Two middle schoolers started showing up at the parish almost every day after school. They weren’t in sports, they didn’t have much homework, and for whatever reason—they just wanted to be at the church.
They joined our tech team and found some old computer parts in storage. With the pastor’s permission, they started tinkering. Before long, they were helping staff troubleshoot computers and fix little tech issues. They were part of the family.
Then one day our facilities manager came to me and said, “Chris, those kids you see hanging around—they’ve built something in the back hall. You might want to check it out. It’s starting to eat into our energy bill.”
I thought, How does a middle schooler build something that shows up on the utility report?
So I went back, and there it was: they had built a full-blown supercomputer server out of leftover parts.
We eventually had to tell them to dismantle it, but it didn’t stop them from sticking around. They kept building, serving, and being present. A few years later, one of them even came back as our parish IT coordinator and worship leader.
And here’s what that experience reminded me: when you create space for people to belong, explore, and take risks—ministry takes on a life of its own.
RELATIONAL MINISTRY REQUIRES RELATIONAL INVESTMENT
I always loved my students, but conveying that wasn’t easy until I learned the importance of soft skills like listening, adaptability, and communication. Ministry isn’t just about showing up with a lesson plan. It’s about learning how to enter into someone’s world.
Those little moments—grabbing a bite to eat with a volunteer, chatting with a teen while they wait for a ride, walking with a parent through a struggle—those are the things that build trust. They don’t show up on a strategic plan, but they’re what keep people rooted in your ministry.
RADICAL HOSPITALITY RESONATES
Programs matter. Content matters. But if people walk into a space and feel invisible, none of that sticks. That’s why I always showed up early—to set up, yes, but also to make sure the room felt welcoming.
I cringed when the worship band struggled or when a volunteer ignored a teen walking through the door. Those moments reminded me: we can’t just “run” programs; we need to host people. Hospitality is what lowers walls so that the Gospel can break through.
When we got it right, the ministry wasn’t just an event. It was an environment where people knew they were loved and accepted. And that makes all the difference.
TAKING RISKS ALWAYS LEADS TO GROWTH
Youth ministry gave me the courage to experiment. Teens were quick to forgive when things flopped, and that freedom to fail led to growth.
When I stepped into other areas of ministry, I saw the same truth: risk-taking fuels innovation. Playing it safe rarely inspires. Taking risks doesn’t mean being reckless—it means trusting that even failure can be formative.
The wins energize people. The mistakes teach us something new. Either way, you move forward stronger.
Content is important—you can’t pass on the faith without it. But people don’t stay because of content alone. They stay because of relationships, hospitality, and the risks you were willing to take for them.
If you want your ministry to grow, don’t just build better programs. Build trust. Create spaces that feel like home. And don’t be afraid to try something new.
That’s when ministry stops being something you run—and starts being something people live.