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Intergenerational Ministry: Not Just for Youth Ministry Anymore

Each month, we post a series of blogs around a common topic. This month, Ellen Crawford True is curating reflections on intergenerational ministry. What does it look like for the church to do and be church together? What does it feel like to understand ourselves as vital parts of the body? What can it mean to seek to be faithful as children of God together, no matter what comes next? We invite you to join the conversation on Facebook and Twitter!

by Kyle Anderson

For me, with an undergraduate degree and a decade of vocational experience in youth ministry, the idea of intergenerational ministry seems commonplace. For anyone with a background in youth ministry, it is almost assumed that intergenerational ministry is the way to do youth ministry.

_MG_6780Before I began seminary and while I was working at my last church, the Fuller Youth Institute at Fuller Theological Seminary published their research entitled Sticky Faith. The concern of the research was creating a faith that “sticks” once students graduate from high school and transition on from our youth ministries. Intergenerational ministry – the pairing of students with spiritually mature adults from the congregation – was one of the things which helped to contribute to sticky faith. In fact, the idea of adult mentorship within the congregation becomes one of the three sticky faith pillars.

As someone who was paid to do youth ministry (i.e. looking for results), this was exactly the kind of resource I was looking for! And it really is great. I’d recommend their books and resources to every congregation, pastor, youth worker, and parent out there (stickyfaith.org).

But what is it about intergenerational ministry that works? In the context of youth ministry, I think intergenerational ministry has become a tool or a resource to be used towards a greater end. When we do this, I think we are missing two theologically significant truths about the church and ministry.

  1. Our ministries in the world are only truly ministry if they are connected to God’s larger act of ministry. In other words, we are not the “doers” of ministry. We are invited into participation in something that God is already doing in our congregations, communities, and the world. We cannot simply apply a particular methodology to a ministry and expect a particular outcome; God doesn’t work that way. This is what Peter rebukes Simon the magician for in Acts 8. Simon offers Peter and John money to teach him how to impart the Holy Spirit and perform miracles.
  2. The youth ministry isn’t simply a sub group that will become the church in the future. In fact we need our young people – their ideas, opinions, perspectives, leadership – if we are truly to be the church. Think of the relationship between Samuel and Eli in 1 Samuel 3: Samuel had this experience with God that Eli did not. However, Samuel needed Eli’s help in interpreting God’s message to him. It was by neither of their efforts alone, but rather in their coming together, as equals, that the fullness of God’s revelation was revealed.

When we view intergenerational ministry as a tool to be implemented toward a greater end, we are missing the theological profundity of exactly what is happening. Intergenerational ministry doesn’t work because we “do” it well, but rather because it represents a truer, deeper, more profound sense of what God has created the church to be. I’d suggest that intergenerational ministry isn’t simply a resource, but rather it is the context, very place that God is at work within the church. I think this is the essence of NEXT Church, to engage this theological nuance in such a way that sparks imagination and creativity regarding new ways of being the church in our communities and the world.

The Book of Order puts it this way (which I love!): the polity of the PCUSA “presupposes the fellowship of women, men, and children united in covenant relationship with one another and with God through Jesus Christ. The organization rests on the fellowship and is not designed to work without trust and love.” (G-1.0102) (emphasis added)

NEXT Church is about being willing to risk everything for the sake of love of God and neighbor. When we reflect on intergenerational ministry it means letting go. It means providing a space for all, women, men, and children, in a meaningful way. It means moving from a model of assimilation to a model of mentorship. And for some (perhaps most) this is a radical redefining of what it means to be the church.


KyleKyle Anderson loves the church and working with students, and likes to play golf, travel, and take photos. Kyle lives in Princeton, NJ, with his wife and son where he is currently pursuing his MDiv at Princeton Theological Seminary.

Ten Gray Hairs and a Lot to Learn

This month, NEXT Church is highlighting passionate leaders within the Presbyterian Church (USA) who are committed to equipping and supporting new pastors, alongside those up-and-coming leaders with whom they have connected or mentored. Bob Henderson’s post on being a mentor went up yesterday. Join the conversation on Facebook.

By Petra Wahnefried

photo credit: susanne anette via photopin cc

photo credit: susanne anette via photopin cc

I drove past the gravesite where the crowd was already assembling, parked and pulled down the visor to take one last look at myself in the mirror. Taking a deep breath, I rearranged my hair so that my ten white hairs would show. I normally am appalled that I’ve started going gray at age 27 and I try to pluck the white ones out, but on this day I needed to look as wise as I could get. It was the first time I was officiating a funeral, and as I sat there looking in the mirror, I was aware of the burden that looking young can be.

As a young, female pastor, I am told again and again that “I cannot be a minister” simply because I do not look like the old man who they have come to associate with the title Reverend. Entering hospital rooms to do pastoral care, I am constantly confused for the patient’s grandchild rather than being considered a spiritual leader. When I do premarital counseling, couples wonder what wisdom I could offer them as a young, single female. Day in and day out, I struggle with people telling me that I cannot do a job that I feel called to do not in some distant future, but right now.

It is these voices that tell me that I cannot be a pastor that play though my mind as I prepare for the funeral. It’s intimidating to go to a funeral knowing that you are the youngest one there by 20 years and that it is your responsibility to lead people in celebrating the life of their loved one, grieving their loss, making sense of death, and finally proclaiming a message of the hope of the resurrection – all within a 30 minute service in which you also commit a person’s body into the ground before the rain storm blows in. Maybe they are right – maybe I am too young to be a pastor.   I begin to pray earnestly, “God, I know I am young, but please let me not screw this up. Also, I’ve heard rumor that sometimes pastors slip and fall into graves. I don’t know if that is true, but if that could also not happen, that would be great!”

It’s at this moment where I look down and get the exact reassurance that I need. I see scrawled out on paper the notes that I had taken earlier that day in a meeting with my supervisor. I was not going into this situation alone, but with the advice and knowledge of somebody who had been doing funerals for upwards of twenty years. My supervisor had carved out an hour from his busy schedule to help me prepare for the funeral and walk me through logistics. That’s the difference between many ministers who face the difficult situation of their first funeral as a young pastor and myself. I am not just a pastor but also a pastoral resident. While I perform most of the same things that an associate pastor would do, I have a supervisor to guide me through many of these intimidating firsts. In the same way that a medical resident works beside a more experienced doctor who can help them grow, I work with a great pastor who has a few more gray hairs than my measly ten so that I can succeed far more in my first years of ministry and grow into an even better minister than I am. I have profited so much from working alongside him and gleaning his knowledge. In return, my fresh look at ministry has freshened his view of the church and enabled him to be a better pastor. It is with this assurance and support that I entered my first funeral.

So, to all of those who say I am too young to be a pastor. In many ways you are right. At my first funeral, I ended up forgetting to find where the burial hole was before the service, so when it came time to put the ashes in the ground, I fumbled around to find out where the hole was underneath the astroturf rug. I ended up knocking over a whole vase of flowers that was caught by the daughter of the deceased woman who dove out onto the floor to catch it.   But, the prayers and order of service that I got advice on before that was flawless, and after having debriefed the experience with my supervisor, I will go into my second funeral with a few more gray hairs and more experience to thrive.

Petra Wahnefried is a pastoral resident at Covenant Presbyterian Church in Charlotte, NC.

Decades of Dividends

This month, NEXT Church is highlighting passionate leaders within the Presbyterian Church (USA) who are committed to equipping and supporting new pastors, alongside those up-and-coming leaders with whom they have connected or mentored. Read all the posts here. Click here to join the conversation on Facebook.

By Bob Henderson

“You have gray hair!” she exclaimed joyfully, extending her arms to offer a warm embrace.

It wasn’t exactly the greeting I expected, at least not the first part.

It happened last week at Montreat. I drove up Assembly Drive, looked to the left to check for signs of life at the home of Walter and Jeane Jones, just in case they were in town for the same conference. They were, and when I dropped in, Jeane greeted me with characteristic warmth.

“It’s so good to see you. It’s almost late enough for a glass of wine. Come on, sit on the porch. We’ll start early.”

We sat and caught up on friends, family, and laughed about what we call our “halcyon days” of ministry, five years good years together at Eastminster Presbyterian in Stone Mountain, Georgia.

photo credit: dingatx via photopin cc

photo credit: dingatx via photopin cc

Our relationship began when I was called to serve as an associate pastor for congregational care where Walter served as senior pastor. I was straight out of seminary, young, idealistic, and energetic. But, I was also inexperienced (yes, I almost dropped the baby during my first baptism), regularly impatient, and more than occasionally arrogant. The truth is that our “halcyon days” were because Walter made them that way. He was patient with my hubris, generous with opportunities for growth, and modeled for me a ministry of integrity and self-sacrifice. In other words, he was a mentor, so much so that during the past 21 years, I have often thought, “How would Walter approach this situation?” and occasionally picked up the phone to ask him.

Now that I have my own gray hair, gratitude for Walter’s investment has led me to invest in others, hoping, perhaps, to pay forward the gift given to me in those early years. To that end, my present congregation, Covenant Presbyterian in Charlotte, has begun a pastoral residency program, hired seminary interns, called young associates, and sent numerous of our members to seminary. As I’ve interacted with those launching into a life of ministry, I’ve paused to consider what made Walter so effective.

Five themes emerged:

  1. He enjoyed our time together. When I think of my time with Walter, I envision him smiling, laughing, and taking delight, even in my ineptitude. He derived genuine pleasure from my company and treasured the gift of sharing ministry;
  2. He was patient. When I began at Eastminster, I had a lot of adjusting to do. I’d been married a whole week, out of school a whole month, and lived in town a whole day. I didn’t know how ministry worked, how marriage worked, how Atlanta worked. Somehow, Walter remained patient through my learning curve, even when the demands on his own time were considerable and he would have benefited from a more experienced associate.
  3. He was humble. His experience as a naval officer, graduate student academic dean, minister, parent and spouse helped him know what he didn’t know. On the contrary, when I came out of seminary I knew a lot – in fact, a whole lot more than I know now – and he tempered my youthful hubris with his experienced humility.
  4. He created time. Growing churches are always behind on staffing and pressed for time. And yet, I could always ask, visit, talk and check in when needed. He prioritized my success and made himself available to foster it.
  5. He maintained integrity. His advice was grounded in the moral authority of his actions. His ends and means cohered. This was, perhaps, the greatest gift. He lived the life to which he called others and reminded me that more than anything, people want their pastor to be a person of genuine faith.

There’s more, of course, but to be mentored by someone with those five principles was a gift beyond price. Even more, it was an investment in the future that has paid dividends for decades, and it’s now my turn to pay it forward, hopefully by treating others with similar grace and wisdom.

Bob Henderson is the pastor of Covenant Presbyterian Church, Charlotte, NC.

A Letter to Those Pastors with a Certain Amount of Experience and Wisdom

This month, NEXT Church is highlighting passionate leaders within the Presbyterian Church (USA) who are committed to equipping and supporting new pastors, alongside those up-and-coming leaders with whom they have connected or mentored. We kicked things off this week with a post by George Anderson, the co-convener (along with Ken McFayden from UPSem) of the Trent Symposium for new pastors. Today, Lori Raible, a past Symposium participant contributes a parallel piece.

Lori Archer Raible is an associate pastor at Selwyn Avenue Presbyterian Church in Charlotte, NC. A graduate from Union Presbyterian Seminary in Charlotte, Lori is passionate about connecting people to one another through faith and community. Married to Rob, they have two children Joe (8) and Maeve (7). Most of her free time is spent running both literally as a spiritual discipline and metaphorically to and from carpool lines. Deep within her is a writer vying for those precious minutes. Currently Lori’s vocational work includes work with NEXT Church and the Trent National Conference, which is being created in support of pastors in their first 7 years of ministry. Sponsored by the NEXT Conference, Macedonian Ministries, Union Presbyterian Seminary, Montreat Conference Center, and Second Presbyterian Church, Trent@Montreat (April 18-21, 2016) will join large group worship and keynote with small groups focused on specific areas of need and coached by experienced practitioners.

One generation shall laud your works to another, 
and shall declare your mighty acts. Your kingdom is an everlasting kingdom, and your dominion endures throughout all generations. Psalm 145: 4 & 13

To Those with “A Certain Level of Experience and Wisdom,”

On behalf of those who have recently entered this peculiar and glorious calling of pastor, I write with humility, gratitude, and respect for the tenacity with which you have served and cultivated our good churches of the PCUSA.

safety net copyMine is a deep conviction and desire born from the early years of ministry. There have been holes of loneliness created by the weight of this vocation, which threatened to swallow my soul. It took both personal mentors and trustworthy peers to pull me from the depths with nets so strong that with them, I know I will not fall again.

Mentors have the power to equip new pastors with a sense of security and patience otherwise unknown. Mentors have the wisdom to guide and encourage pastors toward authentic and responsible ministry. Mentors have the unique opportunity to bolster a new generation of clergy who will be strong and bold enough to lead our Church through the transformation we are all experiencing yet unsure how to navigate.

Mine is a deep longing. A hope. A request. A plea for you to cast the net.

We have inherited a church that looks very different than the one you inherited. New clergy are okay with that. This wonky, unpredictable Church is all we have ever known. Spotty attendance, shaky budgets, and bare pews sadden us, but we aren’t afraid. If we were foolish enough to enter seminary at this point, than you can assume our optimism, foolish as it may seem, is of the Jesus sort.

We acknowledge the realities, but we don’t believe placing our old institutional model on life support[1] is what Jesus had in mind when he proclaimed, ‘new life.’ We are called to thrive together.

Our lives are not ordered the same way yours were early in ministries. Out of the 12,807 active pastors of the PCUSA, about 20% are in our first 7 years of ministry. 70% of our full-time pastors will retire in the next 10 years or so.[2] That means, for now at least, many newly ordained carry creative titles such as: bi-vocational, temporary supply, and ‘outside the bounds.’ Oh, and well over half of the candidates for ministry are now women. [3] It’s just different.

Money is an issue. Jesus doesn’t pay a whole lot these days. A majority of us serve congregations smaller than 300 members. So if we are married, our partners usually have careers too. Our families reflect the realities of making ends meet both financially and as parents (if we have kids). Like other professionals we will change jobs about 7 times in our lifetime, and 50-80% of us will ‘hang up the robe’ within 5 years.[4]

This means it is more difficult to pursue and maintain the long-term peer relationships imperative to the longevity of a healthy pastorate. We know we need them, but we struggle to find them and commit.

Yes, we love our phones.

We are connecting in broad ways.

No, it doesn’t replace the real stuff.

We know need to work on it.

It’s just a lot to juggle.

The call remains. We love to preach, and teach, and care.

Because of these rapid shifts, cultivating, planting, and renewing communities to engage those sacred privileges will require all of us. At the core of our identities as pastors is passion for the Reformed tradition, and love for the Gospel as it has been and always will be. We rely on them to root and guide us from generation to generation.

Problem is, we feel a gap.

Traditional pathways to trustworthy and organic cross-generational relationships have eroded alongside the cohesive and purposeful nature of the local presbytery. The fragmentation of both our regional and national networks increases the difficulty of accessing both practical knowledge and vital resources needed beyond seminary.

We need to know you.

We need to know what you know, because 

We don’t know, what we don’t know.

But you do.

Be patient if we seem too bold or not bold enough, too risky or not risky enough, too passive or too aggressive, too needy or too brash. Belonging breeds identity. While we are still getting used to our robes, it’s hard to trust when the communities and institutions around us feel unstable and fractured. Our ‘doing’ and ‘being’ are just beginning to click.

We need to be known, by people we can trust, in places we truly belong.

Yes it’s an investment, but if you are asked by a young pastor for your ear its because you are respected, honored, and valued as someone with something sacred to share. We need access to that. These relationships can’t be manufactured, but they can be cultivated.

There are NO WORDS to describe the gratitude for such a gift as a mentor’s attention and time.

Model grace, creativity, and hard work in your leadership, but don’t pretend to be Jesus. Show us what Sabbath looks like. Be honest. Any tips on how to work through a conflict are greatly appreciated. Tell the story of when you botched the funeral, forgot your sermon, or dropped the Cup. Teach us. Learn from us. Collaborate. Encourage risk. Support us when we fail. Share the sacraments and pulpit. Say YES. Listen. Hold us accountable. Most of all, expect the best for the future of our denomination and her churches.

We do.

With Great Hope,

Lori

 

(PS- To my mentors, there are no other words than, Thank You.)

[1] Yaconelli, Mark. www.thehearthstorytelling.wordpress.com

[2] Merritt, Carol Howard. The Christian Century blog. August 23, 2014

[3] PUCSA, research services. Comparative Stats Report, 2012.Pg. 10, Tables 7, 10.

[4] Hodge. The Pew Project. Duke Divinity School. Presented to the Religious Research As. Norfolk, GA. 2003, t.5-11.