If you’re like me, the coronavirus pandemic took you by total surprise. Sure, I’d watch a documentary here and there, but I never thought about how much my life as a youth minister would change, or how quickly.
You’ve heard it a million times by now: This is unprecedented. As a youth ministry community, we have never been here before.
…Or have we?
When the pandemic began to affect my region directly, I found myself doing exactly what I did at the start of my youth ministry career: I enthusiastically jumped into my comfort zone.
For me, that meant creating elaborate structures to preserve my expectations of what youth ministry is supposed to be. I went into maintenance mode: I moved my status quo online. Check!
Then, I looked around at what other churches and youth ministries were doing, and I started getting inspired (and maybe a little jealous?).
I started to collect “stuff,” looking for the next exciting graphic, prayer, event, social media strategy, video curriculum, icebreaker game, and hook that would grab my teens’ attention.
I realized that parents are meant to be the primary teachers of their children in faith and that they will always have more influence on their children than I will. Especially now while they’re all stuck at home. Maybe I should focus on parents?
I remembered the family is meant to be the “Domestic Church,” where the Body of Christ is fleshed out day to day. Maybe I should direct my energy toward fostering faith within the family? (Wait…what about my own family? Perhaps I should start there)
Begrudgingly, I fulfilled my obligations to the whole Church community, the ones I had been assigned despite (because of) my role. (I have to make calls to seniors? Senior CITIZENS? You know I’m a Millennial, right?)
Despite my resistance, I re-discovered the beauty of a personal phone call while listening to the stories of people who are decidedly NOT young. I recall that ministry is all about the relational, the power of individuals being truly known and loved. I want that for my whole church! How do I make that happen FOR MY WHOLE CHURCH?
Then I hit a wall. Sound familiar? Finally, I recognized what’s going on: this experience of ministry amid global pandemic is nothing more or less than the youth ministry journey, accelerated.
I have seen so many youth ministers follow this same trajectory:
They probably need to look different than before the pandemic (working from home with a toddler and infant, alongside a working spouse, is a whole new adventure). You MUST create ways to protect your time and attention (especially Sabbath time, including at least a full day off) or you WILL burn out!
It goes without saying, but the foundational task of pastoral care is to keep our teens (and everyone else we work with) safe. Make sure you understand the safe environment policies of your church, and how they apply during this time. Be as picky about your volunteers as you were when meeting in person. Stay alert to subtle signs that someone you are encountering needs help, and know what your next steps should be.
There is so much to learn about our faith, many professional skills to hone, and wisdom to glean from fellow youth ministers. Pick one or two things to focus on, and let that growth feed you and bolster the areas where you are already strong.
Enlist, train, and support volunteers, and accompany them, first and foremost. Stay in communication with your boss and staff, and help them where you can. Support parents in their vocation before expending all your energy on attracting the admittedly fickle attention of teenagers.
It’s simple: there isn’t one.
While there’s no silver bullet or perfect solution, there is one truth that never steers us wrong: Jesus is the Savior, not me. It’s God’s ministry, not mine. I am part of a Body, perhaps not even a very critical role.
And God is deep in the mess with us: the Father who intimately fashioned Adam with dirt and hands and breath, the Son who became human and died and rose to reveal God’s love, the Spirit who groans within us deepest selves and gives us the words where we have none.
It’s our job to point out God in a mess—most importantly to ourselves. If we start and end there, the journey has not been in vain.