The tagline on my church's business card is, "where every member is a minister." It’s a strong and unapologetic endorsement of the priesthood of all believers. My church is located on “the strip,” and our membership ranges from college-graduated business people to street-educated business people. Look across the sanctuary on a typical Sunday, and you’ll see everything from the stay-at-home mom who’s happy to be around other loving, caring, full-sentence-speaking adults to the recovering drug addict who is likewise happy to be in the same company. As I stand in the pulpit and see the members talking, laughing, loving, praying for, and giving to each other, it’s not hard to see them all as co-ministers. It's easy—until you see them sin.
In my position, you get to hear and celebrate all the testimonies that get reported. Unfortunately, you get the unpleasant task of hearing and knowing about people’s struggles, slip-ups, and downright failures in living the righteous life. And If I’m completely honest, even though I believe in our church slogan, there’s a side of me that sometimes says, “Everyone’s a minister…except him.” I know, I know. We all sin, but my sin ain't as big as theirs. At least, that’s what I tell myself. My sin is still inside the boundaries of permissible.
Nobody would admit that they think that way out loud. I'm not even admitting it out loud. I'm confessing it behind the safety screen of my computer, where I'm guarded by a degree of anonymity and geography. Truth is, while it's spiritually polite to say we're all priests, I think we secretly harbor a grading chart that systematically disqualifies people who screw up from being able to minister, and I guess I had settled with that religious bigotry until I got a sobering reminder that “every member” means every member, even the ones who mess up.
Allison is a girl from my youth group. She’s had a remarkable summer of rededicating her life to Christ. It’s a change you can see. She’s brighter, happier, and more purposeful. At youth group she’s stepped out of her shell and has started engaging more. She worships openly now. She comes to the church and volunteers. She Facebooks and tweets scriptures and prayers. She doesn’t really have any obvious aspirations to be in ministry, but she’s definitely taken on the priestly robe. I’m proud of her.
One day, Allison sent me a text message that read, “I need to make a confession.” My stomach dropped, but then I thought, How bad can it be? Maybe she cheated on a test? Lied to her mom? Thought negatively about me or some kids in the group? Whatever it is, it’s probably nothing really serious. So we met, and as we sat on the floor, she recounted recent events that left me speechless. Nothing serious? I couldn’t have been more wrong. When she finished, there was silence. Words escaped me, but I had thoughts that there was no way that she was gonna be a minister at youth group right now. At least, not up front.
As we began to talk through her confession (and recover from it), her countenance shifted. Her head lowered. Tears rolled continuously down her face, so much so that she gave up on wiping them away. It wasn’t a loud and obnoxious cry, but it was clearly coming from deep within. I could tell that this had gone from being a disappointment in herself to a real and true godly sorrow. As I looked at her, I flashed back. I suddenly had a rush of remembering that moment when the last thing I wanted to do was hurt God's heart. Sitting with her in that broken space made me really reflect on the many transgressions of my life. And not just on my transgressions but on the days when contrition was right.
In truth, I’ve come to a place where some days I sin and think, Ehhh, no biggie. God and I are cool. I'm still going to heaven. But in this moment, as I watched this teenage girl confessing and lamenting, she ministered to me. She truly ministered to me. As she was walking and working out the salvation, love, and reverence for God that I had taught her about, she re-taught it to me in turn. Sitting in this moment of confession, she ministered to me. As Jesus used the woman caught in adultery to teach the self-righteous crowd of onlookers, so God used this girl to teach me. And I was just one judgmental thought away from missing it. A defining reminder that yes, indeed, the priesthood of all believers is real, at work, and nobody—even those who sin or struggle—is disqualified.
My perspective on ministry changed years ago as I began to become more exposed to the concept of mentoring as a means of discipleship. Through working with youth more intentionally, both formally and informally, one on one, I realized that the depth of relationships began to grow exponentially. Simply put, by making it a priority of our organization for leaders to spend time with youth weekly, I was able to create an environment where we could hear where youth were. It was real-time learning at the grassroots level, and youth were looking forward to our meetings since they loved to have an opportunity to share their stories.
More adult leaders were interested in serving due in part to the opportunity on their part to share from their experiences as well as provide words of encouragement and correction. Authentic LA found that mentoring relationships proved more meaningful than simply sharing a generic sermon from the platform hoping it would hit the youth where they were at.
Previously, my youth ministry experience was more reflective of a modeling perspective of ministry. Here, events were crafted so youth would experience God in the confines of church buildings and Christian camps. Leaders sought to help youth relate to God in the safety of ministry functions, centered largely on preaching and worship. There was a large emphasis on understanding who God was, with little time spent by leaders seeking to understand who the youth were outside ministry functions. Leaders didn't venture into the homes or schools of youth or actively seek out youth to build relationships with them outside of ministry activities to hang out, chat, or learn. Instead, youth were audience members, being entertained rather than trained to be and make disciples where they were. It was more about engaging youth and hoping they would continue to invite their classmates to ministry events.
The differences between these two types of ministries truly illustrate an organization’s commitment to empowerment. The biblical concept on this subject is the priesthood of all believers. The idea that everyone not only has access to God but also is empowered to live out their callings is what the priesthood of all believers is about. The question I was faced with years ago was, How are we preparing the youth in this ministry to be disciples right now? On a day-to-day level among youth, my role is that of both a model and a mentor. I am a living work in progress who is accessible in my home and can be found seeking out relationships with youth outside of ministry activities. I am a leader who helps provide accountability, support, and tangible resources to youth so they can live out their callings.
From an structural level, I am responsible for helping organize the mentoring aspect of the ministry. This includes recruiting, training, and providing ongoing support and resources to adult mentors. I also help to shape the direction of the ministry with other leaders as well as lead some of the weekly transformational small groups that provide the dynamic venue for youth to develop as disciples.
We have a love/hate relationship with the priesthood of all believers. We’re quick to bring it up as core to our movement when we are looking for volunteers. But we dismiss it altogether when it gets in the way of our plans or our vision for our ministry.
If you listen to pop-culture church leadership, you’ll hear a devaluation of the priesthood of all believers. Ideally, when you strip away all the fluffy language, current church leadership mantras prefer the congregation serves the vision of the staff. To really grow, so they say, you need to get the congregation out of the decision-making and vision-casting—but most importantly keep them off the stage. Leadership is for professionals, they argue.
This is a short-sighted view of church leadership. True, throughout history we can point to times when church leadership had a high-control, low-congregational ownership style. But those weren’t good times, and they almost always led to massive fractures in their respective movements.
I’m happy to serve in a high school ministry who thinks that is just as limiting to the gospel as I do. If you were to visit the high school ministry of Journey Community Church any given Sunday, you’d have a hard time figuring out who is on staff, who is a volunteer, and who is a student leader.
It’s not that Brian Berry, Journey’s pastor of generations, doesn’t have the skills to lead everything or the leadership savvy to promote himself as in charge. It’s that he sees his role as an empowerer and releaser of their Spirit-driven creativity.
Outside of our Sunday morning youth service and our Wednesday night small groups, the priesthood of all believers is exhibited in the open-handedness of students living out their faith. A key component to this is a program versus ministry perspective. We don’t really care if you’re part of our program. Yes, we love our program, and it’s built for students’ needs from the ground up. But, rather than limit student involvement to our program, we invite them into our ministry. That’s a subtle yet important distinction.
That doesn’t mean we just let our students do whatever they want. But it does mean that the first question isn’t, “Will you help me with my thing?” It’s, “How can I help you with my thing?”
Here’s my encouragement, particularly to those just getting started in youth ministry. Take the time to understand the role of a shepherd. Don’t study modern church leadership ideas. Take the time to learn how the shepherd manages his flock.
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