Chris Folmsbee


Story is everything when we share our faith. After all, what is the gospel but the story of God’s will, way, and work of providing salvation and justice for all of humanity through the gift of God’s son, Jesus Christ?

Here are 10 ways that story plays into faith sharing:

Story makes things personal. It makes a personal God and a personal relationship with God comprehendible.

Story provides meaning. What else makes sense of this world and our place in this world but the story of God, self, others, and the world?

Story connects to community. It helps people connect to a people, a history, or a greater context.

Story connects people with people. While story connects people to a broader people, it also connects individuals to others with like affinities.

Story evokes the imagination. While history (in the classic sense) can feel stale to many, story can open up new possibilities. Story can help people visualize how their lives might be different.

Story provides purpose. Connection to a people, particularly the people of God, links not-yet believers to a grand mission in which to engage and to live out.

Story provides explanation. For many, story helps them make sense of their inner selves in light of the outer world.

Story produces forward thinking. Story has a way of making people who engage the story focus in on its ending. Story helps people make sense of the redemptive plan of God.

Story imparts compassion. On a personal level, understanding one another in light of others’ experiences and situations builds within each of us compassion to see with new, soft eyes of grace.

Story constructs a unique expression. Each of us has our own way of responding to the will, way, and work of God. Story helps not-yet believers find their place in God’s epic story.




 





Brooklyn Lindsey


Before I suggest how story fits in sharing our faith I think it’s important to think about the goal of our faith. Take a look at 1 Peter 1:8-9. Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the goal of your faith, the salvation of your souls.

The goal of our faith is the salvation of our souls—not just mine but yours too. We’re all in the same boat when it comes to where we start on the path to redemption. And it’s in that redemption, through Christ, that God is making all things new—restoring the imago Dei, or image of God, in the things that have been created for God’s glory.

For everyone has sinned; we all fall short of God’s glorious standard. Yet God, with undeserved kindness, declares that we are righteous. He did this through Christ Jesus when he freed us from the penalty for our sins. Romans 3:23-24.

Donald Miller has a great understanding of story and how it helps us reach our goals—ours being the salvation of our souls, through the work of Christ. Miller writes in his blog why many goals don’t get met. “It’s because their goals aren’t embedded in the context of a narrative.”

In his book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, you would see that he has reorganized his life into stories rather than goals. He mentions that he likes goals and sets them but notes this: “Without an overarching plot, goals don’t make sense and are hard to achieve. A story gives a goal a narrative context that forces you to engage and follow through.”

For example, I could set a goal to go without coffee and soda for a year. It’s a good goal. My blood sugar would love me for it, but knowing me, I would fail superbly. But if I put my goal into the context of a story, I might be able to do it. Let’s say giving up caffeine consumption for a year would save me around $500 a year—$500 is about half the money it takes to give $50 a month to the International Justice Mission (lawyers and caregivers who fight for the cause of the oppressed) for a yearly commitment to being a freedom partner. Let’s say I found a friend who also had this same passion. We decide, together, to save every penny we would spend on beverages for this cause in 2011 to raise the $1,000 to be partners in rescuing the oppressed. In this context, I wouldn’t fail—because the story gives life and meaning to the goal.

God knew we needed a story. God knew the importance of inspiring the writers of the Bible to preserve the details—we needed to know. Why? Because we needed to know reason we need redemption in the first place; we needed to know the depth of God’s love and sacrifice so we could then live in response to it. It changes the way we look at our goals.

When Jesus responded to the learners’ question about the most important way to live, he ranked loving God with our entire beings and loving our neighbors together as number one. He set a goal. He was telling his disciples the way to follow him. But he also gave them a great story to live in—sharing in his glorious riches through trials and temptations. He gave them the big picture.

Sharing our personal stories with others is the natural extension of the story Jesus told with his life. It’s easier to tell others how much God loves them when we give them the context of how God has loved us. The journey we’ve experienced with God foreshadows what could happen in someone else’s life. The story gives meaning to the sharing of our faith.

Jesus left his earthly story here with us when he gave us the gift of the Spirit. The story of redemption is alive and being played out in our journey. Sharing our stories not only plays a part in sharing our faith; it is how we impart the gospel to others. The Israelites looked back to the Exodus. We look back to the resurrection of Jesus and are able to say he has rescued us from sin and so many other things. Those “things” are our stories—the context of our being rescued—and those stories are compelling and rich and personal. At the same time, those personal stories are collective in the body and useful for the edification and encouragement of the people.

Most people want to be free. Most people want to be forgiven. Most people want to know what it feels like to experience unconditional love. Hearing how you’ve experienced all of these things may just be the bridge to their own stirring and curiosity for God. And in the midst of the telling, we find the gentle and prevenient grace of God doing the important work of love in our hearts.




















Helpful Resources:

Story, Signs, and Sacred Rhythms
by Chris Folmsbee



Mike King


“You have yet to understand that the shortest distance between a human being and Truth is a story.”* -Anthony de Mello

Without story it is impossible to share our faith. Furthermore, it is not possible to even have a faith to share without a story. As Christians, our story begins with these words: “In the beginning God created.” This story unfolds through the creation narratives, the exodus, the priestly accounts, the exile, the coming of Messiah, the gospels, and the church and ends with a glimpse into our future, thus becoming a story that gloriously has no ending. This overarching story of God at work in the world, of humanity’s role in that story, and of Jesus Christ, who is God for us, is a story that is actually alive and still unfolding. It is a true story that gives human beings real life and meaning.

Theologian Harvey Cox, in his book The Seduction of the Spirit wrote, “All human beings have an innate need to hear and tell stories and to have a story to live by… Religion, whatever else it has done, has provided one of the main ways of meeting this abiding need.”*

For us to even have Christian faith means that we have found our story as persons embedded in God’s story. There is a proverb from an anonymous Siberian elder that declares, “If you don’t know the trees you may be lost in the forest, but if you don’t know the stories you may be lost in life.”1

Sharing our faith should not be reduced to a formula focusing on rational arguments and systematic reasoning. Author Madeleine L’Engle weighs in on the role of story and faith. “The language of logical arguments, of proofs, is the language of the limited self we know and can manipulate. But the language of parable and poetry, of storytelling, moves from the imprisoned language of the provable into the freed language of what I must, for lack of another word, continue to call faith.”*

The story of my salvation and faith journey is still being formed. I find my story intertwined with the story found in Scripture. I know that my very life is miraculous. I’m alive. I was created in God’s image. I find myself in the creation story. I also know that I am broken and the image of God in me has been altered by sinfulness. I find my story in God’s movement toward restoration.

At times, it feels like my life resembles the exodus and God’s Spirit is leading me out of bondage. I find the possibility of salvation through the priestly story found in the Old Testament and fulfilled through Jesus Christ, our great High Priest. At other times, my faith story reminds me of the story of exile, and I feel distant from God, longing for restoration.

I am passionate about sharing my faith. I love to stir people’s imaginations to grasp the beginning of our story when God created all human beings in the image of God. Let’s start there. Let’s help the young people in our churches understand that they, along with their friends and all humanity, were created imago Dei. I found that you don’t have to convince people that they are broken and sinful.

Danish author Isak Dinesen declared, “To be a person is to have a story to tell.”* Our story is a wonderful story. It’s a story of creation and beauty. It’s a story of despair because of our brokenness and feeble but tragic attempts to circumvent God’s story. It’s a story that reveals a God who becomes most known to us through Jesus Christ, who makes restoration and new creation possible.

In the gospel of John, chapter one, are these profound words, which tell an amazing story: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it… And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.”

These words make sense because of story—a story that took centuries to develop. Right now, our Youthfront staff is reading the book What Is the Point of Being a Christian?, by Timothy Radcliffe. Last week we read, “It needed thousands of years before there was a language in which God’s word could be spoken in the form of Jesus. We needed all those experiences of liberation and exile, of the building and demolition of kingdoms. We needed innumerable prophets and scribes, poets and parents, struggling to find words before Jesus could be born as the Word.”2

Yes, a good story takes time to unfold. I believe the Christian story is true, and I find my story—the story of my life—in the story of God at work in the world. I can’t help but share it.
1 All quotes marked with * from www.storyteller.net - Quotes about Story and Storytelling, compiled by Patti J. Christensen
2 Radcliffe, Timothy. What is the Point of Being a Christian?, Burns & Oates, New York, 2005, pg. 79



Sarah Arthur


Picture the lone scholar in his study, poring over a biblical text. On the one hand, he is embracing the kind of single-minded passion that the psalmist celebrates in Psalm 119:97: “Oh, how I love your law! It is my meditation all day long.” On the other hand, he is engaged in an activity that is foreign to text’s intent and function.

The Scriptures were not intended primarily for individuals to read in the quietness of their rooms, with private meditation or personal enlightenment the only goal. Rather, as Stephen Fowl and Greg Jones put it in Reading in Communion: Scripture and Ethics in Christian Life, “Scripture is primarily addressed not to individuals but to specific communities called into being by God.” When we read Scripture, we read Scripture. The community of faith reads it together, beginning with the mere act of biblical translation (the work of dozens of scholars in conversation) and then in group Bible studies, but most importantly in worship. And not only do we read it—as if simply hearing and reflecting on the words were enough—but we read it like an orchestra reads a musical score. The goal is faithful performance.

It’s like picking up the text of a Shakespeare play. I can read it on my own, but the whole time, I’m aware that the letters on the page are simply the prompts and cues for a much larger communal production. Writes Nicholas Lash, “The performance of scripture is the life of the church. It is no more possible for an isolated individual to perform these texts than it is for him to perform a Beethoven quartet or a Shakespeare tragedy” (Theology on the Way to Emmaus). This performance takes place in worship, Lash says, but more specifically in the sacrament of communion. Through communion we enact the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus as expressed in the gospels. We hear the Word, speak the Word, sing the Word, ingest the Word, and then leave with the task to share the Word with the world.

In that sense, we are always reading Scripture toward group performance. The scholar in his study, if he is honest with himself, is merely practicing his lines. His dissertation may be an important safeguard for making sure the whole group gets the lines right or puts the proper emphasis on certain phrases or doesn’t overlook the less popular passages, but the dissertation is not the ultimate goal. The goal is his cupped hands at the communion rail—the same hands that will grasp his son in a hug or pick up a mop at the soup kitchen.

But it doesn’t end there. While we may read Scripture toward performance of the text, the performance of the text is also reading us. Take the sacrament of communion again. During the Chilean dictatorship of Pinochet, for instance, the Roman Catholic Church at first was cozy with the regime that silently tortured and eliminated thousands. As William Cavanaugh describes in his powerful book, Torture and Eucharist, the perpetrators of violence were right there on Sunday morning, taking the body and blood of the tortured Christ along with everyone else—even with their victims. And eventually the church began to realize this was deeply, fundamentally wrong. The reading and performance of the Passion each week had begun to read them. So the church began to create a counterculture, a community that offered its own outreach and care to the victims. It no longer endorsed what the government was doing, no longer participated in government programs, even took steps of excommunicating perpetrators of violence.

“The play’s the thing,” said Hamlet, “wherein I’ll catch the conscience of the king.” The faithful performance of the text, which is the goal of reading the lines in the first place, has the curious effect of reading us: of taking our spiritual vitals, gauging our spiritual temperature, pointing out anomalies, holding up mirrors. The two readings cannot be separated. Which should give us pause the next time we advise youth in our ministries to spend time reading their Bibles every day. If we don’t add the important caveat, “There will be a performance on Sunday”—or even, “There will be a performance the minute you leave your room and talk to your mother”—then we’re not being honest about the nature of this text we claim to live by.



 





Chris Folmsbee


Before I even answer this question, let me say this. If you have not read Eat This Book, by Eugene Peterson, go to Amazon and get it now. You will be blessed by its contribution to your spiritual formation.

Now, to the question at hand… Four thoughts come to my mind when asked the difference between reading Scripture and letting Scripture read us. The best way I know to answer this question is through my own life experience. These thoughts may not be true for you, but then again, they might be very true.

1. Accessibility or Authority. When I read the Scriptures, I go looking for something as if I am the authority on the text/subject. When I let the Scripture read me, I go into it with a soul that is open and accessible, able to be reached (for example, during the practice of lectio divina).

2. Practice or Principle. When I let Scripture read me, I am in search of a forming practice or a faith-shaping discipline that transforms me from the inside out. When I go to Scripture, I am often in search of a particular premise or principle. The former is much more difficult and requires more of my conscious effort.

3. Soak or Surface. When I let Scripture read me, it means that I am permeable, and I absorb the truth into my very being. Letting the truth soak into my soul opens up new dimensions of truth. Sometimes, when I read the Scriptures, I am simply searching for truth on the surface.

4. Mission or Myself. Usually when I read Scripture, I am tempted to read into the passage(s) what I need God to do for me or what God has done for me. A particular blessing, perhaps? On the other hand, when I let Scripture read me, I usually end up finding ways that God can use me for the sake of the world, as opposed to me using God.




Andy Root


I really don’t know about this question. It has always bugged me, or at least confused me. Or maybe it has bugged me because it has confused me. I like the idea that Scripture does something—that it reads us as much as we read it. I potentially like that we give Scripture some form of agency. I think this escapes some of the propositional truth exegesis that dominated evangelicalism decades ago and is still holding on in places today. But what I don’t like is that it too easily (and confusingly) assumes that we don’t read Scripture (it just reads us) and then blurs the importance of hermeneutics when reading the text. In other words, it can distract us from realizing how deeply we bring prejudices and perspectives into our reading. I wouldn’t want to undercut the importance of what we’ve learned from philosophical hermeneutics. But that’s for a whole other post.

Okay, here is what I really think is at stake in this question and how I would like to nuance the conversation. Either way you frame the question, Scripture is an agent. But Scripture is a collection of written texts, pieces of paper (or papyri or whatever) collected into a book that can sit on your desk or keep a door open. Of course, it is possible that words that make up ideas can be transformative, but it is you—the human agent, the subject—who reads them and brings them to life. In themselves these pages don’t live.

A kind of postmodern interpretation would be that only the community of faith lives, so Scripture only reads us as we read it together, drawing it into our subjective experiences. Part of me really likes that argument, but I think it makes the human agent too central. I’m worried that some have tried harder to make the Bible, the inanimate object, live, as though the Bible is one of Andy’s toys in Toy Story. I actually don’t think this is very helpful—therefore I do not think Scripture reads us.

Rather, I think the Word of God reads us. I hold that it is Jesus Christ who is living and moving in the world; it is Jesus who is encountering us, “reading” us, if you will. Jesus is a subject, an agent; Jesus is the living Word—living as the fullness of life, as the one who has passed through death. As the Johannine literature asserts and as most theological traditions affirm, Jesus Christ is the Word of God, and this Word is moving and active because this word is a living person.

So this means that our goal in youth ministry (and brace yourself, I’m about to say something to get you thinking) is not primarily to have kids read and know the Bible. We don’t care if they know about the inanimate object. Rather, what we want—and want deeply—is for kids to use the Bible to interpret the activity of the Word of God. What’s important is not that kids can memorize verses but rather that they embody the Bible enough to use it as a lens to seek God in the world.

The Bible is not the fourth person of the Trinity; the Bible is not divine. It doesn’t need to be error free to be true. The Bible is the authoritative lens (tool) to discern where and what the living God is doing. So the whole whining-about-kids-being-biblically-illiterate shtick is a red herring. Who cares if kids can pass some stupid Bible test? Who cares about biblical knowledge? What we want is for them to become interpreters (and of course, now, from this perspective, biblical knowledge is very important!) who devour the Bible—not to pass a test but to have the eyes to see the beauty and suffering of God’s action in the world.

The Bible is the authoritative gift God has given us to see the normative shape of God’s continued action in the world through Jesus by the Spirit. Chew on that for a while—and if you have more questions, wait for the third book in my theology and youth ministry series, which will be out first thing 2013. And for now, send all your angry emails to Mike King.


Chris Folmsbee


Below are nine considerations youth workers might employ to provide a more family-oriented approach to youth ministry.

1. See the bigger picture and start younger. A more family-oriented ministry cannot happen unless we work hard to start when our youth are children. This requires youth workers to have a broader perspective and definition of youth ministry and to be intentional about creating harmony with the church’s work with children.

2. Develop and commit to a theology of formation. A youth ministry that does not have a theology of formation often lacks the ability to see how others in the church might help them guide students into spiritual formation for the mission of God. I'm not referring to a programming structure as much as I am a pathway for developing teens and families toward becoming more like Jesus. Your programs can help this, but they can't do this. You need a theology of formation to guide your efforts.

3. Understand family systems. Every youth worker does not need a degree in sociology or psychology. However, every youth worker does need to seek out and develop a working knowledge of how healthy families function and then help other families embrace those traits.

4. Lead by listening. Listen well. How aware are you of the various needs your families have? There will be many, and they will be unique, and you may need to ask.

5. Resource families with tools and practices. One of the easiest yet most helpful things you can do is provide tools and practices for families to use to engage spiritual formation. For example, my family has a prayer cube that we use before each meal. It was given to me by my youth pastor years ago.

6. Schedule fewer events/services and encourage the families in your faith community to use the extra time for family gatherings. You may want to offer suggestions for families of ways to use their time. My experience has been that families want to do this but don't know what to do to engage all their children, who may be at various age levels.

7. Develop a team of parents who represent various families from various backgrounds. Let families speak into your ministry. This will help ensure that you are engaging families right where they are. This is hard to do for many reasons, one of which is age. If you are a younger, less experienced youth worker, you may want to delegate the leadership and coordination of this team to a more mature staff person or volunteer while you sit back and learn.

8. Create opportunities for the youth and families to experience the youth ministry together. This does not have to be elaborate or even often. However, your effort and willingness to do this will most likely be viewed by parents as helpful. Most will be grateful.

9. If you have a family yourself, lead your own family well, and others will learn from you. I know too many youth workers whose families come after the youth ministry. That sucks. Lead your family well and model family formation, and you will help others do the same.
























































































Watch for Barefoot’s new Parent Journey series, the first component of which is scheduled to release spring 2011!






Jim Hampton


There has been a move in youth ministry toward becoming more “family oriented,” which I celebrate. This move has been made because of the simple reality that parents are intended to be the primary spiritual caregivers for their children. Yet, as I talk with youth workers around the United States, I am still seeing a lot of youth ministries that, for whatever reason, tend to ignore parents or, at best, send them an occasional newsletter to keep them in the communication loop.

If we want to really make a difference in the lives of teenagers, we have to reorient our ministries to allow parents to become participants in youth ministray rather than just observers. Here are three suggestions for how youth ministry can become more family oriented.

1. Involve parents. I know it seems simplistic, but it’s just not happening. As Mark Senter points out his in his excellent book, When God Shows Up: A History of Protestant Youth Ministry in America, youth ministry approaches are often regionalized. And in my extensive travels, I’ve found that there does seem to be a lack of real family-oriented youth ministry in certain areas of the United States.

Part of the problem is that youth workers have developed the sense that, because they are the trained professionals, they are the ones who will make the biggest impacts in the lives of teenagers. That is a falsehood! Every study over the last 50 years shows that parents are still the number-one influences in their kids’ lives. Why would we then attempt to divorce our students from the very people who have the opportunity to most influence them for the gospel?

Find ways to involve parents in the youth ministry.

(While I am talking primarily about Christian parents, I think it is also important for us to reach out to non-Christian parents and find ways they can contribute to the youth ministry. This will expose them not only to what the ministry is doing for their children but also to Christian adults who can speak into their lives in profound ways.)

2. Resource parents. There is no tougher job in the world than parenting, especially when teenagers are in the household. We in youth ministry have been trained to understand developmental issues, spiritual formation of adolescents, family systems and counseling, and many other areas that assist us in our ministry to youth. But think about what types of training parents receive. Most have none, other than replicating the way their parents raised them.

The church should be a place that seeks to bring together parents of adolescents in order to resource, encourage, and challenge them in their sacred task of parenting. Consider how you could implement some of the following ideas:

• Bring in an expert on parent/teen communication for a weekend seminar.
• Create a 13-week Sunday school class for parents of teenagers focused on helping them understand the culture in which their teens are engaged.
• Develop a support group where parents can support, encourage, and pray for one another.
• Develop a parents’ council to help give guidance and support to the work of the youth ministry.

3. Celebrate Parents. The reality is that many parents feel they do a bad job of parenting and are regularly disappointed in themselves. If the church could find a way to celebrate their roles in the lives of their teenagers, this would not only affirm them but help them better understand the real impact they can have on their children.

Find ways to celebrate with parents the major milestones of their parenting lives. While these milestones are often celebrated with family, the church tends to be absent in these times. Parents earnestly desire to know that they are doing a good job and that others recognize it.

Here are some potential ideas to help with this:

• Many youth groups have a special ceremony to welcome new sixth or seventh graders into the youth group. In addition, consider having a special ceremony for the parents of those teenagers as a way of reminding them of how significant they will be during their kids’ teenage years.
• When teenagers make significant faith decisions, send letters to their parents, thanking them for their faithful lives and their desire to see their children grow in Christ.
• During confirmation (as part of both an opening and closing celebration), find ways to involve parents, celebrating their part in getting their children to this point.
• At a graduation banquet, allow the teenagers to give thanks to their parents for helping them navigate their teenage years.

If we can learn to really engage parents in sharing the faith formation of their teenagers, then we will really have succeeded in our jobs as youth workers.

Andy Root


It’s been a few decades now since youth ministry started adding “family” to its title. I’ve never done any real research on this, but my hunch is that this add-on came from the academy. The addition of family to make it youth and family ministry came nestled within the same unfolding of youth ministry programs in colleges and seminaries.

Now, this is good. I think youth ministry professors and researchers looked deeply at the research in the social sciences and saw clearly how important family is to adolescents, that family was the major element in so many outcomes—whether faith commitment, education performance, or avoidance of risky behaviors. And it was clear that most of youth ministry on the ground had not taken enough account of the family. In many ways, one could argue that youth ministry ignored the family and wanted very little to do with it.

Para-church youth ministries—the para-church ministries that set the terms for so much of twentieth-century youth ministry—almost always functioned outside of contact with the family. Adolescents seemed, at least socially, to be living in government institutions (like the high school) and the peer groups formed in these institutions. Being a teenager seemed to be a radical step away from the family, so these para-church ministries did the missional thing: they focused on where young people could be found—outside the home and in the school. And of course it was more than just this because the young people encountered through the para-church had no familial contact with the para-church; the para-church was solely a youth-driven entity. Besides needing a camp signature, parents and families were excluded from this religion-based peer fraternity.

When youth ministry migrated from the para-church to the local congregation, the adolescent-centered, family-excluded perspective migrated with it. Though the congregation was a family-centric reality (besides needing a few volunteers), youth ministry was practiced inside the congregation beyond the family.

So adding family to youth ministry has been a good move. It acknowledges something both ecclesial (that the church is made up of families and is intergenerational) and something anthropological (that young people as full persons are bound within families, forming identity and meaning from within the family).

But here’s the rub. And every one of you who works with families knows this: No matter how much you believe it is important to minister to families, it often feels impossible. One of the reasons the early para-church folks steered clear of the family was because of their read of the culture, and even today (and maybe more so), there are deep cultural changes that make it very, very difficult to work with families. You could actually make an argument that we are living in a post-family era.

Of course, we still have “family,” but families are changing and transitional; from step-families to blended families to kids bouncing from one to another, it’s hard to know what family means to people and to have any family ministry without stepping on a mine somewhere. Family has become more multivalent and porous, making it inappropriate to assume what is and what is not a family. So turning our attention to families is much more difficult than adding family to our job titles.

But the picture I’ve just painted with my historical brush is mostly in youth ministry from the mid-twentieth century on. And that’s usually where we start when we think about the need to get the family back in focus in our congregations. We often think that if we could just get back to the golden era of the 1950s, all would be good. But this is a misconception; I don’t think the church had any better idea of how to do ministry with families in this black-white, sitcom era of high Americana. It seems to me that the church has been treading water on how to do ministry with families not just since the 1950s but since the Victorian age of the early nineteenth century. So to make you depressed, it’s not that the church has been out of touch in doing ministry for the last 60 years but for the last 200.

Why? In the Victorian age of the nineteenth century, the family became what historians call a separate sphere. In other words, for the first time, most people left home daily to go to work, returning from the competitive workforce to find solace in the family. Women were no longer central to the work of the family as an economic reality (as Abigail Adams was in colonial America) but were now in charge of making this private sphere comfortable and safe for working husbands and vulnerable children. So the family became private and separate from the rest of life (you can read more about this historical change in my new book, The Children of Divorce, chapter one).

Very practically, what occurred is that the church was now no longer given voice inside the family—it was private, after all. For most of western history the church spoke directly into the family, especially in the medieval age. The church was the notary (legal representative) of family unions, judging who could marry and merge wealth and land. The church ruled (through marriage as a sacrament) who could be married and who couldn’t and how those marriages should function. Of course, this left open the possibility for a great deal of abuse. But it did mean that the church was involved in the family.

However, since the Victorian age, the pastor needs to be careful not to cross boundaries and will be told—when she/he speaks too much about parenting—to mind her/his own business. Because now the family is no longer the church’s business, it is no longer public—though it had been for centuries.

And this is what makes adding the family to youth ministry much easier said than done. It’s difficult for us to know how to do family ministry when, for most people, what happens in their families is their own business, and nobody (particularly you young, gel-haired youth workers) has a place to tell me what my kid needs and how I should parent her.

I’m tempted to stop here and let the depression just spill over you—for after all, this is a really difficult situation we find ourselves in; family ministry is very hard. But maybe that’s where we should start—by communicating to parents that we know what they wrestle with every day; that parenting their children is really hard; that confusion and fear are all around them. And with the family being private, parents can often feel stuck and fearful about how to express the difficulty and confusion parenting can bring.

So maybe the way we break through the tall walls of the private sphere of the family is not by providing advice and counsel but forums for parents of young and old children to express their fear and confusion. Maybe the work of the church in our time is not to have the moral high ground to “fix” family problems but to provide spaces for parents to connect with each other and share their stories and, through their stories, open up themselves and their families to each other.

Good luck, because I think family ministry is darn tough!


What are the three best books you have read on evangelism and why?

Chris Folmsbee


Three books come to mind in a hurry. (1) Evangelism after Christendom: The Theology and Practice of Christian Witness, by Bryan Stone;
(2) The Celtic Way of Evangelism: How Christianity Can Reach the West…Again, by George Hunter III; and
(3) More Ready Than You Realize: Evangelism as Dance in the Postmodern Matrix, by Brian McLaren.

Each of these books has inspired, challenged, and equipped me. When I read a book, that’s what I want to happen to me. I want to be stirred within and see new, imaginative possibilities; I want to be pushed and stretched in my current modes of thought and outfitted with realistic ideas and practices that I can contextualize within my own community. Each of these books has done that for me.

Regarding Evangelism after Christendom: The Theology and Practice of Christian Witness, I feel that this book is first theological then methodological, which I love. I am all for methods but love when they are rooted in rich theological meaning. The book isn’t particularly practical (it wasn’t meant to be), but it does lay a comprehensible biblical foundation for evangelism and puts forth a stout framework for everyday practice around common themes such as hospitality, presence, justice, peace, reconciliation, etc. I also found this book to be thrilling on one hand and crazy scary on the other. Thrilling in the sense that I am able to see what could be, should the church live out the intended ways of God. I found the book to be scary in the sense that I realized how much of my own life has to change in order to be a faithful witness.

The Celtic Way of Evangelism is one of my all-time favorite books on evangelism simply because of its candor and simplicity. It certainly isn’t a simplistic book, but it does confront the church’s need for a new kind of evangelism head on in a no-nonsense way that elicits immediate action. You can’t read this book, agree with even some of it, and not change your life and practices accordingly.

I haven’t read this book for some time, but I remember two key elements of new thinking for me. The first element is a comparison between the Roman way of evangelism and the Celtic way. In short, the Roman way is based on a presentation followed by a call for a decision, and then community with the people one is evangelizing comes later. The Celtic model begins with community, continues with conversation, and then leads to an invitation to commit to the Christian faith. I found this model comparison relevant to the church and culture some time ago when I read it. I still find this model relevant to the way in which the church and culture co-exist and converse, toward intermingling, no doubt. The second element I found helpful is the concept of “soul friend” (anamchara) in the Celtic way of community formation. A soul friend is a peer who aids you in your spiritual formation. We need soul friends! Spiritual formation happens in community.

Finally, More Ready Than You Realize helped me see past some of my own junk as it related to my view of evangelism. As with The Celtic Way of Evangelism, it has been a while since I have read it, I remember being moved by two things in particular. First, the book helps event-based thinkers move away from the idea that salvation is a moment rather than a process. I found this book helpful to give to volunteers in my ministry for this reason. Second, the book follows the narrative of a person, and out of the relationship the author has with this person, the ideas of evangelism are brought about. I much prefer engaging concepts about evangelism within the context of a narrative, rather than mere opinions and conjecture.

This book is great for helping people come along in their view of personal and corporate witness; moving them away from static—and often stagnant—practice of faith sharing and toward a dynamic and relevant practice driven by authentic community. I also like the author’s metaphor of evangelism as dance, as opposed to a wrestling match that we are trying to win.


Helpful Resources for Teens:
Being Real: Sharing Your Faith without Losing Your Friends
Mike Kipp and Kenny Wade

Mike King


I have probably spent more time contemplating this question than any other Slant33 post I have written. I must confess a couple of things before I attempt a response. The first two decades of ministry for me were focused primarily on youth evangelism. I taught evangelism. I did evangelism. I was called a “youth evangelist.” Man, do I have stories! The last couple years of those first two decades were spent struggling with the concept that I had been taught and had embraced concerning how evangelism was to be done.

That 20-year period was followed by a decade of shifting my focus to discipleship and a process of de-emphasizing evangelism, especially the kind I had engaged in within my youth ministry praxis. This timeline now brings me to around three years ago, when my passion for evangelism returned. I believe a combination of factors (Holy Spirit, conversation partners, theology, church, experiences, Scripture) fueled my passion, imagination, and calling to begin reengaging in evangelism again, though from a much broader theological perspective and different methodology.

As I reflect on my early practice of evangelism, I remember how uncomfortable it was to find a way to make sure people knew they were sinners headed for hell. I whipped myself with the reminder that I was not to be ashamed of the gospel. In spite of the self-motivation and self-condemnation for lacking the faith and courage to boldly let people know they were presently doomed, the attempts to remove my discomfort never worked. It just seemed wrong.

I’ve discovered gradually over the last three years that the problem was my insistence to do what many evangelicals do—start the story of humanity in Genesis 3 instead of Genesis 1. We start with the fall instead of the creation of human beings imago Dei by a loving Creator. I have found it not only easier but also more human and natural to engage in unforced conversation that, most of the time, unfolds into a delightful opportunity to bear witness to every human being’s connection to the imago Dei.

I have found it a joy to be a blessing to people and make the connection to unique ways they are cooperating with God regardless, of whether they know it. It is also amazing how often the reality of people’s brokenness comes up naturally—except it’s not me but the non-believer bringing it up. I have amazing stories of sharing the good news of Jesus Christ with people who actually respond as if the gospel is actually good news.

Well that is the introduction for my answer. I wanted to give you my context so it might make sense to you when I answer this question by saying, I don’t know. I don’t currently have an answer to the question concerning “the three best books” on this subject. But I will make a few suggestions that you can consider along with me.

My first suggestion is The Celtic Way of Evangelism: How Christianity Can Reach The West…Again, by George Hunter (Abingdon). Dr. Hunter is the dean of world mission and evangelism at Asbury Theological Seminary. I have traveled to Ireland and Scotland extensively and have explored the monastic outposts of the Celtic evangelists who converted Ireland, Scotland, England, and Wales. I am intrigued by the story of these ancient evangelists who converted a very pagan culture to Christianity. This is fascinating history. To study this more, I would also recommend author and historian Thomas Cahill, who wrote the bestselling book How the Irish Saved Civilization. In addition to evangelizing a whole culture, they also kept western culture alive by preserving classic western literature.

A couple of books that are important theological considerations for the issue of evangelism are Transforming Mission: Paradigm Shifts in Theology of Mission, by David Bosch and The Gospel in a Pluralist Society, by Lesslie Newbigin.

Another recommendation is Ancient-Future Evangelism: Making Your Church a Faith-Forming Community, by Robert Webber. Additionally, I suggest Webber’s fourth title in the Ancient-Future series, called The Divine Embrace: Recovering the Passionate Spiritual Life, because I think one of the most important issues involved in recovering a compelling environment for evangelism is for Christians to live passionate Christian lives, following Jesus Christ with fervent devotion and deep spiritual intimacy with God.

Dave Rahn


My three favorite books on evangelism are those that have helped me clearly articulate paradigm shifts that affected me personally and through which I have tried to lead others. Others may have written about these subjects better; but these books were seminal perspective changers for me.

As a young man who was not really engaged with the church growing up, my coming to put my faith in Christ was marked by a moment in time. Not surprisingly, my earliest understanding of evangelism was to seek conversion decisions from others. Robert Coleman’s The Master Plan of Evangelism stunned me by introducing me to overwhelming evidence that embedded Jesus’ evangelism efforts in the center of his disciple-making strategies. Since reading that book in college, I have continued to resist forms of decisionalism that reduce evangelism’s goal to securing a prayer commitment from someone. These approaches threaten disciple making as a process that brings about fruit of character transformation and reproduction.

This is not to say that decisions for Christ are not intricately connected to the formation of a disciple. It is, rather, to understand evangelism as targeting the process that leads one to initially decide to become a follower of Jesus Christ—the first in a lifetime of decisions that must be navigated well if we are to live as those who bring honor to God.

The burden of carrying the weight of responsibility for evangelism’s fruit troubled me considerably in the early part of my career with Youth for Christ. That’s when I read J.I. Packer’s Evangelism and the Sovereignty of God. As someone who tilted toward the Arminian side of free-will discussions, I could never understand why a Calvinist would even participate in the evangelism enterprise. This book introduced me to a picture of a high and holy God who draws his people into a mission that is for his glory. I came to understand evangelism as an important aspect of living all of my life in obedience to the Father. And the most important practical benefit was that I began to grasp the idea that God is the only one who can bring about the true fruit of a transformed life. There is incredible rest in this reality, without reducing the urgency of my need to be faithful all the time to a God who loves me deeply.

The third book is Joe Aldrich’s Lifestyle Evangelism. It came at a time when I struggled with tools that would help me coach the many volunteers in our ministry, most of whom were not inclined by gifts or disposition to practice proclamational or confrontational evangelism. Not only does Aldrich make the biblical case for why each of us is to be actively involved in evangelism, he instructs us how we can do so by putting the rightful priority on living as salt and light. Even more intriguing is the concept of how churches often breed “professional weaker brothers” who effectively squelch the freedoms of those who otherwise could move into relationship with non-churched people. It’s safe to say that the seeds of this book found their way into the YFC 3Story philosophy and curriculum we use today.

Honorable mention for me is the book Persuasion, by Em Griffin. His application of communication research to the task of evangelism profoundly affected me and probably helped form the passion for one of my own books. For many years as an academic I asserted that I would not write a book unless I could make an original contribution. Evangelism Remixed (which I co-authored with Terry Linhart) is the result of researching the factors that are present when adults raise up students who influence others for Christ. I consider this book to be an important extension of what I learned from Coleman, Packer, and Aldrich, with Em Griffin lemon-twisted on the side.


What are the necessary aspects of creating environments where God can be experienced?

Sarah Arthur


I find this to be an intriguing question. It’s rather like asking, “What are the necessary aspects of creating environments where wind can be experienced?”

On the one hand, we can’t force the wind to show up. Growing up sailing on the Great Lakes, I learned the truth of Jesus’ statement, “The wind blows wherever it pleases” (John 3:8). Our boat could be cruising along for hours at six knots in a steady breeze, and then suddenly the wind would die—bam. And we’d be stuck out there, bobbing around, trying to start the motor.

On the other hand, there are certain places and times when the wind has been known to show up. On the Little Traverse Bay in Lake Michigan, for instance, sailors on a sunny summer day usually can count on a phenomenon known as the afternoon thermal. As the sun climbs higher in the sky, it warms up the air over the coastland. But the air over Lake Michigan stays cool because of the chilly waters. So as the warm overland air begins to expand and rise, it creates a draft that pulls the cooler air inland, generating a steady breeze all afternoon. Then as the sun begins to set, the overland air cools off again and stops rising, which no longer creates a draft—and experienced sailors know to make their way home because the wind will die [1].

Now, obviously, this isn’t always the case. Some afternoons all you get is a flat calm. A sailor could stand on the dock for hours hollering, “Blow, wind! Blow!” and nothing would happen. Or he could hook up an industrial fan, point it at the mainsail, and still not get very far. Other days he might watch the barometer fall and know that a dangerous storm is on its way. Too much wind from the east, and he could end up in Wisconsin. But while he can’t manufacture or create the right environment for the right amount of wind coming from the right direction at the right time, he himself can be present and ready to sail at the times and places such a wind has been known to show up.

Which brings me back to the original question: What are the necessary aspects of creating environments where God can be experienced? Well, like the wind, the Holy Spirit is going to do whatever the Holy Spirit pleases. I can create the most amazing mission trip, complete with powerful devotions, mind-blowing intercultural encounters, and profound group bonding, but unless the Holy Spirit is moving in our midst, not much lasting formation will happen. Or I could fail to plan adequately for the youth retreat at my house next weekend, and the Holy Spirit might move in mighty ways in spite of me.

Even so, over the centuries Christians have identified certain circumstances, events, and experiences in which God has been known to show up. Worship, for instance. The sacraments, in particular. Prayer, serving the poor, Bible study. And many other spiritual practices, such as confession, simplicity, tithing, Sabbath-keeping, and fasting. (Notice how sub-woofers are not on the list.) Does God show up every time? Perhaps not in ways we can grasp. Perhaps we feel like we’re left standing on the dock, staring at calm waters, wondering if we somehow misunderstood the forecast.

Or maybe, like Elijah on the mountaintop, we find the flat calm to be just where God meets us.


[1] For visual learners: http://www.prh.noaa.gov/hnl/kids/seabreeze.gif






Chris Folmsbee


The environment is where students engage the narrative and mission of God at deeper levels. Healthy and effective environments that develop story-formed students are keenly aware of three transformative elements: time, space, and matter.

When I talk about time, I’m not referring to the starting and ending times of your program. It isn’t just about minutes and hours but a pacing that cultivates a peace-filled, calm, and reflective atmosphere. What I mean is that whatever your program (environment) is, it should have a tempo that doesn’t work to impose learning but instead invites learning.

An environment that’s aware of time composes a sense of calm, stillness, and harmony that infuses all that it does. The environment isn’t in a hurry to make story-formed students. Rather, it remembers that transformational youth ministry is about a process, not a product. An environment that is aware of time also leaves room for students to observe and reflect on what’s happening, what they’re learning, and how they may practice it.

Space isn’t a buffer zone but a sacred, aesthetically intriguing, and astonishing physical or mental “room” in which to contemplate and consider the wonder, beauty, and creativity of God’s narrative and mission. Environments of space cultivate the opportunity for students to encounter God in meaningful ways. These spaces are sacred.

The space you cultivate doesn’t have to be about method as much as it is about mission. Maybe this involves a dimly lit room with a wonderful ambiance, lighted candles, and beautiful art and icons. Or maybe space involves freedom from those things that distract our minds and hold us captive. At times I’ve felt free in the strangest places: my car, my office, my living room, a movie theater, a coffee house, etc.

Matter isn’t the theme but the cooperating substance of an environment. Matter is the content that evokes the imagination, imparts for a recreated life, and inspires toward transformation. Matter is critical. There must be some material that transforms the lives of our students. There must be a basis for the program. It might be purely relational; it might be about leadership development; it might be about formation or any combination of the many issues we deal with in youth ministry. Whatever the reason for gathering, there must be content that helps our students imagine what a life with God could look like.

The matter involved in our environments must be matter that motivates and stirs within our students a passion for the narrative and mission of God. Typically, matter that accomplishes these purposes is experiential in nature and seeks to help students learn, not help teachers look or feel good. It is comprised of times of reflection, permission to ask questions, continuous dialogue, and situations in which to attempt to practice what’s being learned.

Creating healthy and imaginative environments of time, space, and matter is vital to your youth ministry. Without these, programming will be insufficient and will quickly become obsolete.

This idea of creating environments where God can be experienced and these elements of time, space, and matter are fleshed out in more detail in my book Story, Signs, and Sacred Rhythms (Zondervan, 2010).

Andy Root


This is a really interesting question. I want to start by answering in a controversial way. So here we go. Ready? We can’t. We can’t create such environments. God can’t be found by the effort of human beings; God can only be experienced through God’s own action, through God’s own choice to make Godself known.

To think that we can create or build some landing pads that will guarantee God’s arrival is idolatry; it’s to cage the freedom and otherness of God. To say it crassly, too often it feels like we use our programs as treats to lead God (and young people) to the ministries we’ve built, like I lead my dogs to the basement.

God moves where and when God chooses to move. There is nothing we can do about this. God shows up when God shows up. And sometimes, maybe often, God shows up in places we wouldn’t have expected (“The Lord is in this place, and I did not know it”). How often in our ministries has God arrived in times and places that you never could have planned? God is not dependent on us to act—sure, we’re invited into God’s action, asked to be faithful to God’s people as we yearn for God to move, but no silver bullet in ministry can guarantee it. There is no money-back guarantee that any environment we construct will bring the presence of God.

When we ignore this reality, we can easily fall into assuming that it’s our efforts or talents that bring God’s presence. Then we assume that we can concoct a youth group recipe that will promise the arrival of God. But so often this makes God not an agent who acts and moves in and through our ministries but an object we can’t quite control but can—with the right actions on our part—predict like the weather.

This position, that somehow we can create such environments, makes us quick-fix, new, catchy-idea addicts. We can be fooled into thinking it’s our job to bring God’s presence, and therefore, we have the great burden of always looking for the next big thing, next catchy idea that can do this for us. We want a kit that comes with directions for creating environments where God is experienced. This shifts all the focus onto our actions instead of God’s. But the God of Israel is a God who moves, who chooses to act in a personal way, to be called Father, to address and be addressed by God’s people. We can trust that God will act with and for us, but we can’t force this encounter; we can’t create artificial environments where this can happen.

And I think that’s much of our problem in youth ministry. When we get so caught up in creating this environment, when we work so hard at it through our own effort, it becomes clear to young people that it is artificial. So they either come to youth group and experience an artificial God in our artificial environment and then leave it behind to reenter their lives; or they simply avoid us, aware that our youth group environment is a fake soundstage pretending to be a place to experience God.

And so we fall into the trap of giving our attention (and money) over to those who think they have some secret recipe, instead of seeking dialogue partners and ideas that will help us not bring God’s action but have the eyes to see it.

To me, this is why being able to think theologically in youth ministry is more important than being able to think programmatically. The programmatic element is important, don’t get me wrong, but just because you have great programs that create great environments doesn’t mean that God will “show up.”

A theologically minded youth worker seeks the activity of God, seeking to create programs where God is moving, not the other way around. The first step is not to create something but to see something, to see God moving and seek to participate. It is then that we build our environment or our programs. When we see that the Lord is in this place and we did not know it, we build our memorial, we build a structure, a program that witnesses to the action of God. So to create an environment of experiencing God is to continue to invite young people to look, to strain their eyes to see where and how God is moving not in youth group environment but in the world, in their world.

In the Old Testament, in places like Bethel, when God appears, it is a shock. Environments are created not to bring God but after God has shown up. After experiencing God, then we build our memorials.

So maybe the point isn’t to create such environments to experience God but to invite young people to be interpreters, making the youth group the place of shared interpretation, the place where we articulate where and how we have experienced the action of God in our lives. When we create the environment, we ask young people to be passive consumers of what we’ve created. But when we invite them to be interpreters, to go into the world and seek God, then both God and young people are the active agents.

So to answer the question directly: How do we create environment where God can be experienced? By inviting young people to interpret where God is moving in the world, in the church, and in their lives, we experience God by together seeking for God. We the youth workers create this environment by not making the environment our sole concern but by making God’s action our focus.



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