Somehow, through the years of church development, discipleship was diluted. It became a system of education that rested its impact on one idea that has proven false. That thought is simply: Right thinking leads to right behavior. If knowing the right things to do and the reasons behind those behaviors were enough, then wouldn’t ministry be so much easier? Discipleship isn’t only about education. It has to go beyond giving the facts of the faith and get involved in the person. The hard questions that linger behind our everyday thoughts are where discipleship lives.

Legalism is another trap for discipleship. As much as understanding can’t be the end, neither can behavior. If that were true, the world would be a much better place, but legalism isn’t the fix the church thought it was. Instead of making moral people, it made judgmental people. It gave them a false sense of what the gospel means. Instead of holding a ruler over everyone’s head, discipleship wants to see hearts moved toward God. Like Merton’s prayer, it believes that the desire to please God does, in fact, please him. So instead of exacting a system of right doing, discipleship focuses on right being.

Unlike contemporary discipleship, Jesus didn’t use books (education), didn’t rest on behavioralism (legalism), and didn’t force the world’s way of life on his disciples. Instead, he helped them know themselves and pointed to what God was doing around them.

In Matthew 16, Jesus has an exchange with Simon that is well known. In that encounter, Jesus asks his disciples who people say he is and who they think he is. Simon, ever eager, jumps in and calls Jesus the Messiah. Jesus not only recognizes Simon for this, but he calls out the change by renaming him Peter. Jesus points to something deep within Peter and marks that unique characteristic in him. Discipleship should do this as well. It needs to see specific bits of people’s personalities and call them out. In my experience, this most often happens when relationships are developed enough for disciples to feel safe. When they do, they reveal more about themselves and their response to God.

Often the most painful moments of brokenness are where God shows who we are. It isn’t wasted on me that, right after Peter receives a new name, he is called Satan by Jesus. Peter must have felt schizophrenic. But this exchange points to a key element of Peter’s faith. He is impetuous. When that ready, fire, aim mentality trusts God, he sees for himself how close to Jesus he is. On the other hand, when he doesn’t trust and actually tries to force his own way, it proves how apart from God he is.

Another example I look to for discipleship is Jesus’s response to the religious leaders in John 5. After being attacked for healing on the Sabbath, Jesus explains something about the way he lives life. He lives life watching for God’s work and then joins in. Discipleship can learn a lot from this explanation. If instead of educating and measuring, it could point to God’s work; then it would be much closer to the way Jesus leads his disciples.

Jesus has an amazing track record with his way of discipleship. By investing himself in twelve men, he changed the church for thousands of years. Where would his death and resurrection have led, apart from his disciples carrying that message afterward? When we as youth workers trust other methods—education, behavior modification, distraction, entertainment, etc.—what we really show is our lack of faith in Jesus’s way. My hope for the future and the hopeful revolution of youth ministry (and the church) is that spiritual leaders will see Jesus’s example and follow it more closely. If that happens, the future is assured.

Experience is also a necessary part of discipleship. Jesus taught his disciples as they were, out in the villages, putting them right in the middle of God happenings. Often he held off teaching them until after an experience–a miracle or sending them out to do ministry. Sometimes he just allowed these experiences to be the teacher. Discipleship seems to be an ongoing experience; an encounter with and surrendering to the living God.

However, community seems to be the glue that holds discipleship and formation together. If, in the simplest sense, discipleship is the lifelong process of becoming like Jesus, then the business of the church is to create environments to foster that–to be a community of discipleship.

It seems that modern church culture has stripped away much of the relational dynamic of discipleship and formation. Discipleship in many churches is relegated to a class you attend to learn and adhere to beliefs and doctrine. In many churches, discipleship becomes a curriculum where growth is marked by knowledge. After all the blanks in the discipleship workbook are filled in, the expectation is that this knowledge will be integrated into the thoughts and actions of each participant.

What this approach lacks is the idea that discipleship is a journey and not a destination. It is a continual process of becoming and being made new. It is about much more than the acquisition of knowledge; it is about transformation. Some of what made Jesus’s discipleship so potent is that it was not just expressed in a sterile classroom. It went well beyond philosophical colloquy and systematized steps for living. Jesus’s discipling was an impartation of himself, lived out in three dimensions. It was a daily relational-living experience of being with his disciples. The disciples saw Jesus, filled with compassion, reaching out to a hurting and confused world. Jesus processed life and real needs with them, awakening them toward a kingdom understanding.

When discipleship becomes just about knowing doctrine and Scripture, it becomes disconnected from its relational essence. It becomes disembodied, disrupting the fabric of who we are as Christ’s body, called to help form one another in his likeness. As the Spirit of God gives us life, we are to impart that life to one another. Christian communities hold the potential to become beautiful, robust pictures of the revelation of Christ–far more than just one individual can reflect. It is God’s remarkable intention to express Godself through community.

The very nature of Christianity is one of community. A branch connected to the vine; a body with many parts; our growth and health are inextricably connected to one another. We cannot become disciples of Christ without the continual nurture, challenge, and care of a community. It is difficult for us to sense that we are deeply known by God if we are not deeply known by others. Part of becoming a disciple is to be seen and heard by others. A discipling community helps uphold and redirect us when we lose our way.

Part of the Jewish faith tradition is to embrace a communal understanding of formation. For centuries, Jews have wrestled with their faith together. Dialogue about the Scriptures and how they should be lived out continues to be a central part of being shaped spiritually as a Jew. In the Hebrew culture, diversity of thought is vital to growth and enlightenment. There is a palpable anticipation that God is always doing something new and that the reflections found in the thoughts and lives of our community reveal God to us in profound ways.

To be formed requires pliability, an openness and vulnerability with God and others. As we open ourselves up in community of faith, it releases the possibility for God to form and remake us together.

There was a good post about formation and community on this very blog in 2010: Slant33.com/FormationCommunity

In this spirit, discipleship is about strategically investing a lot of resources into those who truly want to grow. As unpopular as this statement may be, it is reflective of the ministry of Jesus as he sought to found a movement through the rabbinic style of the day, where disciples were willing to follow him. We pray that God will be with each person as they move forward in life in becoming apprentices. Let them have a teachable spirit and the courage to make the necessary changes in their lives to move forward in their purpose. May each person who takes this message to heart be transformed by God and take the necessary steps in order to be mentors to those who will follow in their footsteps.

To the dismay of many, ministries often do not outline their outcomes very clearly. Mainly, what is expected of individuals largely falls into what can be considered a voluntary fire department. That is to say, there is a heavy emphasis on attending church services or training events, yet to go out and fight fires or become active, there is a lot of wiggle room. The bar is extremely low, while follow up on what is done as a result of the investment put into each individual is severely lacking.

Accountability in a relationship is at the heart of an apprenticeship, which leads to spiritual formation. Many institutions are more than willing to make rules and expect others to simply fall in line. Then what can result next is the equivalent of telling a child to look up the answer in a dictionary or an encyclopedia, where no tangible help or mentoring is provided when they are in need of guidance and direction. Therefore, the culture of any organization that does not make it a priority to help develop the capacity of people in their community is severely missing the point of what was at the heart of Jesus’s ministry. Without the structure that allows for deep relationships to develop, rites of passage such as baptisms become surface-level commitments because new disciples are not truly embraced in to the community of support.

In the well-quoted passage often referred to as the Great Commission in Matthew 28, the verses preceding it are often either skipped or read quickly through. Matthew 28:16-20:

Then the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain where Jesus had told them to go. When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted. Then Jesus came to them and said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

In this passage it is clear that even though the disciples have walked with Jesus for three years and intimately know him, in addition to seeing him raised from the dead right before them, some still doubt. It is important to realize that there are people in our community of disciples who are in need of a safe place where they can work through their doubts.

Through it all, discipleship is a two-way street. Leaders need to be consistent and model what it takes to be successful. Disciples need to have a teachable spirit and take what they are learning and put it into practice. In my experience, there can be no denying that what people put into this type of intensive learning relationship is what they will eventually get out of it. Apprenticeship programs are relevant models for ministry and a necessary tool to address standards. Values are the heart of the issue. With that said, discipleship in Authentic LA primarily takes place during the regular times of discussion that are provided along with mentors regularly available to help disciples move forward in their walk with God.

Youth workers have a long history of falling victim to this problem. The situation is complicated by the dual role of senior pastors. They aren’t just our bosses but our spiritual leaders as well. When we feel let down by them, it’s not just about our own work. It’s also about spiritual direction.

Personally, I knew that if I wanted to continue working in churches, I was going to have to learn to deal with disagreement. Potential for disagreement is constant, and how I deal with it gauges my own spiritual and emotional health (and probably my ministry too). After years of really messing up this relationship, I have come to several conclusions that actually work when I don’t see eye to eye with my pastor.

Communicate. My gut instinct when I don’t like a differing idea from a pastor is to clam up and avoid talking about it. The result is always bitterness and separation. During that separation I build arguments for my position, have confrontations in my head with that person, play out scenarios, and, at the worst of times, go to others for support.

Instead of playing all these head games, the best thing I can do is have a conversation with the person I disagree with. I am always surprised by how much better a situation becomes when it can be talked through. Of course, I talk myself out of these interactions with self-justifications like, He won’t listen or, This won’t make any difference, but every time I actually initiate one of these interactions, I’m proven wrong. The other involved person almost always listens and accepts my perspective. Most of the time, this is the end of my problem.

Be fair. Senior pastors have to account for all of their people. When I come to him with a concern over the worship set and how teens are in danger of falling asleep, he hears me. He’s also thinking about how the sweet octogenarian lady told him that old hymn was the best thing she’d heard all week. If I really want to work through differences of opinion, I have to be willing to accept alternate perspectives.

As soon as words form in my mouth, I can see if I’m willing to see things from another viewpoint. When I accuse or exaggerate or use persuasive words to make my point, I’m not accepting another way of looking at things. Phrases like, “You don’t care about the teens because…” only show how limited my ability to accept is. So I need to be fair and acknowledge the pastor’s concerns as well. The point is, just because I am heard doesn’t mean my solution is the best or will be acted on.

Mind my own business. Occasionally, even after communicating in a fair way, I still disagree with my leaders. A great friend once listened to me rant for twenty minutes about one of these disputes. After hearing my problem, he asked me how I felt after talking to the pastor about it. I felt demoralized and devalued. It seemed like the pastor didn’t like me or think I was doing a good job. He then asked me if I thought I was doing the right thing in my job. Was I doing what I should be doing? “Well, yes!” I replied with a little concern about where he was going. He then told me that it was none of my business what the pastor thought of me. I couldn’t know for certain, and I shouldn’t be doing anything just for his approval anyway. This one sentence freed me from the burden of getting my self-esteem needs met by my pastor.

Disagreements are a big deal in the church, especially for those who work with teens. One of the biggest detriments to youth ministry is the problem of settling disagreements. I blame most of the transitions I hear about in youth ministry on this one problem, and while it isn’t all the youth worker’s fault, there is so much that can be done to help. As hard as it is, we need to work on these problems if we are going to continue to work in the institutions that support our callings.

While so many people I know and have been peers with in student ministry avoid conflict with all the strength they can muster, I’ve come to realize that conflict means both parties care. They believe in what they are doing and why they are doing it, and they want to see something through. Often when conflict arises in a church staff, the trend has been for the youth worker to ship off, thinking it will be better on the other side. But if that relationship with the senior pastor is to ever truly blossom and grow, how both sides handle the conflict will make a tremendous impact on the staff of the church and help set the trajectory for how conflict can be handled among other church members as well.

When the current senior pastor at my church arrived after I had been there nearly a year and a half without one, I was a young, new seminary student voraciously reading all kinds of new and emerging theologies and philosophies. We had just gone through the experience of losing a student after a horrible bout with cancer, and my predecessor as student pastor (and one of my closest friends) passed away in a tragic car accident just weeks before the arrival of our new senior pastor. Add to that, I was starting to ramp up toward change after being there nearly two years, right when the new pastor would come to provide stability. Worse yet, I had grown up in the church plant, with my dad being the founding pastor, and I can’t imagine what kind of situation this must have felt like for our new-to-the-area senior pastor.

Thankfully, I had a few mentors who provided some great insight into how to navigate that transition, which actually created the attitudes I try to embody when disagreement arises. They are simple but, when lived well, can perpetuate a living in the way of Jesus that helps set the pace for the whole church.

First and foremost, assume the best of your senior pastor. Don’t assume they are trying to personally attack you, frustrate you, or go against what you think or believe.

Second, if you can afford the time, let the situation settle for at least a day. Let your emotions run their course, and don’t be reactive. Try to listen to God, and even spend some time in silence to quiet your heart and spirit.

After slowing down and calming down if necessary, ask to meet with your senior pastor privately. Whatever you do, do not try to use a situation of disagreement to embarrass or intimidate your senior pastor in front of others. Often they are not even aware of the disagreement, and it is unfair to treat someone who is a leader in your life, who has been called by your church and God to fulfill this role, and is your boss, in this manner.

Be generous, and try to ask questions that lead to discussion rather than beginning with an accusation. Remember it is not about being right but about working together to fulfill the mission of God.

Ultimately, it is important to be open and honest with your senior pastor while being intentional to follow his or her lead, regardless of how things work out. How you handle this situation can affect your current relationship as well as how disagreements are handled in the future.

Really, just treat your senior pastor as you would like to be treated.

One contributing factor is that they are great youth workers and not so great staff members.

A key to my own longevity has been my willingness to think like a senior pastor. In truth, this insight came because, for 18 months, I was the solo pastor at a small church. (Everyone else quit!) I learned a lot about the role of the senior pastor when we didn’t have one, and I had to step in as the senior staff member. In attending meetings with the search committee, deacons, and trustees, I was forced to think globally about the impact of my individual actions on the organization.

When there were several staff people, no one seemed to care that I came in late some mornings because I was out late the night before or spent the morning at the high school. The unintended consequence of being the solo pastor and altering my work hours was that the rest of the church staff was confused about when they should start working. After all, if I wasn’t going to come to the office until noon on Thursday, did my secretary really need to be there alone?

When we finally hired some people and our staff (and church) began to grow again, I maintained a wider view of my impact on the entire church.

Another insight I gained during that period of time was a fuller understanding, particularly in small-to-medium-sized churches, that my role was to support and encourage the senior leader. That person is human too. They are going home to families, they have lives, and they want their jobs to be as successful as you do. That didn’t mean I had to be a yes man. But that did mean I had to disagree behind closed doors, allowing for consensus and then presenting a united front. Even when I sternly disagreed, I had to learn there was a right and wrong time and place to disagree, and there was a time to visibly support the mission of the senior leader.

It also meant that I had to wear my associate pastor hat often and do things far outside the scope of youth ministry (managing staff, overseeing other departments, and leading other non-youth-ministry projects).

I remember one key time. The staff had come to the conclusion that we needed to kill some programs in order for the church to invest in others. Quite simply, this 150-year-old congregation had way more programs than it could sustain. But in deciding which ministries to kill or maim, there was substantial disagreement (including throttling the growth of our student ministry). But when the day came and we presented these changes to the congregation, I stood next to and defended the decisions. More important than during the meeting, when the people of the church came to me looking for a voice of dissent, I stood by our decisions and leaned into my role as his supporter.

Why? Did I agree with everything? Absolutely not! But I supported these decisions because I believed in the long-term vision of the ministry of the church. And even though it’d kill me as a youth worker to see some of my own vision die, it was more important that the church survive than for me to get my way.

I think that’s the difference between a youth worker who stays for a season and one who stays for a career. In the long run, you have to see how youth ministry fits in and ultimately complements the whole organization in order for it to truly thrive.

As a teenager, I didn’t know my mother without knowing her suffering. As a result, things like the common cold or flu were no longer acceptable reasons to complain in my mind. It was almost as if I couldn’t be sick enough to justify staying home from school, church, or any other obligation. No one told me this, but witnessing my mother’s illness caused me to reevaluate the things I thought were worthy of complaint. As miserable as I am, there is someone more miserable than me was the thought running through my head. Suddenly my pain, heartache, and suffering took a permanent backseat to the pain, heartache, and suffering of the world around me.

Part of this was a healthy awareness that drew me away from a self-absorbed, adolescent state of mind. On the other hand, I was left with an unhealthy ability to ignore myself for the sake of others. Not addressing the suffering inside myself taught me the invaluable lesson that intentional ignorance of self only results in more suffering. My perspective on the existence of suffering and how to address suffering in a healthy way was shaped by my mother’s suffering, the suffering of those who loved her, and my suffering as a result of losing her at a young age.

The present suffering in my life shapes my internal climate. It shapes the stability of the emotional and spiritual platform I operate from as a leader. One of the consequences of having past suffering in my life is that I have lived through what happens when suffering is left unresolved. Unresolved suffering does not remain dormant. It expresses itself in uncontrolled, irrational, and reactionary ways. As a teenager I experienced this through different forms of self-mutilation. As a leader I experience this when, instead of exemplifying a Christian response to a current situation, I react without thinking.

Essentially, anything that is a part of the leader becomes a part of that person’s leadership. Recognizing this encourages me to work toward resolving suffering inside myself because I don’t want to operate from an unstable and unpredictable internal platform.

Future suffering is the anticipated suffering. I’m not addressing future or anticipated suffering because I want to suffer. However, as someone constantly working toward resolving suffering inside myself, I acknowledge that I am naturally preparing for a new season of suffering. When we open ourselves to deal with what has happened and what is happening in our lives, we allow God to prepare us for what will happen.

As a result of my personal approach to suffering, when I recognize that one of my kids is experiencing a form of suffering or when the community is experiencing suffering, I approach the situation much differently than I would otherwise. First, I don’t ignore it, and I don’t let anyone else ignore it. Period.

Second, I am intentional about articulating the importance of accepting suffering in one’s own life and for the members of the community to support one another in accepting their suffering. What I commonly run into with my kids when they are suffering is what I said when I was a suffering teenager: “It’s not that bad. Really, it could be worse. Someone somewhere has it worse than I do.” The truth is, that is an unhealthy and hypocritical state of mind to live in, or to believe is acceptable.

Third, I take the time to discuss issues of death, suicide, mourning, transition, and other situations that bring about feelings that could be marked as suffering. I want them to know that God didn’t ignore it, neither should they, and neither will we.

Taking the time to address suffering as people, as leaders, and as ministry communities can be overwhelming, difficult, and scary. I encourage you to try it anyway. Why? Because it’s godly, healing, and loving. I promise.

Being fired was one of the best things to happen to my career.

In the time it took me to move from a performance-based evaluation to being let go, I plumbed the depths of my calling. It was a painful, frustrating, and rewarding experience. I got back in touch with the reasons I began working with young adults. Never had I intended to work at the church of what’s happening now or to build the best programs or to have the biggest events.

Inside of all this soul searching, I found out something about myself. My passion lies in awakening possibilities in teens and in those who work with them. If I’m not doing that, what’s the point?

As I pondered the many new opportunities from my previous church’s outplacement service, I began to build a new way of doing youth ministry that fed my soul. It wasn’t that programs were bad; they just weren’t necessary if I was doing the things I loved.

Reading through the gospels, I realized that there are few—if any—stories about people being changed from sermons. More the norm was a transformation that grew out of a personal encounter with Jesus in the context of a small group or one-on-one encounter. Why was I spending so much of my time working on a broadcast message when it was the less effective method? Presentations took a back seat to building real relationships.

At the same time, God was working on my perspective of the gospel. A friend put new thoughts in my head when he told me, “What you save them with is what you save them to.” If I bring teens into the church through attractional, bait-and-switch methods, they have little grounding in the actual good news of Christ. My understanding of the gospel moved toward a personal message that confronts specific pains in our lives instead of a ticket through the pearly gates.

As I solidified these paradigm shifts in my life and ministry, a new person emerged. Previously in the interviewing process, I researched churches and figured out what I thought they wanted. Now I shamelessly went in and told them who I was and what I was about. I was absolutely convinced of the kind of work I should be doing. After I was hired, I sought the lead pastor and told him my problems instead of waiting to be called in.

The effort I spent in ministry became more focused and concrete as well. Instead of spending 80% of my time finding a better ice breaker, I developed deep bonds with teenagers. At some point, I stopped preparing and started doing. My time with students became more dynamic instead of a static, one-sided meeting. Surprisingly, more and more of my time went into prayer and personal development. It made me more effective.

All of the suffering I went through changed me. It made me a passionately focused agent of change for youth and their families. As I look back through these times of hardship, I know God used them to sharpen me into a better instrument for his kingdom. Suffering is the best gift I have received from Jesus. It makes me more like him.

Conversely, I can’t tell you how many times I wished I could have traded in my pastoral role for my old corporate job. Yes, that career was unfulfilling. Yes, the longer I did it, the more bored I was. But at least it didn’t hurt so bad. When I was betrayed, I could speak up. When I was wronged, I could relay my issue to a human resources professional. And when I failed, I could deal with being passed over for a promotion or a raise. Sitting in a small group of my peers, I could talk about my job sucking or my boss being a jerk and get empathy from people in similar situations.

But in ministry the stakes are so much more personal. And it’s a very private struggle. The isolation and lack of camaraderie are ultimately what hurt the most. All too often when you reach out with a struggle, you are rebuked or even belittled. At least for me, this meant I carried a lot of burdens. Suffering became part of my ministry.

In truth, this personal suffering was enough. I understood it as part of the calling. But what caused unnecessary suffering was the impact of my vocation on my family. My wife couldn’t just be a wife and new mother. She had to carry the mantle of pastor’s wife and receive unlimited and unwanted advice from the hens of the church. When our kids misbehaved, we felt the judgment from fellow congregants.

Early in my ministry, I allowed the weight of suffering to shape my attitude and self-image. If I were made of Play-Doh, my body would have been flattened. But, as I’ve gotten stronger, more used to the weight and its impact, I’ve learned that there is a healthy suffering that just comes with being a follower of Christ, which I can deal with.

But, there is also abuse that comes my way that I no longer permit to have the impact it once did. I’ve become like a junkyard dog in protecting my family and the families of my ministry friends. That’s the weight of ministry I no longer allow to shape them.

We all have relational currency with everyone we encounter. I choose to spend a large amount of the available currency in each individual relationship with my youth focused essentially on helping them articulate their faith. That’s what we’re all here for, right? To help the young saints of our communities grow in their faith. One mark of growth in faith is the ability to articulate that faith.

In my opinion, articulation is a product of conviction and practice. My kids like to joke with me about what happens when I start asking questions. “Oh, here she goes again!” they’ll say. We laugh about it, but those questions are how I help them grow. Those questions provide them with the opportunity to articulate in a safe place what they believe. Sometimes those questions are directed at the group, and sometimes the question is more appropriate for an individual. It can be healthy to wrestle with issues of faith as a group and individually with proper support and encouragement.

I’m not referring to the equivalent of a firing squad that has them leaving their time with you feeling as if they aren’t Christian. I’m referring to challenging them in a healthy way to say what they know in their hearts or what they are learning as a part of their personal growth. They will say things that even surprise themselves; things that create more questions and things that spark strong convictions.

In addition to these opportunities to state what they believe within the community of the group and individually with me, corporate opportunities within the community of the church are powerful moments for the youth and the church body. Some of them have testimonies of faith that rival the lives and testimonies of our own faith stories. When they have come to a place where they are comfortable to approach this opportunity with even an air of confidence, our support, advocacy, and encouragement will be invaluable. We might even end up as their bulletproof vests, but that’s okay too.

The greatest gift of youth (and young adult) ministry in my life is to have the opportunity to advocate, encourage, and support my kids as they grow in their love for Christ and articulate their faith. I’ll take a hit and sacrifice a win for them any day, and I’m sure you’d do the same for yours.

Questions are better than answers. Most youth leaders fear the socially awkward silence that follows a question in a meeting. That pause is a golden moment. In that absence of aural noise, thoughts happen. Too often, we don’t give time for students to think through the truths we teach. It’s impossible for teens to internalize new ideas without time to process them. I began using the Socratic method in my teaching. This teaching style focuses more on processing questions than on finding answers. Questions need to be open ended, provoking the stillness needed to develop a response. Binary questions (those that can be answered yes or no) shut down thoughts and conversation. So I learned to shape my questions into those that couldn’t devolve into a one-word answer.

How you think is more important than what you know. At the same time I began developing my questioning technique, I saw a flaw in the educational system. This flaw focused teaching around memorizing and regurgitating facts. Teens weren’t being taught to think. Realizing the need, I began to organize logical trains of thought, much like the Pauline epistles. When considering a topic, I tried to consider what questions students would have from their perspective. Progressing logically through a subject helped model a way for students to reason through questions away from our time together. I began seeing youth using these skills outside of church.
The process is more important than the outcomes. Here’s the real kicker for this way of teaching. If you use this method, there will be uncomfortable moments. As you wrestle through some tough thoughts and allow your students to ask difficult questions, it will challenge both you and them. Those who look for an easy answer will be frustrated. I constantly remind my group that life doesn’t always resolve itself. Faith believes even when we don’t see the outcomes. We are called to work out our faith even into discomfort.

Warning: This way of leading discussions isn’t for everyone. It pulls teens from a pre-adolescent, concrete mindset into the abstract perspective of adulthood. As you introduce this method, the potential for frustration will be high. Acknowledge that what you are asking of your young adults is hard. Thank them for participating and encourage them for growing into a new way of thinking.

So, why would you do this if it has the potential to frustrate students? I get that question often from new parents. If today’s adolescents are going to be able to stand firm in their faith, they will eventually have to own it. All discipline causes discomfort at the time, but then it produces amazing results. If teenagers are going to be able to articulate their faith, they will have to face the discomfort of working through it for themselves.

As a result of their collective traits, with the fun and joy of working with these young men comes significant thought about intentional ways I can help them develop an articulated faith. Each and every week (and the communication/community touch points in between) I absolutely must be purposeful about my passing on of the faith.

Below are eight intentional ways I am helping students develop an articulated faith.

1. Putting myself in situations where my life of faith and their inquiries about faith converge.
2. Allowing my group to ask any question at any time about anything in order to re-narrate their questions around faith in God.
3. Send them various resources they can read and interact with in order to stretch their thinking and come into their own understanding of life and faith.
4. Help them develop a communal hermeneutic—a way to read the Bible as a community that gives them a framework for interpretation and application.
5. Be a visible presence at our church’s gatherings so they can see how important developing an articulated faith is to me.
6. Help them (by modeling it) with an ability to lean all of their past, current, and future understandings about the Christian faith up against what Scripture says about any given theme (if it does), what the church has believed through its growth over time, what their own abilities to reason help them conclude, and what the personal and practical experiences of their own faith help them understand.
7. Inspire them to see how their faith development and the ability to articulate that in both word and deed impact the world and participate with God’s mission in the world. In other words, help them try to finish any sentence about their own lives with the phrase, “for the sake of the world.” For example, I play football, for the sake of the world. I am going to study education in college, for the sake of the world. I am engaging acts of mercy for the sake of the world. You get the point.
8. Provide situational ways in which students can engage the narratives of this world. Every time we plan a day of serving in our community, we’ll spend time reflecting on that experience, and I’ll help them navigate through conversation as to what meaning they are making for themselves but in the context of the entire community/small group.

If we aren’t being intentional about helping students developing an articulated faith, then we are shaping and guiding students into spiritual formation for the mission of God. If we aren’t shaping students into spiritual formation for the mission of God, then we are most likely running a babysitting/recreation/daycare/etc. organization. Isn’t that the most offensive, unfair perception placed on a youth worker?