Craig Jutila, Volunteers, and Ninjas.

Volunteering is a unique enterprise. Since there's no threat of losing a paycheck, volunteers actually have to buy in to what's going on. They invest time and energy, and many things are accomplished. According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, in 2010 a little over a quarter of the entire United States population volunteered in some capacity! And a third of those were for religious organizations. That's, like, over 60 million volunteers!

For many, it can be a huge rush - it's fun to do something helpful, make an impact, and create positive change for a people or place. After a great day, I've heard many people describe getting a "volunteer high". Because people are choosing to buy-in to whatever endeavor, it also means, on some level, they care. So when opinions differ, or miscommunications happen, or feelings are hurt, etc., it feels like there's something more at stake. And at risk of sounding like Big Bird, we're always going to have conflicts; maybe the question is how we handle them.

Children's Ministry Magazine ran an article by Craig Jutila, children's pastor at Saddleback, intended for children's leaders, but it's good stuff for anyone. He offers three points:

1. Develop Thick Skin and a Sensitive Heart - "Have a magnet in your heart and a compass in your head", Jutila says.

2. Respond, Don't React - Craig says he waits 24 hours when he gets a negative email that "has the hint of negativity", so as to give his fingers' emotions the best possible chance to write a thoughtful (not sarcastic/angry) response!

3. Outlast Your Critics - I literally laughed out loud when I read: "I have a personal theory. I think there are about 15 people who drive around together in a van from church to church. They spread their discontent with just about everything that's going on. They thrive on pointing out your mistakes, correcting your path, and adjusting your perspective. They're so negative it's like they're earning some kind of award for it. No matter what church you go to, you'll meet these people. So don't be surprised when their van unloads. My point is, the goal is to simply outlast those who are critical of you."

I might add a fourth: be direct. This is probably contextual, but it can feel like there's often cultural pressure (whether in church or not) to be nice. This approach says fewer conflicts equals greater health, period. The problem is this approach often breeds resentment, and it gets easier and easier to rationalize staying quiet, and ultimately leaving [the marriage, the organization, the house, the situation]. And if folks DO stick around, people get the message that it's better to hide [their thoughts, their opinions, their emotions], since even the smallest of conflicts become an event, rather than just a passing conversation. The paradox: in an effort to maintain fewer and fewer conflicts - deeper, bigger, harder-to-resolve conflicts take hold.

Dang, and here I promised myself this blog post would stay light and easy-breezy!

On the other side of the coin, conflicts can be fantastic opportunities. The people closest to me are the friends who have stuck around for a long time and been willing to work through our "stuff". For me, I don't feel like I really know someone until we've worked through a conflict. There's a potential bond that's very powerful! The friendship becomes something you've fought together for.

It does seem like at the end of the day, all personal conflicts have one thing in common: they're risky. Things can go well, or, uh, not. How do you sail these waters? What's helped you?

#2 History of Children's Ministry - David C Cook

Recently I mentioned starting on a project that I'm pretty excited about, the history of children's ministry. You'd be hard pressed to find a more niche market! To start, I'm looking to answer one question in particular: where did today's concept of "kids church" come from? That is, a full adult church service model -- worship, offering, sermon, communion/Eucharist, etc. -- offered to children 12 and under. Tens of thousands of Protestant churches have a form of kids church, regardless of their size.

It seemed like a good place to start might be Christian publishers. Find the people who publish kids church curriculum to the masses. A big shoutout to David C Cook, who generously provided archived materials for this project, and put up with my incessant "I just have one more question" temperament! For the unfamiliar, David C Cook is one of the largest publishers of church materials in the US. They've expanded their product line to include greeting cards, a magazine, curricula, and books.

They started me with a pamphlet on their history which tells the story in comic-book format. If you guessed it was made (or updated, perhaps) in the early 90s, well, you'd be right, my friend! 1993, actually.

Their story began in the Great Chicago Fire in 1871, when David C Cook's mail order business burned to the ground. He bootstrapped his way back into an office on credit, and restarted his business. He'd been teaching Sunday school on the side, but without printed materials as an aid. So, he made his own, and published them, undoubtedly drawing on his experience as a "printer's devil" in his college years. The front cover says the company was founded in 1875. The publishing business grew to become his (and, perhaps, his wife's) full time job, and continued to expand over the years.

David C Cook published their first kids church curriculum in 1965, which surprised me (the date is earlier than I'd have guessed kids church curriculum started). They sent me an extra copy last week, and I eagerly read through it. A few things worth noting:

- In '65, Cook's kids church materials are designed as teacher's aids, not yet a full blown curriculum. It's fun to see these first fruits, as Cook went on to offer (and still does) such curriculum.

- Prep time. Every publishing company is faced with a big consideration: volunteer teachers. If class requires too much prep, volunteers may feel overworked and disinterested. However, if the entire class is scripted, volunteers may feel micromanaged and creatively blocked. Finding the balance -- or the right crowd -- is crucial. Also, children's pastors oversee said volunteers and often have purchasing power. That's why good curriculum has to please volunteers, which pleases church leader(s), which translates to more business. You can tell there's intent to find that balance even in this early curriculum. There's a good helping of punch-out flannelgraph characters and instructions, while Bible verses and interpretation are omitted.

- Each lesson in the curriculum tells the teacher the "Theme", "Bible Emphasis", "Aim", and "Use Figures [e.g. Frisky, a farmer, cow, etc.]" for the day. For example, the first story is called Frisky Finds a Home. Theme: Kindness. Bible emphasis: a woman is kind to Elisha, II Kings 4:8-11. Aim: To encourage the children to be kind to others. Use figures: 1, 3, 8, etc.

- There are 20 stories total that can be given in any order.

So, if you've looked any curriculum recently, things have changed over the last 46 years! Have you tracked with this change? Do share with us! Long-time children's leader extraordinaire, Jim Wideman, who graciously agreed to an interview recently, helped me wrap my head around this evolution. The next installment will feature some highlights - not to sound too much like a Saturday morning cartoon, but, stay tuned!

Yet Another Review of Rob Bell's "Love Wins"

Reliably late to the pop culture bandwagon, I just finished Love Wins with a group of friends. My disclaimer here is that I'm unable to give a Facebook-friendly review with a direction of my thumb. While reading, my reactions were multi-layered and complex, which is just how the book was written. Bell never settles for simplicity, always describing with another texture, another image, another angle.

The book opens with a story, where Bell's church held an art contest. The theme was "what it means to be a peacemaker". One piece depicted Mahatma Gandhi, and while it won the hearts of many onlookers, it didn't win everyone - one person attached a paper to it that said, "Reality check: He's in hell." Bell takes great issue with this thinking, and seeks to redefine the traditional, simplistic viewpoint of heaven and hell. The whole book takes this tone. It reminds me of Morpheus in the karate training sequence in the first Matrix, to Neo, "I'm here to free your mind..." and "... do you think that's air you're breathing?"

From there Bell discusses heaven and hell. He argues both on Biblical and experiential grounds that heaven and hell are realities we encounter daily. For example, the love and joy of a happy, content marriage... heaven on earth. Conversely, take any brutally hurtful injustice (say, abuse) - is this not hell?, he argues. I can't help but agree; heaven and hell do seem like things occurring right now. Bell argues that to think of heaven and hell simply in terms of something that happens later, like when we die, is a grave misunderstanding of Jesus' redemptive story. It seems like this is what sparked at least some of the controversy - is Bell saying that there is no afterlife version of heaven and hell? Frankly, I feel like this question derails us off of Bell's larger, helpful points. Namely, if Jesus really is initiating heaven on earth, then that's a conversation worth having because it offers us a life we couldn't get on our own - suddenly we have access to unprecedented perspective, help, and guidance. We're invited out of our small worlds and into a larger story, Bell says.

One cornerstone of Bell's writing is he often gives four or five descriptions for one point, none of them individually giving the full scope of his thoughts on any issue. I'd imagine for people who are strongly bent towards theology, like, systematic study and definition of the Bible, they'd find his writing slippery. It's hard to pin him down sometimes. But that's just what I like about it. While his love for sound Biblical interpretation is evident, his writing often feels more like a painting than a logical treatise. I feel something when I read it. And he seems aware of this - on the Bible stories of Jesus, he says:

The point, then, isn't to narrow it to one particular metaphor, image, explanation, or mechanism. To elevate one over the others, to insist that there's a 'correct' or 'right' one, is to miss the brilliant, creative work these first Christians were doing when they used these images and metaphors."

And he often pits seemingly conflicting thoughts next to each other, creating a compelling idea to demonstrate a point:

But sometimes those individuals' [ex-churchgoers] rejection of church and the Christian faith they were presented with as the only possible interpretation of what it means to follow Jesus may in fact be a sign of spiritual health."

Going against my own disclaimer, it's now thumb time. A few things I liked:

- Bell is relentlessly creative. Parts of the book are written like poetry both in structure and content. Sometimes I find myself with an intuitive understanding of what he's saying, even though it's hard to articulate. (Like trying to fully describe a sunset with words.) Not to sound crass, but it's refreshing to meet a well-grounded, artistic Protestant. I even hope to be one someday (har har).

- Love Wins is full of stories. Like, I enjoy reading about actual people. I lose track of faith discussions that are too conceptual and abstract.

- I love how succinct Bell's writing is. The book is 100 something pages (I can't tell on my Kindle), and he says a LOT in 8 chapters.

- 20liters.org. This nonprofit gets mention in the post-book footnotes. I didn't realize there are 1 billion (with a B) people on earth without access to clean water. This nonprofit arranges inexpensive, effective filtration systems for such folks in Rwanda. Cool.

Other thoughts:

- For the same reason I enjoyed the book, and being pushed to think differently about heaven and hell, I quickly found I had to be okay with unanswered questions. For example, people have clearly loved and hated the following types of statements:

Will everybody be saved, or will some perish apart from God forever because of their choices? Those are questions, or more accurately, those are tensions we are free to leave fully intact. We don't need to resolve them or answer them because we can't, and so we simply respect them..."

- I was most helped when I read Love Wins with the approach of, "What can I learn?" and "What do I like?" There's much to be gleaned in the book - and best of all, if read with a group of friends, there are a million conversations to be had afterwards.

Is hearing from God hurtful?

A few weeks back, I had an interesting conversation with a friend about hearing from God, or hearing God's voice. Several infamous moments in history came up. Like, say, the Crusades, or gross mistreatment of Native Americans during early American settlement, where unspeakable acts of violence were performed in the name of God. Though unspoken, I think a takeaway for both of us went something like, "I want nothing to do with that kind of conviction!"

Also a few weeks back, Annie and I were looking for a car. As often happens with research, I'd nearly exhausted myself looking through dealerships, Craig's List, and classifieds. Upon driving home from a friend's house on my day off, I felt like God said, "Peter, you should check out Craig's List before you go home." (We didn't have internet access at home yet). Drove to the office, checked out Craig's List, and saw a car that looked perfect for well below blue book value. Turns out the seller listed it about 5 minutes prior. I was the first caller, and not only did we get a great car, but we saved a bundle. While this is obviously a more mundane, day-to-day situation, most of my big shifts like moving to a new city, career choices, marriage, etc., I'd attribute to some sense of acting on convictions, or inklings sometimes, of, "I feel like God said...".

So, if you believe such things happen, clearly the idea that, "I heard X from God," can be both freeing and helpful, or, likewise, can be limiting or (even worse) hurtful. Surprisingly, I find myself agreeing with skeptics as much as advocates. For example, I'm sold that hearing God shouldn't preclude my being a thoughtful person, or evaluating my choices. Given so many negative examples, one might wonder if it's even possible to be a person who thinks critically while hearing from a God who can offer perspective about my friends and career.

I've always admired people with intense conviction, but perhaps from a distance.

Like, whatever I think of their theology, it's hard to imagine a close friendship with the Boondock Saints. But that's me. Conviction, after all, can fuel big, wonderful choices. MLK Jr., thank God for his conviction!

And therein lies the tricky thing about prayer. How can we be discerning, thoughtful people without losing the conviction that propels us to make bold choices? How do you sail these waters?

Intro - History of Children's Ministry

I walked in on the back-end of a conversation one day (don't you love that) where one coworker just asked the other, "What year do you think kids first began separating?" Excited about a deep, riveting conversation about possibly 1) conjoined twins, 2) child development and formation, or 3) quantum physics, I chimed in with a sure winner to any of the three, "I'll bet it was in the '60s."

Well, turns out they were talking about a large-group church service for children, which I'll refer to here on as "Kids Church". I still think my answer was correct. But it's a popular concept in churches these days, to have an entire church service dedicated to children under 12. Think of church services for adults (worship songs, sermon, tithe/offering, etc.), but for kids. Mom and dad go into another part of the building -- or if it's a giant church, perhaps another building altogether -- and have their church service; kids have their own. All this hardly seems worth mentioning as virtually all protestant churches these days have a kids program along these lines. It's just assumed that it exists.

But this is actually a new concept in church history. For the first 1800+ years or so of Christian church history, church for kids largely revolved around sitting with mom and dad during adult services. It's only in the last, perhaps, 150 years that this concept of "church for kids" came into being. So, like, where did it come from? I decided to sniff around. There are ample books on end regarding teen ("youth") and adult church, but not a single collective source of information for children's church! I checked out many of the big retailers online, asked children's pastors across the country, and have put the word out. I'm fairly confident there's not even so much as a blog with such historical resources. (That said, if I missed one you know about - please pass it my way!)

So I've decided to take on the project. The hope is to provide a resource to children's workers that will give us a sense of "where we've come from" so we'll be able to know "where we're going." Thanks to the generosity of many children's leaders, there are many research projects in the pipeline: interviews, archives, conversations, etc.! I'm way excited! And I can't wait to share the findings.

And along those lines, if you have any information, contacts, leads, authors, etc. - pass them my way! I'd love to include it. Stay tuned for the next post!

On Volunteer Appreciation

A few months back I found myself in several conversations

about volunteer appreciation with other children's leaders. Deciding to skim through several books written about it, the approach generally seems to be, "Do things, O Leader, to show your appreciation to your volunteers." Verbal

praise, gifts, high fives and hugs, free food, etc... gestures of appreciation. Show appreciation, and volunteers will feel welcomed and happy, which will make them want to stay (the books argued). One line stands out to me from a popular book on the topic, "An appreciated volunteer is a happy volunteer."

This discussion is now firmly ingrained into the atmosphere of children's leadership - a totally random person on the street could go up to a children's ministry leader and ask, "What have you done to show appreciation to your volunteers?" and you'd undoubtedly have a conversation on your hands. It's assumed that that's what happens: children's leaders show appreciation to volunteers. It's what we do... after all, we're children's leaders!

Well, apparently I missed the memo on this. Thinking back to my teenage and young adult volunteering, I'd felt the happiest when several things were at play:

- Ideas were being taken seriously. A culture of teamwork made all the difference here. Some of the most disappointing times for volunteers, then and now, are when the opposite is true. I'm thankful for patient leaders who listened to my ideas, even when they were probably way off target. It showed they at least were interested

in me, even if my idea was a flop.

- I was excited about the initial reason for volunteering. A compelling purpose is just that: compelling. It's what makes getting up at 7a every Sunday, to do an hour of tedious setup, worthwhile.

- My presence added value to the endeavor. I can't prove it, but I'm pretty confident I've rolled more sound cables than any person alive. Why on Earth a team of people would opt to wake up at the bootiecrack of dawn, set up a sound stage from scratch, and tear the entire thing down at the end of the day, EVERY Sunday for years, is completely mysterious. It makes more sense, though, when they feel they're adding some serious worth to the venue!

One of the most fun parts of my job is getting to connect with lots of enthusiastic volunteers. Seriously, there are people on the team here who have been here for 10+ years, and are passionate about what they do! It's a great energy to be around. Like, I'm at a place where there are volunteers who outlast the children's pastors! Their enthusiasm is contagious, and it piqued my interest. I asked each of them at different times, "What keeps you going over the long run like that?" Without missing a beat, each of them responded in the same way, "I feel called to do it." Each has stories of times they've felt appreciated, as well as neglected.

As much as tokens of appreciation are nice, the thing that seems to drive people over the long haul is some personal conviction that what they're doing matters. I have a hunch that "volunteer appreciation" boils down to this alone. How appreciated people feel is a function of how valuable (they perceive) the organization is, and how valuable they are in it.

How do you feel most appreciated?

Hospitality, and A Recent Trip to Rob Bell's Church

While passing through Grand Rapids, MI recently, my family and I had the fun experience of visiting Mars Hill Bible Church, who many of you know is pastored by Rob Bell. Like many, I was aware of the controversy about Bell's latest book, Love Wins, so it was fun to actually visit his church and hear him live. (As a total side note: interestingly, much of the controversy started before the book had even been released. I'm sure some had advance copies, but the rest?) We thoroughly enjoyed the experience, with one surprising takeaway.

You see, just down the street is another giant church with bright, gorgeous signage out front. If you're going on purpose to whatever church that was, it's clear when you've arrived! There's no mistaking it. Mars Hill on the other hand... well... we pulled in the parking lot, and as any fool can see, it was clear we were there when we saw their sign:

After figuring out we were at the right place, we thought maybe they forgot to put their name in the giant white nothingness next to the green circle thing -- don't you just hate it when you convert a mall to a church building and absent-mindedly space small details like your name on four giant signs outside? But no, it seems intentional. There on the door, in teeny, tiny, white letters is the name "Mars Hill Bible Church"!

Which starkly contrasts with virtually every church in the area (which, as an aside, is totally intentional of Mars Hill, if you ask me. It's a response to the icky in-your-face evangelical culture in which many of us grew up and were disenchanted by). The inside had a similar vibe. A lone table with free bagels (sliced into quarters... smart) & coffee. Muted colors everywhere. Meticulously designed interior with wall art, sitting areas, lounge, and sculptures. They pulled off an amazing balance of welcoming guests without the appearance of trying too hard.

They have something like 3,000 active members, which does not include visitors and regular attenders who haven't signed up as official members. So clearly, like, it's working for them. Mars Hill gave me something to think about - what if hospitality is more about the environment we create? As demonstrated in this awesome vid:

I learn so much from comedy! But here's what hits me. Being hospitable, on Mars Hill terms at least, is paradoxical. In giving people ample freedom to come and go as they wish, they feel welcome. It's intentional yet subtle. It happens in the way we design our buildings and parking lots, and also in our body language, word choices, and presentation. To be sure, part of this seems contextual - it probably depends on where you are in the country. Welcoming people in Grand Rapids is different than Seattle. But my sense is that more and more people, everywhere, want to be welcomed without knowing they're being welcomed. But that's me - what do you think?

kidlink

Growing up in various churches -- Methodist, Baptist, Lutheran, and Presbyterian to name a few -- I'd describe the model for my church experience with one word: education. Learn about God. Grow in knowledge. Conversations with mom and dad revolved around "what we learned today", (to which the answer was always some variation of "Jesus"). After working that model for many years, though, it came up short for me. It's not that I didn't learn good information -- there are probably worse ways to spend your time than learning what the Bible says. But the deepest questions I had about life hadn't been answered. Say there was an all-loving God who wanted to give me perspective about my future and my friendships and my career, could I even get to know Him? Can I, like, TALK to Him? Would he have important things to say to me?

What does THAT sort of life look like? Somehow I'd missed it. I knew the Bible stories, definitions of concepts like grace and righteousness, but, like, I didn't actually know God! How the heck did that happen? How could a person possibly spend 12 years in churches and come out the other end with deep knowledge of concepts, but distant from an actual God?

Fast forward some years, and I'm now in CHARGE of a children's department (who knew?), and it got me thinking. What if our ministry could be about that connection with a living God? What if there were a God who we could feel close to, like, now? If we could receive day-to-day direction on the things we're actually experiencing (for kids: school, friendships, family life, and so forth). That's a program I'd get excited about.

So we're attempting to do just that with our newly renamed children's ministry, "kidlink". The idea is that everything about our ministry is designed to "link kids" to God and other people. That they'd be able to find that rich connection with God and hear from him.

Well, this approach has some very real, practical implications for the classroom. For example...

• Prayer always needs to be emphasized as "two-way", which is what we see all through scripture. We speak to God, he speaks to us. Then, especially with older kids... TRY it! Show them how to do it. Pray, and then listen. Let them watch us listen. Try it as a class. Have them write or draw what they think God is saying. In this way, prayer is a process, not a destination.
• Our kids church culture needs to be that of discussion and possibilities. A place where many different perspectives are welcomed. How do we do that? It's simpler than we might think. For example, take Moses at the Red Sea. What if we stopped reading the story right as Moses and company pulls up to the Red Sea (before it's been parted) - how about ask, "Pretend YOU are Moses! You are in charge of this huge group of people, there's an army on your tail, and there's nowhere to go! What would you do?" Inspire discussion. Ask lots of open-ended questions. This way kids aren't being taught; they're being engaged. One of my favorite posts on this subject is by Amy Dolan who argues that we need to move away from the ever-popular "one main point" sermons by asking open ended questions; and in this way each child leaves the room with his or her own main point.
• Tony Hsieh, CEO of Zappos, has it right: "Get the culture right, and everything else falls into place." Foster a culture of connection with God and other kids by making the choice to let kids see your faith. If God has done something for me lately, after my wife, children are probably going to be one of the first groups of people to hear about it. I want them to see what God is doing in me, and to have freedom to ask questions.

So how's all this going so far? It hasn't been without its bumps, but I'm excited even this early in the game. Next time I'll post some stories of what seem like pretty amazing things happening for kids!