Thursday, September 24, 2009

Is the Era of Age Segmentation Over?

Evie Knottnerus, the wife of Sam, our new Director of Children, Youth and Family Ministries, forwarded this article to me, and it is well worth reading. Some of the thoughts expressed ring true with some of our recent experiences. It is entitled, "Is the Era of Age Segmentation Over?" and can be found here.

In light of Tuesday night's discussion at the session about worship, this is really timely. Some of the key grafs that caught my eye (graf is an internet shorthand for paragraph)

What is the long-term impact of segregating teens?

A lot of kids aren't going to both youth group and church on Sundays; they're just going to youth group. As a result, graduates are telling us that they don't know how to find a church. After years at the kids' table, they know what youth group is, but they don't know what church is.

There are a lot of statistics regarding what happens to high school seniors when they graduate from a youth group. As I've looked at the research, my best estimate is that between 40 and 50 percent of seniors from youth groups really struggle to continue in their faith and connect with a faith community after graduation.

What can churches do to increase the likelihood that our kids stay in church after they graduate?

I think the future of youth ministry is intergenerational youth ministry.

At this point in our research, we've found that one thing churches can do that really makes a difference is getting kids actively involved in the life of the church before they graduate.

There is a strong link between kids staying in church after they graduate and their involvement in intergenerational relationships and worship. It's important, we're finding, to get beyond a token youth Sunday and start thinking about how to involve kids as ushers and greeters and readers and musicians in our services.

We're also finding a relationship between teenagers serving younger kids and their faith maturity when they graduate from high school. Teens should not only be the objects of ministry; they need to be the subjects of ministry as well. It's the 16 year old that has relationships with 66 year olds and 6 year olds who is more likely to stay involved in a faith community after she graduates.
......
Let's start with worship. What does intergenerational worship look like?

First, it needs to be theologically driven. This is far beyond any kind of politically correct appreciation of diversity that includes age diversity. God intends for community to be diverse in race, gender, and age. First and foremost, then, a church needs to be committed to being a hub where 16 year olds can have real relationships not just with peers but with 36 year olds and 66 year olds.

How that works out in practice will be different in every church. Some churches try to find a compromise worship style that nobody hates but nobody loves and everybody kind of tolerates. Other churches are doing more of a hodgepodge, where there will be a few songs that sound like youth songs and then there will be a hymn. At the root, being intentionally intergenerational means that churches need to be aware of and flexible about things that can be alienating to kids.

The good news is that with the recovery of ancient practices, spiritual disciplines, and kids' growing interest in tradition, there's a lot more common ground for adults and kids than in the past. And we need to celebrate that. I'm not saying that a 13 year old needs to be the pastor's target audience. But a pastor can do things that will engage a teenager. Using drama and video and telling stories, for example. I have sat through hundreds of sermons, and I watch the teenagers, and when they pay the most attention is almost always when the pastor is telling stories.

Youth can also be involved in the service itself by sharing testimonies and leading worship. One thing we're also doing in our church, which I love, is moving toward having families as greeters instead of just individuals. Kids can hand out stickers to other kids to make them feel welcome.

This could have major implications for church programming.

One youth pastor shared with me that he started questioning the purpose of having both a Sunday and Wednesday meeting for the youth group. They were doing basically the same things twice a week: fellowship, worship, and teaching. At the same time, the kids were disengaged from the wider church. None of them were going to a worship service on Sunday. They were just going to youth group.

So this youth pastor canceled Sunday youth group. Now kids show up on Wednesday for youth group, but on Sunday they are part of the larger church. They serve Communion and are ushers and greeters, and now and then they have roles in the sermon. The youth pastor said, "We knew it was going to be great for the kids; we had no idea how great it was going to be for the church."

It sounds like you have high expectations of what youth can and will do.

Teenagers are up to the challenge. In our college transition project, we asked high school seniors what they want more of in youth group. Time for deep conversation ranked highest. Games ranked last. That's one example of how we're currently undershooting. Tenth graders study Shakespeare. What are we offering them at church? Nothing comparable to Shakespeare.
.......
That's enough to whet your appetite. Read the whole thing.

Let me know what you think. [SDG- JS]

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Farewell, Dave

At 1:20 a.m. on September 1, my brother passed away. As former president Reagan so eloquently spoke, he “slipped the surly bonds of earth and touched the face of God.” He was 51 years young, and leaves a wife and four daughters. He also leaves a whole fire department.

Dave died as he lived, with a positive outlook. He firmly believed each day would be better than the next. And in this case, for him, it was true. What he lost in his battle with cancer has now been restored. What we have lost in his battle with cancer, we will have to wait for the restoration of all things.

Many continue to ask, “How are you doing?” To be honest, I simply do not know. Even if I do know, my emotions are so raw, that I am unsure how to tell you. We Stochl men have often been accused of having the emotional range of a teaspoon. That is by far too generous an assessment. We hold things pretty close to the vest.

If you ask me, and I do not respond, just know that I am grateful for your prayers, and your cards, and your calls, and your attempts to console my family and me. You have been very graciously supportive for the last 20 months since Dave’s stroke in January 2008. Know that while no single word can soothe the pain I feel. There are no magic words. But also know that just the act of asking has healing power.

Stories have healing power, too, at least for me. Allow me to share a few stories of Dave.

David John Stochl was born November 11, 1957 at Midway Hospital in St. Paul, Minnesota. And he was born backwards. He was the youngest of two sons born to James and Marian Stochl. Defying centuries of family tradition, Dave early on began pronouncing his last name as “Stoke-ell” rather than “Stock-ell”.

In first grade, Dave learned to write left handed. He imitated the teacher in front of him. Sitting at her desk, facing the class, she wrote with her right hand, and Dave used the same hand, obviously, his left. This caused people through the years to believe Dave was left-handed. Of course, in his unique way, Dave was right-handed, and only wrote left-handed.

He developed an early fascination with anything that moved and had wheels. An early Christmas present was a red Tonka fire engine, a portent of things to come no doubt. His favorite book as a kid? “Go Dog, Go” by Dr. Seuss.

Our childhood summers were spent at Lake Sylvia near Saint Cloud, Minnesota, at an old yellow fishing cabin our parents owned. After finishing summer school, we would spend the rest of the summer at the cabin. Our days were full of fishing, swimming, eating, cribbage, comic books, and Twins baseball on the radio. Dave was the better fisherman, and always caught more and larger fish than I did. I did happen to hook a large one once, it was about 5’ 2” and weighed 95 pounds.

While out in our boat, I let slip my casting thumb a little early, and heard a loud “thud” and then an “ow!” Sure enough, I turned to see my fishing lure, all three barbed treble hooks firmly embedded in the back of Dave’s head. So Dave was taken to the Buffalo hospital in a red fire department ambulance. Riding to Buffalo with sirens blaring and going fast must have appealed to Dave. And from that day forward, Dave was “hooked” on the fire department.

Sometime after becoming a fireman, he called me and said, “Stokes! Guess what?” I replied, “What?” He said, “I just bought a fire truck.” In my mind, I am thinking, “OK, you don’t get enough at work, you gotta buy one for home, too?” It was only much later that he told me that he had been sent by his department to buy this 4X4 fire truck from the State. Still, he loved being a fireman so much, I was not surprised when he said he had just bought a fire truck.

A few years ago, when driving across the Snake River Gorge in Idaho, we stopped for a look. The depth and sheer walls of the canyon were awe-inspiring for me. Suddenly, Dave blurted out, “That’s where Evil Knievel jumped!” And sure enough, there in the distance, we could barely make out a dirt ramp that had launched the motorcycle across the canyon some 30 years before. We were related, but we sure saw things differently. And I will miss that.

I will miss just picking up my phone and calling him, having him answer by saying, “Stokes! How are you?” And me replying, “Stokes, what’s going on?” I will miss his strength and confidence, and that he was a fan of mine, and believed the best about me.

Dave was a man of few words, except when talking about cars or NASCAR. He didn’t talk much about his faith in God. The introspective genes were passed to me. Dave simply lived out his faith every day. He trusted that God loved him, and that was enough for him. I believe Dave is now in a better place, no doubt looking for some 1963 Falcons to restore, just as his own wracked body is being restored.

While Dave’s death pains me, it drives me deeper into the arms of God. I believe ever more fiercely in the resurrection of the dead, and that one day, I will see Dave again. I’ll say, “Stokes!” And he’ll say, “Stokes!” And we will embrace one another. And Jesus will smile.

Thank you for your prayers, and kind words. May God be praised.

[SDG- JS]