheesh, what's a guy gotta do to get somebody upset. But then, as I was leaving, a well meaning member of the congregation who never misses these meetings grabbed me on my way out of the door and asked me, "So, I noticed your budget is one of the bigger increases (true, though several other areas had larger) this year. Are we going to see a bumper crop this year?"

Now, these sorts of questions give me pause as I cycle through the variety of responses I could offer. "Depends on whether the DDT takes effect (that's an old pesticide by the way)." "Don't know, but I'll bring you a bushel of corn as soon as it comes in." "Are you insane?!?" "No." "Yes." These and others go rolling around. Sarcasm is frequently my response of choice but it did not seem appropriate so I explained that I was looking for some help paying for seminary classes and this gentleman proceeded to talk right over me telling me how he thought we ought to have kids just pouring out of the windows (instead of growing out of the dirt I guess as previously suggested). I stopped talking, smiled, and walked in the opposite direction.

Here's my response, and I'll shorten it because I am already going on forever but if you've stuck with me I figure you might be interested. Youth, children, adults, people ARE NOT CROPS. They aren't commodities. They aren't "investments". They are not anything but God's created people. I'm tired of watching the worth of ministers, youth ministers and those who help lead youth groups, children's ministers, and others be determined by how many people show up at the door. Is this some indication of success? If 100 kids aren't streaming out of here every Sunday night, am I a bad youth director? God I hope not.

On to annoying thing number 2. So I am sitting in the youth room last night playing Grand Tourismo with a youth in my group. At some point in the middle of the absolute whipping this youth is putting on me, he says, "I thought you would be better at this. Don't you have all kinds of free time to play these games during the day?" I respond, probably overly annoyed, "No, in fact, before today, the last time I played this PS2 was on a trip this summer with you all. I work during the day." He says, "Well what do you do?" I say, "Plan our retreats. Plan our studies. Keep up with parents. Keep up with you all. Study. Brainstorm. Do obnoxious paperwork like submitting budgets." Then I left and sulked in my office for a little while and remembered, albeit too late, that I also travel 2 hours to school once a week to take classes that will hopefully help me become better at what I do here.

Ego and pride are desperate little beasts that just eat away at you all of the time. I love what I do and take it seriously but honestly, how I can expect any youth in my group to really understand the work and effort that goes into youth ministry? How can you really relate taking home the anxiety and pain over a youth who has withdrawn? How can you make them know that the job goes with you wherever you go in your thoughts, on your cell phone, in your email?

If God is pleased then I have to be content with that. Asking people to respect what we (meaning me and my amazing group of counselors) do whether we have 20 kids or 70, may not really be realistic. And expecting the youth to have a perspective on the passion we hold for youth ministry and their lives may be too much. Maybe it's good that we make it look easy.

Here's hoping we see a bunch of folks on our Winter Retreat this year. One of my favorite trips and definitely one where the more the merrier holds true. But I'll work on not getting caught up in the numbers game at the same time.