Why I won’t be showing my youth group ‘The Passion of The Christ’ this Easter

This morning I accidently flicked toothpaste into my eye. It was stupidly painful and more than a little humiliating. That, however, was not the reason for the toothbrush or the toothpaste – I wanted to clean my teeth! The 2004 Mel Gibson film, The Passion of The Christ – in some odd way – is much like my unfortunate brush with the toothpaste. A significant emphasis on pain and humiliation that largely loses the reason behind the story.

I first watched The Passion of The Christ alone in my brother’s room when I was seventeen. I had a pretty mature Christian faith, and I was plugged into a good youth group. The initial post-movie shock lasted me about three hours. I remember guilt, fear, gratitude, and floods of tears. After that it took over my mental processing for weeks. There were just aspects of it that I couldn’t work out or square away.

On the whole, I believed it was generally a more helpful than unhelpful experience at the time. And that’s the thing – I wouldn’t say that The Passion of The Christ is a bad film, or even – on the whole – unhelpful for a lot of Christians. There are some very precious parts of the film that were handled with real grace and care. The question today, however, is whether we should show it at our youth clubs to groups of 11–18-year-olds? And linked to that question – does it honestly display what really happened to Jesus in those last days of His life?

A youth club staple?

I’m part of an online forum of youth workers who addressed this very question just last week: Should you show The Passion of The Christ at youth clubs? The debate drew very strong opinions from both sides. One person said the film was ‘manipulative and traumatizing’, to which someone else responded ‘you should try the source material sometime.’ Ouch! A parent raised concerns too, saying ‘absolutely not… I have a daughter that would be traumatized.’

Although this was just last week, it is an old debate. The argument usually goes back and forth between, yes show it, it’s important to see with accuracy the pain that Jesus went through; and no, don’t show it, it’s too violent, and it’s inappropriate for young people.

I have sympathy for both of these views. I think it is important to know how much tragic pain, violence, and humiliation the cross inflicted on Jesus, and for young people to be able fit that into their faith language. However, that should be done with 1) accuracy, 2) necessity, and 3) sensitivity as measures. Unfortunately, I think these are all found wanting in The Passion of The Christ.

Accuracy

The Passion of The Christ promotes a myth of accuracy though claiming loyalty to the Bible as its source material and historical meticulousness. There are, however, plenty of accuracy issues in The Passion of The Christ, from the clothes and beards to the languages and customs, to the off-kilter presentation of both the Jews and the Romans, to the reoccurring (and frankly creepy) anthropomorphised images of the devil. Sorry, I’ve got a soft spot for Christian mysticism, but 40 year old baby-Satan was just weird!

There are just far too many details that are inaccurate to take the film as solid history. However, it’s not just a case of ‘if you can’t get the small things right…’ There are also a few much more significant problems. For this post, I’ll focus on just one – and it’s a big one!

The film’s particular and extended image of ‘scourging’ – repeated lashes with something akin to a cat-o-nine tails embedded with pieces of bone or metal – does not come from either the Bible or historical authorities. As archaeologists Berlin and Magness comment ‘there are neither descriptions, pictorial representations, nor physical evidence for the brutal implement that is used at length and to such horrific effect in The Passion’s “scourging” scenes.’[1] In fact, the only implement the Gospels’ mention is a ‘reed’ (Matt. 27:30; Mk. 15:19), and the only example of a weapon anything like what’s displayed in the film is ‘the whip’ used by Jesus to drive people out of the temple (a ‘φραγέλλιον’ in Jn. 2:13 ). This, however, was a collection of leather chords, not a metal-encrusted torture device.

Although the image of a torture weapon with multiple chords and chains and with bone or metal hooks is widely shared in Bible studies and on the internet, in reality there is very little evidence of the Romans using anything like this in the time of Jesus. The closest thing we have from archaeology is a ceremonial instrument carried by pagan priests (which wasn’t used for torture) or a 4th Century ‘plumbate’ whip, which wasn’t around in 1st Century Palestine. It wasn’t really until the 15th or 16th Century that the Church began to speculate on this kind of torture weapon. Our understanding of the ‘cat-o-nine-tails’ scourge is, in reality, an invention of medieval art, not Roman antiquity.

In the film, however, Jesus is lashed, flogged, and scourged across several positions, with several embellished tools, around one-hundred times. If the film is correct, and Jesus was tortured in such an unprecedented and remarkable way – and one that diverges so much from Roman custom – you would have thought that one of the Gospels would have mentioned it?

Going back to the youth workers’ forum I mentioned earlier, one person said, ‘If anything [the film] doesn’t show half of what suffering our savior went through!’ and another, ‘[The] Passion of the Christ doesn’t hold a candle to what actually happened but is the closest thing to it.’ Sorry guys, I appreciate your passion, but if you’re using either the Bible or historical record, then the scourging scene was overdone, exaggerated, and largely fabricated.

This isn’t to make light of Jesus’ flogging. By no means! But it is a matter of focus. Whereas the Gospels focus on the teaching and person of Christ without overly concentrating on his physical pain, The Passion of The Christ completely reverses this emphasis. It dials up the torture to a degree that is indefensible from either historical or biblical evidence – and loses the purpose or person of Jesus behind it. There is accuracy in some of the drama presented, but much of it is heavily embellished.

Necessity

My second issue is contextual balance. Theologically, the film places so much emphasis on the physical, human-flesh suffering, that it loses the eternal battle for souls almost entirely. It’s mostly important that we know that Jesus died for us, and then it’s definitely meaningful to remember that that was an intense and unfair death. But the pain experienced is not the point! When we super-over-hyper focus on any single aspect of the gospel to this extent, we throw the perfect balance of the story out of whack, and we lose the narrative power of the whole.

If you put rocket fuel in Ford Mondeo, you’re not left with a faster, cooler car. What you actually have is a very messy explosion! Even if The Passion of The Christ was mostly an accurate depiction, the severe overemphasis on Jesus’ torture and death without any explanation or context loses the wider story of His incarnation, crucifixion, atonement, resurrection and ascension.

The most glaring issue throughout the two-hour violent depiction of Jesus’ torture and death then, is that at no point does the film address the question why? For what reason did Jesus die? If you’re going to use The Passion of The Christ as an evangelistic tool, then that’s a really significant hole. And considering the intensive emotional state that your young people are going to be in after watching it, are you going to be able to then explain what’s missing? You might get a positive-looking immediate result (“they were speechless!”), but you also might be unpicking it for years to come.

Put another way, if you’re going to justify over-emphasising  gratuitous violence for theological reasons, you’d better make sure your theology is on point. This is especially true if you’re working with vulnerable young people.

Sensitivity

Entertainment Weekly ranked The Passion of The Christ as ‘the most controversial film of all time.’ I’ve heard Christians say this is because the gospel is offensive and divisive, but that’s not the reason the magazine gave. It was ranked this highly because of its extreme depictions of torture and violence. For context, they ranked this ahead of Kubrick’s A Clockwork Orange, a film for which the phrase ‘ultra-violent’ was invented.

The question that comes to focus here then is why do you want to show it to your young people in the first place? Because of the extreme violence and gore, it’s an 18-Rated (R in America) film that has been deemed unsuitable for younger audiences. This means you would need a very good reason to show it to them. If that reason isn’t accuracy or necessity, then what do you have left? My fear is that it stylises Jesus in such a way that invokes a response – and if we were really honest, that’s why we show it.

Even in a teenage world of ‘Call of Duty’, ‘The Hunger Games’, and ‘Game of Thrones’ our responsibility to safeguard the development of our children should not be dialled down. Even if they are exposed to violence in the media, it is not an excuse for us to jump on the same bandwagon and attempt to disciple them pastorally by exaggerating the violence of our own tradition. While a wide range of gruesome violence exists in the Bible, taking in a movie laden with visual effects and featuring real actors is an entirely different experience.

Coming back to the true cross

We must teach Jesus and we must teach the cross. There is nothing more essential for us to do! But let’s begin and end with the real Jesus and draw them to the cross of the Bible. It’s there where true power is found, and a lifetime of passion is fuelled.

The cross was a violent, gruesome, humiliating, and unfair treatment of our saviour. It was an incredible amount of suffering! However, we do not need to embellish the details, bypass the facts, ignore the theology, or neglect context to tell this story. It’s important that we share the fullness of who Jesus truly is.

Good youth work doesn’t rely on easy wins. Rather than depending on these intensive (and insensitive) ‘jumpstart’ moments, let’s instead do the real work of building relationships with young people that will draw them close to Jesus with integrity, love, and longevity – rather than guilt, fear, and confusion.

It’s not a terrible film, and some of it I really value, but I won’t be showing it to my teenagers this Easter.

 

[1] A. Berlin & J. Magness (2004), Two Archaeologists Comment on The Passion of the Christ. The Archaeological Institute of America. Available at: https://www.archaeological.org/pdfs/papers/Comments_on_The_Passion.pdf

 

Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

Why youth workers sometimes need to switch off

I have a cat. At most levels she is a normal, run-of-the-mill cat. White, fluffy, purry – the whole cat-esq shebang. But she harbours a dark secret – and that is she’s a psychotic lunatic freak with macabre pastimes and dangerous hobbies.

Let me explain. Luna (the cat) hunts mice. Normal enough, right? However, Luna can bring home (and eat) seven mice a day… that we know of. If that wasn’t bad enough, she doesn’t eat the whole mouse. She eats everything but the head, which she likes to leave on our doorstep. I assume as a warning to other mice – or just as a talking point for the postman.

Luna also loves to play with string. Again, normal right? But Luna will purposely spin in a circle chasing string over and over and over again, until she becomes so dizzy, that she stumbles around drunk, and then promptly falls over.

Youth workers can be just like my cat!

Through one lens we can look exactly like every other youth worker. We play games, we teach using creative object lessons, we wear ripped jeans, and we grow soul patches. We look like we’re doing this thing ‘normally.’ But under the surface, many youth workers – including at times, myself, are self-destructive, narcissistic, people-pleasing, terrified-of-our-own-shadow nightmares!

We have to be doing stuff – constantly. Stopping and considering or even appreciating is rarely on the cards. If there’s space, we have to fill it: An empty room? Run around throwing loo roll! A quiet space? Yell loudly! A sparse calendar. Fill it entirely!

Is this you? Then you’re running hot – and you’re gonna blow!

Some of this is certainly fear-driven. We get fearful that people aren’t having a good time, or fearful that the pastor isn’t happy with our job performance, etc. Fear is a huge motivator. I think there’s another reason though and that is that we just don’t know any better.

The self-perpetuating model of youth worker burnout

Most youth work in the UK is done by volunteers, and the large majority of paid youth workers have had no formal training. For most of us, we learned youth work from ‘the guy who went before.’ What I mean by this is that many youth workers learned youth work from their youth worker – with some tips picked up from festival and event youth workers along the way.

So, if these youth workers were ‘always on’ then we’re probably just perpetuating the same poor practice. More likely, however, we only ever witnessed them in full-on youth worker mode at projects, and then assumed ‘that’s just what being a youth worker looks like.’

Then there’s a theological reason too. Since the late 1940s we’ve been reading books and attending seminars telling us that as ‘incarnational youth workers’ we’re supposed to always be on. Our door should always be open, our phone always switched on, and young people should feel free to demand our energy whenever they feel like it.

Since this time, however, and especially since the 1980s, it’s been really hard to convince youth workers to stick around for very long. Very rarely will a youth worker work beyond one contract before moving on to something else. All of the youth workers I knew from growing up are not youth workers anymore.

There’s a lot of reasons for that, but I believe there’s more than just a subtle corelation between overexertion in youth work, and time spent in youth work.

So, switching off?

Why do you need to switch off? Because you will burn out if you don’t. We know this, but we don’t really know it.

We don’t really know the importance of regular, consistent days off.

We don’t really know the importance of booking and taking holidays.

We don’t really know the importance of switching off notifications.

We don’t really know the importance of hobbies, friends, and activities away from youth work.

Those who work these things out (and so do know) are those who keep going! But even they still need occasional reminding. There are others who know the importance of these things too though, and that’s those who have already burned out.

I could have phrased it ‘we don’t really know the consequences of not…’ Consequences on our health, our marriage, our kids, our sleep, our friendships, our hairlines, or even our job effectiveness. Exertion in does not mean quality out.

So, let me just end there – using a language we can all get:

Youth workers sometimes need to switch off because they won’t be very good at youthwork if they don’t.

Food for thought.

 

Photo by Isabella and Louisa Fischer on Unsplash

Working with visiting speakers – 9 tips

Over the past twelve months I’ve been on both sides of the visiting speaker divide. I’ve been touring my book, and running events that needed outside help.

Some churches have policies and budgets for speakers, but in youth work land, we easily neglect these in the wake of enthusiasm and last minute planning! I’ve had some truly wonderful, and some frankly weird encounters as a visiting speaker, so I thought I would share some top tips and little stories to help you get the most out of your visiting speaker.

1. Do your homework

Don’t just go for the biggest names as it’ll cost your whole budget, and they might not actually be the best voice for your groups. You could even end up compromising  ideal dates and venues to fit their busy schedules. You should look instead for what a speaker values; ask for feedback and listen to some of their recordings. Match the speaker to the people they are speaking to, not the topic.

I was asked at one event last year to talk about inner city ministry to disadvantaged urban teenagers from ethnic minorities. I winged it but there are so many people more qualified than me to talk on this topic.

2. Show your working

When sending an invitation to a speaker, specifically point to why you have asked for them. Share what traits they have displayed, or topics they have spoken on which you think will find synergy with your group. This is not about flattery (although it couldn’t hurt, right?), it’s about starting a conversation on the right track.

I’ve had people ask me to speak purely because they know I’ve written a book – but had no idea what the book was about. This proved awkward when the theory of youth work I proposed was dramatically different to events I was asked to speak at. Whoops!

3. Clearly communicate

Most visiting speakers are in some kind of full-time ministry, thus will have an ongoing calendar to juggle. For me that means I really appreciate a few months (not weeks or days) notice, and will want a reasonable picture of I’m speaking to, and for how long. Don’t just drop a speaker into a context they wouldn’t normally work with without very clearly defined and properly communicated expectations.

At another stop last year I was given forty minutes to talk, however, twenty-five minutes in it was clear that the room was confused and restless. Apparently fifteen minutes was the usual length but the person who mediated my visit wasn’t a regular at this service and hadn’t checked!

4. Give value

Use a speaker for what they are good at and are passionate about. They shouldn’t feel like a spare part or just another volunteer. Make sure it’s worth their time.

A vocational speaker puts a lot of heart, effort, and personal energy into a talk, and it’s harder for them because they don’t know the people they’re speaking to. Make sure they know that they have been used specifically, and picked with careful intention.

5. Decide on remuneration

This should at least cover expenses for travel and board, but it’s also important to consider a financial gift for their time. If I’m speaking for 30 minutes then I’ll probably put 5-8 hours total work into it. With this in mind when I’m running an event, I try to delegate 15-35% of the budget for speakers.

Some speakers have more established expectations than others. it’s better to ask in a frank and clear way early on – but with the attitude of wanting to bless, not wanting to save.

Note: If you plan on recording their talk and selling material with it in afterwards, then you need to get their permission to do so and factor that into your gift. I’m always frustrated when I discover a talk I gave is being sold when I didn’t even know I had been recorded!

6. Be realistic with your expectations

If your event starts at 6pm, don’t ask your speaker to be there with the setup team at 3pm to ‘meet people.’ If you want them to meet people then put on a dinner beforehand. There’s nothing more awkward for a speaker than wandering around a hall, trying to find ways to be useful (or just stay out of the way) for 90 minutes while it all gets set up. This is time your speaker would rather have been with their family.

With this comes realism and honesty. I attended several events last year where I was assured a large number of people, but only a handful would actually make it. 10 and 100 people are very different things. I would still have spoken at these events, but I would have changed my approach or format if I knew beforehand.

7. Ask for their requirements

Sound, projection, computers, adapters, tables, pens, seating arrangements, or helpers to hand things out are all helpful to discuss before a speaker arrives. I can’t tell you the amount of times I’ve arrived somewhere that didn’t have even a music stand for my notes. A speaker shouldn’t dictate the shape of your event, but you should talk clearly about what is available and how they usually work.

8. Say thank you

It’s important to value your speaker. You can give some helpful feedback, but mostly show your gratitude for their work. Visiting speakers are professionals so they can work with feedback and understand that people have different needs.

I try and give the ‘triple whammy’ of thanks: First, say thank you in the event publicly, which gives the whole group an opportunity to be a part of it. Second, say thank you to them personally, as the event organiser, when walking them to their car or dropping them off at the train station. Third, say thank you a day or two later, over email, highlighting the specific ways you think it was useful to the audience.

9. Don’t let them be a diva

You should value your speaker, but if you have given clear expectations in a timely fashion, then you should expect them to work within those parameters. You can’t change the shape of your whole event to fit them, and you can’t throw out your theology play book to accommodate something they’re playing with at the moment.

I once worked with a visiting speaker who was given 20 minutes, but spoke for almost an hour (mostly crying), until we interrupted and moved him off stage.

A speaker should ideally be there for the whole session to settle in well, understand the vibe, and talk to people afterwards. They shouldn’t nip out the back when their bit is over. Be clear and upfront, and hold them to the expectations you have agreed on.

 

Is preaching the most effective method to teach teenagers?

Most of what I remember of my youth pastor from being a teenager his him giving talks. He and his small team would take it in turns to deliver the message each Sunday night. Some of these we would look forward to more than others because they would be funny or moving or poignant. Others, however, would just be boring or self-serving – thirty minutes to just get through before music and games.

The concept, however, was clear: teaching and authority is delivered from the front of the room.

Today I’m in a similar position. I deliver talks to my young people. I also give assemblies in schools, and a lot of my projects have that upfront teaching aspect to them. I have however, dialled back on upfront speaking as my main teaching style, and I’ve embraced more conversation, mentoring, group discussion, active service, briefing and briefing, Q&A, and try-and-see methods.

I’m going to briefly discuss some of the reasons I have come to that decision.

The de facto approach

I recently read a poll on a youth ministry Facebook page comparing the most effective methods of teaching teenagers. Of the 100+ full-time youth pastors that responded, well over half said that up front preaching is still the most effective method of teaching young people today. I was pretty surprised.

In the comments I suggested that the reason we think it is the most effective is that it tends to be the teaching method that we’re best at delivering, and the one we have the most experience with. We might be, therefore, measuring it’s effectiveness by how good we are at it, rather than how much our young people retain and apply.

Like me, many youth pastors grew up watching their own youth pastors preach and speak from the front. They possibly even graduated into volunteer youth ministry by doing some talks. At Bible College they started to learn how to public speak better, and they began finding their favourite YouTube preachers. Upfront speaking is what we know.

This de facto approach is highly practical, in that we don’t have to respond to the unknown and the spontaneous. It’s constructive, in that we can plan it meticulously and feed it into the context of teaching throughout a term. It’s safe, in that it is tidy and keeps surprises to a minimum. It’s also ego-stroking, in that it gives us the opportunity to make teenagers like us.

Does it work?

This might be the $1 million question. We can probably all think back to talks that had a big impact on our Christian walks. We can remember talks when great swaths of young people stood up to follow Jesus at the end. This might be why talks are still the main – if not the only – teaching method used at youth events and conferences.

But here’s another question: How many talks can you actually remember?

By remember I mean can you piece together the main point of a talk with all the moving parts it took to get there? Can you remember the three points and the applications? Can you remember the unpacked exegesis and the contexts they sat in? How many talks can you remember like that from probably the hundreds, if not thousands, that you have heard? What’s your retention and application percentage? Does that ratio feel like good stewardship?

If you’re a note taker then retention and application might be easier, or – if like me – you tend to plagarise other speakers anecdotes, then you might remember more – but even then some work has to be done in other teaching/learning styles before you get there.

American educational theorist, Edgar Dale, famously published what’s called the Cone of Learning, where he placed retention percentages alongside different learning methods.

Dale said, for instance, that the best way to learn something is actually to teach it to others, and if we can’t do that then we should emphasise discussion and practice over simply reading and listening. What was most shocking, however, was he said that the ‘lecture style’ or upfront speaking was by far the least effective method of teaching. He said humans tend to only retain 5% of a talk 24 hours later.

Dale’s ideas are certainly not watertight, and educational theory has come a long way since. But even if it’s just half true, we need to consider how effective our upfront speaking-heavy teaching methods truly are.

Is it biblical?

Now this is interesting because at first glance public speaking seems to be the main teaching method in the Bible. However, a deeper examination will reveal that this is just not correct.

The Patriarchs, Judges and Kings sometimes spoke to large groups, but more often we see them speaking to individuals or other leaders. Prophets spoke to crowds sometimes, but more often spoke to rulers, councils or individuals. There are other times when Kings and Prophets spoke to the whole nation of Israel, however, this tended to be to lead them in worship or prayer rather than teaching.

Some version of upfront speaking happened in smaller circumstances, like the head of a household telling an ancient story to his family, but that happened over a worship feast that they all joined in as part of the ritual.

In the New Testament Jesus is frequently mis-described as a crowd teacher and preacher. But this is actually a very rare occurrence. He does speak in the synagogues, but when He does this from the front it is almost exclusively limited to the reading of the Torah (with a cheeky sentence of personal commentary thrown in), and when in the outer courts, He tends to be answering questions and discussing with small groups of people in turn (like most Rabbis would).

Even classics like the Sermon on the Mount, or the Sermon on a Plain were focused times of teaching the disciples with a crowd ‘listening in’ rather than taught directly. In fact, almost all of Jesus’ recorded teaching happens in small groups and with individuals. The biblical Jesus is just not a crowd teacher or public speaker.

The book of Acts is probably the most interesting because proclamation was almost exclusively reserved for groups of unbelievers, whereas teaching through conversation and discussion were most commonly practiced with groups of already confessing believers. This is clearer in the Greek, but still we do this backwards don’t we?

Proclamation and preaching are certainly biblical practices, but they are by no means the exclusive, de facto, most effective, or even most usual method of teaching employed throughout the Scriptures. Upfront speaking was mostly reserved for the pubic reading of scripture or the corporate leading of worship.

Preaching as we know it today is largely a remnant of Christendom, rescued somewhat by the Reformation, helped along by the Edwardian era, but stunted by the Victorian Church, and then intellectualised by the Enlightenment. We need to look deeper and further to teach better.

So what else is there?

Allowing the Bible to speak with room for the Holy Spirit to interpret and apply should be the most important aspect of our teaching. The Bible historically been a conversant book, one read in community not just alone in isolation.

I favour facilitated Bible discussion, where a leader knows the passage well and has maturity to teach, but the content is discussed and then applied by the wider group. Truth is facilitated, and the discovery of the ‘true path’ is led by figures with the experience of mountain guides. They don’t do the hiking for them!

Having an experienced, mature, and trained pastor figure in the room safeguards against discussions dissolving into relativistic chaos, and they draws threads together helpfully without superimposing an unnecessary or tightly constricting agenda upon God’s Word in the gathering. This also keeps teacher-accountability on the table with the Bible.

This approach also opens up the importance of student participation in teaching, of mentoring, actual practice, abstract thinking, conversation, Q&A, try-and-see, briefing and debriefing, and open-ended discussion.

Proclamation is great! Public speaking is one of the key parts of my vocation and one of the things I’m best at. This does not mean, however, that it is the only, or even the best way that God can use me, or that speaking is the most effective way of teaching the people that God has put under my care.

We need to widen the net, broaden our skills, and embrace a bigger field of teaching methods, and we can do this without losing our biblical compass. The plans, character, heart, and purposes of God in our communities is big enough to warrant stepping out of our teaching-style comfort zones. Let’s get on it!

 

Is our language becoming idiographic again? Communicating with emoticon culture.

I’m currently sat in a little café just outside of Mullsjö in Sweden, trying to send a text message to a local. Try as I might, however, my indoctrinated little British phone just can’t do it! The message icon keeps flashing up with a little “!”. Clearly this means ‘something is wrong, and this hasn’t worked’. When I click that icon, another pops up, an unfinished circle with an arrowhead which clearly tells me, ‘click here to retry.’

It strikes me that this must part of my phone’s latest update, because when this happened to me last year in Norway (name dropping the Nordic countries!), it said ‘message failed’, rather than “!” and ‘retry to send’, rather than the little circle arrow.

I know instinctively, however, what these little phone icons mean. They appear everywhere in my everyday digital world. Sometimes, when cooking I look for that same ‘retry’ button in real life… usually shortly after realising my stove doesn’t have an ‘undo’ button.

In a Western world of emoticons, glyphs, and symbols, icons are becoming a far more regular part of everyday life.

It’s not like we didn’t use symbols before. The well-dressed silhouetted people on doors tell us where to pee, and £, € and $ signs tell us that we’re about to spend money. These, however, represent top-down imposed and generationally broad ideas that have been widely used for quite a while. This new generation of icons which we communicate with, however, are growing right out of the beating heart of youth culture – driven by the consumer habits of the populous. Vox populi vox dei!

A youth language revolution

Is it possible that our young people are actually shaping the biggest change in our language since the beginning of the last century?

It’s as if young people (by whom I’m talking about late millennials and the digital natives of Gen Z) are leading a somewhat natural evolution of language right before our very eyes.

Idiographic vs. alphabetic languages

When I lived in London I decided to try and learn ancient Assyrian. Why? Kicks and giggles, I guess. Needless to say, I didn’t get very far.

Assyrians used a system called cuneiform to write words. Cuneiform is a nifty system of pressing wedge-shaped lines into soft clay before it hardens. In the earliest forms of cuneiform, the lines actually made recognisable pictures to represent a clear idea of what was happening. So, a picture of a face could mean ‘speak’ or ‘eat’. A picture of fire could mean ‘hot’ or ‘cook’. The picture gave you an idea to interpret into meaning, which is what’s known as idiographic language. Eventually these pictures became simpler, and finally just the most basic outlines of the picture remained as the beginnings of an alphabet. Basically, what they had were emoticons; ideas that – correctly interpreted in context – conveyed meaning.

What cuneiform and other idiographic languages did was to create simple ways of recording and communicating. In contrast, our later alphabetic languages are far more complex and can groan under the weight of their own convolutions. In ideographic languages, not a lot of detail or embellishment was given or was even needed. It would just have taken too long as the clay would have dried out before we got through a sentence!

Because of the simplicity, context was always really important and without knowing the people who were writing, it would have been easy to misunderstand what was being said. You needed a greater personal connection between the reader and the writer, and the readers had to be interpreters first.

Sound familiar?

The rise of the emoticon from youth culture

Last week Archbishop Justin Welby tweeted the entire Lord’s Prayer using nothing but emoticons. Hacker Noon wrote a post on exactly how to communicate using nothing but emoticons, and Psychologist World recently published on the emotional benefits of communicating with emoticons.

Icon-driven, or idiographic language is freshly becoming part of our everyday communication again, and this neat change is being driven by the chief digital consumer: young people.

Almost all of our work with young people relies on communication. From advertising events, forming communities, establishing order, sharing Jesus through the Bible, talks, videos and creativity. Communication is at the core of what we do.

Communication that assumes interpretation

I wouldn’t suggest for one moment that we switch to an emoticon-driven language, but I’d implore us to be more aware of the internal processes of young people when receiving our communications.

Young people are not just being lazy or simplicitic; there are layers of interpretation going on in how they communicate through icons. Just like an hour glass, large ideas are being funnelled thorough deceptively simple iconography, then opened out again though individual processing.

This makes young people incredibly interpretive of ideas that come out from communication – more so than in other recent generations. It would be a mistake, therefore, to assume that simplified methods of communication – such as emoticons or icons – means simplified translation, reception, or interpretation of language.

Interpretation of a simple idea to a complex one is now native to our young people’s everyday language. This means it’s potentially easier for them to misunderstand because most of our communication goes the other way: We translate complex ideas into simplified ones.

Much of our teaching is making Gospel stories and big ideas digestible, but the simplified end point might then be read, deconstructed, then reconstructed by a young person naturally and immediately into something totally different, leaving us confused: But we were so clear and simple – how did they get that out of what I said?

Starting to move with the evolution of language

When you read a list of emoticons, you have to understand the person speaking, the context it applies to, and then make some quick interpretive choices as to what’s being said. Young people do that at an alarmingly natural pace. It’s as if their brains are actually changing shape around their everyday language habits. If we keep on communicating without this awareness we are going to be left behind.

There are sometimes, therefore, when we will need to say what we mean without embellishment, metaphor, or story. We might need to be let our teaching and discussions to become much more complex, allowing for the interaction of more complex themes.

There are other times where we’re better probably communicating through questions, rather than just making propositional teaching points. We also shouldn’t assume that our classic talk structures – including three stories, two metaphors, one video, and two application points – will necessarily connect into one big idea for the young people without an overtly clear lead for that.

I think this also gives us amazing new opportunities to have much more complex conversations after the initial round of communication. Now that young people are more naturally making interpretative links, we can have longer and deeper discussions as an overflow of their own immediate internal cognitive processing of language. Internal critical thinking may be the surprising but very welcome manifestation of this change.

Finally, adding the pictorial element to modern language engages different parts of many young people’s brains than traditional prose might do on its own. This could create easier ways to be creative with young people, and should provide for much more effective ways of moving head knowledge to heart knowledge.

Language really is everything. Side-line it at our peril, yet exploring its evolutions with our young people can yield amazing fruit.

I’d love to hear about how you are engaging the natural, daily heart languages of young people to share the message of Jesus with them. Comment, or drop me a line! Thanks 😀

How to develop a healthy team culture – on the IVP blog

This was first published on the IVP blog

One of the most memorable fairy tales from my childhood was ‘the princess and the pea’. The way I remember the story, an overly-entitled bratty millennial princess couldn’t get comfy enough to fall asleep, and so her wealthy, avocado-farming parents called upon every dashing bloke in her kingdom to fix it.

They tried specialised ear-plugs, whale song, white noise machines, hypnosis, and even narcotic massages. Eventually, however, they resorted to dumping her on a huge pile of old mattresses. The problem came to light when they discovered a tiny pea under her sheets. #middleclassproblems

An unhealthy team culture is very much like that pea. In the vastly rich landscape of leadership dynamics, the culture (that’s the tone or the mood) of a team may seem tiny and insignificant, and yet – left unaddressed – it will leave you awkward and unsettled. When projects aren’t working, you can almost always trace source of the problem back to an unhealthy team culture. Whatever else you try to fix in your leadership style or projects, the pea will remain an issue until you tackle it directly.

What is team culture?

Team culture is basically how the team ‘feels’ to be part of. What does it mean to belong to that team? What are the banter levels, how included do you feel, how easy is it to raise objections or provide ideas? All of this is subversively managed by the team culture. Some kind of culture will always develop in a team, the question is whether that culture will be healthy, and if it will genuinely serve the people involved.

Some team cultures are highly collaborative, with lots of opportunities given to develop ideas together. Others are more authoritarian, with a superhero leader driving the motivation. Some team cultures place a high value on initiative, giving each person a spot in the driving seat, whereas others place a high value on compliance, making sure everyone is pulling in the same direction without mismanaging resources. There is no ‘globally ideal’ culture, only the best fitting culture for the needs of a given context.

When a team culture works, you find much greater synergy between members, conflict resolution will be more natural, recruitment will be easier, and – for want of a better way of putting it – it will just ‘feel’ better. People need to belong in order to commit, and it’s much easier to belong in a healthy team than an unhealthy one.

When a team culture doesn’t work, the resulting traits include lethargy, apathy, a revolving door or short-term volunteers, an undercurrent of gossip, and possibly even safeguarding risks.

Starting to steer the health of culture

Team culture is organic rather than mechanical, which means it needs growing rather than building. Thus, intentionally cultivating a healthy and functional team culture should take real time and genuine patience. However, here are a few ideas to begin to steer the ship into the wind, and get your team culture going in a healthy, direction:

1. Communicate better

Volunteers need information in four main areas: what’s happening when and where; what’s expected of me; what’s the overarching purpose; and what’s the plan for my development? It’s your job to provide answers to these in a flow of communication that is clear without being bombarding. Consider the frequency of communication carefully, and gear the methods towards the people involved, not just your favourite app!

2. Resolve conflicts

Ignored conflicts don’t go away and dominating in conflicts creates stalemates. Learn healthy methods of conflict resolution and deal with problems appropriately, amicably and quickly.

3. Supervise

Find time to meet individually with each team member a few times a year over coffee. Ask direct questions about their struggles and fears, show specifically where they add value, and make a plan for their growth.

4. Train

A regular expectation for training helps team members stay teachable, while giving you a platform to directly address weaknesses in the projects.

5. Let socials be socials

It’s great to get together as team socially, but these pizza nights and bowling tournaments should be free from business. Don’t mix them with strategy meetings and use the time to informally propagate healthy relationships. When socials remain social, you should be able to more clearly define the purpose of your other meetings and stick to your agendas with greater focus.

6. Run briefings

Briefing for fifteen minutes before a project and debriefing afterwards can provide a weekly project with twenty-five hours of carefully facilitated team training and conversation a year. A quick check on who is doing what, how things went, and whether there any things that need to be watched out for provides both security for the team and objectivity for the projects.

7. Say thank you

Small cards, gifts, and quiet affirming conversations go a long way, as do annual public acknowledgments and prizes. Your team are valuable – make sure they know it!

Setting the tone for a healthy culture

All of these tips rely on you approaching your leadership position with your game face on. If you come to projects and meetings with a bad attitude, poor preparation, or a wildly different set of expectations for your team than they have, then it will bleed through like chocolate ice-cream in a sock. If your attitude stinks, so will your team culture.

It’s important to be authentic and genuine, but equally important to take your role as leader seriously. Be a servant, learn active listening, stay teachable, work hard, and trust Jesus. The rest will follow, and your team culture will thrive.

Responding to The Game of Thrones Debate

Game of Thrones. Is it the gloves off, gruesome, grim and gristly opiate for the masses – or the fantastical story that grapples with the true complexities of human experience? Is it right for a Christian to watch it for entertainment, or perhaps missional research – or should they steer clear of it all-together?

Could this be a random cracking of the whip? Like Sabrina prompted last year, Deadpool three years ago, or Harry Potter ten plus years ago? It’s topics like these which become convergence points of fixation from both the heavy-grace (everything is permissible!) and heavy-law (not everything is beneficial!) extremes of the evangelical wings.

These debates create new heroes and villains, they scratch some deep itches, and they rehash the prohibition controversies from our protestant histories. They can also be quite sad.

We do love a good ‘what should we eat, drink, wear, watch, play, read, listen-to’ dispute, don’t we? I wonder if we would just get bored without them – what would we do without a pointy wedge issue on what we should consume? Paul said, ‘do not let anyone judge you by what you eat or drink’ (Col. 2:16), and Jesus said, ‘do not be anxious… is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes?’ (Mt. 6:25). It’s almost as if they knew, go figure.

Without these debates, we might have to actually talk about Jesus more directly, which oddly makes us squirm just a little more than is entirely decent.

The gauntlet

A few weeks ago, British Youth for Christ National Director Neil O’Boyle wrote a post on relativism and our media consumption titled ‘why youth workers shouldn’t be watching Game of Thrones’ (GoT). The big take away was to respect the enormous amount of responsibility that comes when leading young people. It’s all too easy for them to take our actions as their permissions.

That’s a hard-hitting challenge that needs to be grappled with at every level of leadership. That’s the responsibility that any parent or leading adult has for the development of young people. Neil said:

‘I’m sure by now I have jarred you. I didn’t mean to. I guess all I’m asking as influencers and culture setters is: Are we inconsistent? And are our inconsistencies unhelpful to a younger person’s walk with Jesus?’

Even if we’re someone who likes to binge-watch Baywatch while chain-smoking – tell me we heard that? We want to fiercely pursue holiness and invite young people to join us on that journey, even if it means giving up something that we like. What Christian among us really wants to challenge this idea – isn’t sacrifice and humility at the very centre of our faith after all?

Cards on the table – I know Neil. I’m one of the 50-80 youth workers he mentioned in that article that benefits directly from his rich experience and considered example. Full disclosure: I think Neil is a ledge.

Sure, Neil’s article didn’t solidly settle in too many places. It was, after all, a gentle challenge on a hugely sticky topic. I’m suspicious that the title was actually an editorial addition, rather than Neil’s original? (Correct me if I’m wrong, Emily!). I think this is really unfortunate as that title colours the whole post, and it changes the way it reads – especially if you already have a strong opinion on the show.

The reaction

In response, Youth and Student Pastor, Alan Gault essentially wrote what is known in journalism as ‘a takedown piece’ in order to counter Neil’s view. It was a little blunt. If all I had got to go on was the tone of the two pieces, then I’d warm to Neil’s and recoil from Alan’s. The real issue though is that Alan’s article didn’t grapple with that central gut-hitting challenge from Neil about our inconsistency.

Instead, Alan reached around Neil, and clung to the title ‘why a Christian shouldn’t…’ Alan said, ‘I find the majority of reasons given by Neil to have their own problems and I find his blanket ban unnecessary.’ Which reasons and what ban? Other than the title, GoT is only mentioned once in Neil’s article, and just as an example of a much wider issue.

Alan battled a monstrous, legislative ‘They’, and caricatured Neil (as representing this force) as putting down a ‘blanket ban’ rather than carefully considering what he really wrote.

Relativism is a cultural phenomenon which goes far beyond simple moral subjectivity. Neil was calling us to consider our example to those we lead in the middle of such a vulnerable and uncertain culture. This wasn’t legislative, it was, however, a deliberate challenge.

I believe that Alan wrote a reaction to a strawman, rather than a response to an idea. It may have galvanised the GoT-loving side of the fence, and rattled those who abstain, but I don’t think it promoted any real dialogue outside the respective echo chambers.

As Christians we need to talk and listen to each other with generosity. Without this there’s no edification or building one another up in Christ happening at all. Before we get to the content then, let’s start with respecting that we’ll know each other in heaven, and disagreements should come with brotherly affection.

The thing behind the thing

What’s a shame about this is that I think Alan was on to something. Once you concede he wasn’t really responding to Neil, there were some real nuggets of gold in his post.

Alan was trying to make us think about grace. We can’t legislate people into the Kingdom, nor can we set strict universal boundaries over our growth – especially when triggers may be very different for different people. Alan reminded us about the wildly varied contexts that are involved in individual walks, the complexities of messy lives, and the primacy of the promptings of the Holy Spirit in the changing of those lives. He encouraged us to think upon the Jesus who hung out with the dregs of society. Fab! This too deserves to be grappled with, and I imagine Neil would heartily nod along with all of these things.

If Alan focused on these pieces and wrote that post convincingly, I think it might have added to the conversation here – and iron would have had a chance to sharpen iron. He didn’t, however, and it hasn’t.

What was the problem?

For me, the main issue is I think Alan’s post accidentally cheapened the Bible in favour of entertainment. I’m sure he’d be horrified that I thought that but let me explain.

Alan identified passages in the Bible that contain explicit and graphic sex and violence. He said we shouldn’t, therefore, use sex and violence alone as a reason not to watch similar content in GoT. Some of these passages were implied rather than graphic (Noah and his son from Gen. 9:18-27), and others were metaphoric rather than explicit (Song of Songs throughout). None of them were qualified or discussed and all of them needed to be given in context.

If I was marking Alan’s post as an undergrad theology paper (which it wasn’t), then I would push him quite hard on proof-texting. He selected a group of somewhat random passages that contain what he said was gratuitous sex and violence and then presented them together with false cohesion.

Ek. 23:20, for instance, needs to be read in light of Ek. 14-23: The storyline is the adulterous woman (Israel) and the lover (God) against adulterous lovers (other nations), the issue being idolatry and worship (23:49). Song of Solomon is a dramatic and intimate exploration of the love of God and the worship of His people. The Conquering of Canaan sits in a context of God’s promises to Moses and Abraham, against idol-worshipping pagan nations. The David and Bathsheba story needs to be approached in tension with Ps. 51 and 2 Sam. 12. All of these passages need to be read while keeping the Bible’s full perspective of heaven and redemption in mind. This is the unique worldview of the Bible lived out in the person of Jesus who we aspire to in all our choices today. This is not the general worldview of TV.

You can’t, therefore, just pluck stories out of the Bible for containing similar ideas, ignore the original contexts, group them together indiscriminately, and then present them as a whole to justify today’s consumption choices. That’s hermeneutically naughty! *Slaps wrist.*

Then there’s the logical issue with the argument.

Even if we grant the premise (the Bible is full of [unqualified] stories of gratuitous sex and violence), the conclusion doesn’t then follow.

I once had a young person use exactly this same argument including some of the very same Bible references to explain why it was ok for him to watch pornography. This is unfortunately what happens when you draw too straight a line between two very different things like the Bible and TV. Philosophers call this the fallacy of false equivalence.

For the argument to work as presented, we would need to assume that reading and viewing are the same thing and that both would affect people in the same way. We would need to assume the acts of sex and violence are treated in the same way in both the Bible and GoT and then assume that Paul’s call to purity (Eph. 5:3) along with Jesus’ call to holiness (Mt. 5:28) doesn’t directly apply to those racy and brutal Bible stories. Putting that another way, we would need to isolate those verses from the wider voice of the Bible. We would probably need to assume that there’s no real distinction between art and history as well. Mostly though, I think we would need to assume that both the Bible and GoT were made by the same type of creator with the same kind of purpose.

The issue here is not elevating GoT to the same place as the Bible, but rather depreciating the Bible to be comparable with GoT. This is the Word of God – it’s not just another piece of media. They are simply not comparable.

Sex and violence in the Bible are not enough to warrant viewing sex and violence for entertainment today.

Isn’t everything permissible?

Alan misquoted 1 Cor. 6 as saying ‘everything is permissible, but not everything is helpful.’ We can’t get at him too much, however, because almost everyone misquotes Paul here! What’s missing is the quote marks, but oh boy do they make a difference.

Paul is playing devil’s advocate by slightly sarcastically pseudo-quoting his Corinthian reader saying ‘hey, but I’m saved by grace, so I can do whatev, right? Who are you to tell me no?’

The examples Paul gives for this are cheating someone (v.7, 10), wrongdoing (9), sexual immorality and promiscuity (9, 18-20), stealing, getting drunk, and mocking (10). Because of these things church members were taking legal action against each other (1-6) and the terrible result was increasing division (vv.1-6, 7, 14-16).

On one side of the division there was a misapplication of grace and on the other a misapplication of law. Paul was directly addressing the issues on the first side in the beginning of his pseudo-quote, ‘everything is permissible’. It might just as well read, ‘Hey, I can steal, get drunk, and mock people, right? Who are you to tell me no?’

Alan said ‘is watching Game of Thrones permissible? Yes! Is it helpful? That is for you to figure out’. Is that a legitimate way of using this passage? Only as much as saying something like ‘is murder permissible? Yes! Is it helpful?’ A murderer isn’t barred from the Kingdom of God, but that doesn’t mean crack on.

Using a devil’s advocate quote of Paul as a propositional way for us to measure our consumption choices is altogether the opposite of what Paul was trying to do.

Yes, it’s about grace, but it’s about holiness too. The word ‘helpful’ here (συμφέρει) is exactly the same word used by Jesus in Matt. 5:29 when he tells us that it’s better (more helpful) to pluck out our eyes and cut off our hands if they could possibly cause us to sin. Thinking about Neil’s original post, it’s also the same word used in Matt. 18:6, when Jesus said it would be better (more helpful) for us to be drowned than cause a ‘little one’ to sin.

And there’s the point. What standard do we set for holiness, and what things will we sacrifice for it? Is it permissible? Sure – in the broadest possible way in that it won’t block the gate to heaven. But does it ultimately bring glory to God, unity to His church, and provide a consistent standard to His children? Do our actions – including what we watch on TV – bring the waveforms of our hearts more in line with God’s, or do they clash? Do our habits resonate with or detract from the strength and clarity of our full-throated pursuit of worship? This is the truer reading of 1 Cor. 6.

So…. can a Christian watch GoT?

I wouldn’t and I don’t. I know my issues and my temptations and by spending two minutes on IMDB Parent’s Guide I decided that it wouldn’t be good for me. I love fantastical fiction, but I decided to take a pass on this. My wife, however, is a whole other person and – although she doesn’t watch it either – her own set of triggers and values would be different to mine and these would inform her differently too. I don’t want to be overly prescriptive, therefore, although I would take some convincing that watching GoT would be actively helpful for a Christian’s walk with God. I certainly wouldn’t recommend it to anyone legally too young to watch it, which would be most of my young people.

I don’t imagine it’s an easy watch for a Christian, or a helpful watch for pursuing purity, although I concede it’s probably entertaining and interesting. I think it’s always worth asking the question: can I worship God with this? I think, in fact, that there are a few much better questions to ask than ‘should you’? (You can read an old article of mine on ChurchLeaders about this here), and we could converse together over this and other topics much better than we do.

As British Telecom famously said: It’s good to talk.

 

So you’re a bold speaking warrior for truth eh?

Tribalism is synonymous with Western Church culture. Since the early schisms, through to the modern-day denominations and networks, believers ‘of every stripe’ rally to Paul, Peter, or Apollos (1 Cor. 1:12).

I remember being a teenager, sat with my vicar in his house trying to convince him to write a reference for me to go to an American seminary. He eventually did, but not until he treated me to a detailed list of all the peripheral things that he didn’t like about the seminary – and American churches in general. None of his problems were linked to Jesus, the nature of God, or to the Gospel, but he talked like I was walking blindly into a den of vipers.

At Youth for Christ in North Wales, we make a real effort to walk with any church who will walk with us. Our contentions are that they must love Jesus and must love young people. If there is something that has a significant impact upon the Gospel, then we’ll graciously go our separate ways. There is an enormous plethora of church styles in North Wales, and many small disagreements – but they’re still filled with good people seeking Jesus.

Finding identity in who we’re against

I recently heard a joke about an industrious Christian stranded on a desert island. He built a hospital, a school, a post-office, and two churches. When rescuers found him, they asked about the two churches and he answered very seriously, pointing, “that’s the church I go to, and that’s the church I don’t go to.”

It’s almost like we cannot be who we are without finding that in the relief of who we’re not.

If we spent one tenth of the time talking about Jesus than we do about our niggling differences, then I bet we could kiss evangelistic training goodbye!

At some point we made the theology yardstick as narrow as the narrow gates of salvation (Matt. 7:13-14) – as if we somehow could work out someone else’s salvation with fear and trembling (Phil. 2:12). Somewhere we decided that judgment, protection, righteous anger, and conviction should all be whacked together, indiscriminately, to mean an aggressive micro-management of doctrine. I simply cannot get over the mean-spirited Christian meme culture surrounding this.

I totally believe in Gospel surety, in clear teaching, and in exposing false teachers as dangerous to the children of God, but the Bible spells out exact how to do that, and more importantly the heart in which that should be done. (Check out this post for more on that).

Theological Surety and Bold Correction

‘Calling people out’ has never been easier with the internet being what it is. It has moved a long way from what was supposed to be a careful and loving process of church discipline. It was designed to be surrounded by gracious conversation in a sequential course of community sanctification.

I’m afraid that you’re not a plain-speaking, bold-truth-talking, patriarchal hero if you just cavalierly mash together theological clarity and bold correction – however testosterone saturated it makes you feel (#godcomplex). Iron cannot sharpen iron if one of you is carrying a machine gun!

We must learn to strive, brick-by-brick, mile-by-mile, word-by-word, and yes, doctrine-by-doctrine to learn more about who God is and how we can worship Him holistically and as a community. Worship of God should always be our motivating force.

What does your doctrine do?

That’s what proper doctrine is right? It’s not just a legislative road map, it’s a living and active set of tools to help us fall more in love with the living God. Sorry, did you think there was going to be an exam before you got to the pearly gates? Did you remember to bring your well-sharpened No2 pencil?

Does your doctrine call you to love and worship God more – or does it place you higher on your own throne?

Do your corrections of others come from a place of longing that God would get more heartfelt worship through people – or that you would be recognised as an authority?

Do you think that what God really needs is a ‘night watchman’, walking around with a flashlight and body-armour, making sure no pesky doctrinal discrepancies sneak through the cracks and into the Kingdom?

The church will keep sinking until we put down our swords and pull together.

 

Photo by Oleg Laptev on Unsplash

How to write better blog posts

This will be a somewhat relative post, as all blogs are different. They have different readers and serve different purposes. For blogs like this one though, where you are trying to offer a genuine digital service, along with sound advice, thought provoking stories, and solidarity for like-minded people, making the effort to raise the bar is – I think – a noble pursuit.

I know the title of this post is going to be treated with a healthy amount of scepticism, but considering the amount of nonsense I’ve written, and the many, many mistakes that I’ve made, I feel like I can add a few dots of wisdom to the topic.

I started blogging almost 15 years ago, and at the time it was just a way of interacting with other students at my theology college. My posts tended to be long-winded, poorly written, over detailed, badly structured, filled with reactionary content, and peppered with incendiary commenting.

Since then I’ve made a lot of effort to carefully cultivate a readership, be more specific in my focuses, and generous with my platform. For those of you who have followed me for a long time, I hope you agree that this is a far better blog that It once was.

This post has been prompted by three people who kindly emailed and specifically asked me this question over the last few weeks. I said I would write something on it, so here it is.

There are many ‘how to write better’ posts already out there, so this just contains a few ideas that I personally have had to work hard on. I hope one or two might be useful!

Take it seriously

Readers are people first. My job is to engage with them as human beings and not click numbers.

I have quite a detailed a profile in my mind of a fictional, yet believable person who I’m writing to before I begin to plan each post. This isn’t always the same person but does tend to be one of three or four that I regularly think of. At very least I remember that my reader is not me.

This means that I take great care in how I research a post, how I structure it, the language I choose, its length, and its anecdotes. I try to be person specific.

Also, because I see blogging as a genuine part of my ministry, I invest in it. I pay for a self-hosted WordPress account, domain name, and template, and I take time off in the year to properly design and renovate the site.

Know your USP

‘USP’ or unique selling point, is basically a tool to help you remember what it is that makes you distinct. Your unique voice online should flow out of your unique personality. What place does your voice have in the wider conversation? No blog can be the complete word on any subject, but it can still have a clearly recognisable voice.

YouthWorkHacks tries to be a bridge between theoretical and practical youth work. Its place is to push the boundaries of theory into real application, and to challenge practices to engage more critically with their philosophical roots.

This is why the ‘voice’ of YouthWorkHacks requires pure practitioners to reach deeper for foundations, and pure theorists to reach a wider for applications. Hence the moto: ‘reaching further in youth work.’

As I’m both a practitioner and an academic, this suits me well. Some blogs are more resource driven, and some are more abstract. What’s your USP voice in the conversation – what do you bring that’s distinct?

Critically engage

Postgraduate marking criteria always mentions critical engagement. This is the ability to look at one issue from several angles, including perspectives that you might not agree with. The best posts follow this same principle; softening highly rhetorically or reactionary language in favour of genuine discussion.

When critiquing, the critically engaged post tries to see the context in which something is framed, it looks for the extraneous threads that pull on the central idea, and it knows the best arguments against its own position.

Rather than, ‘Person A said something stupid,’ how about ‘Person A has presented this idea, which is consistent with their other works in “these” ways, but it’s probably based in “X” particular context. Person B has a slightly different approach, which contrasts with Person A in the “following ways”. I think Person B makes the more lucid argument for “these following reasons”, and I would apply that in “these ways”.’ This is longer, but it gives far more content and it outgrows our own opinions.

Provide more than just problems

Plenty of blog posts don’t go beyond an observation of something they don’t like. If you think something is missing, or ethically wrong, or dangerous, then say so, but say why, and say what you think needs to happen in response.

A blog that only focuses on problems tends to be written as an exercise in catharsis. The focus becomes the writer and not what is said. When several blogs do this, they become an echo chamber, rehashing the same problems without solutions, and reframing the same issues without acknowledging hope. A post that says, ‘I saw this and it sucks’ without any more evaluation will always leave me wanting, and will probably mean that I won’t return to that blog again.

I want my blog to be a place of positivity and kindness, but without losing the reality of genuine struggles. It’s entirely possible to do both, but you have to plan, research, reflect, and write with more care and attention that just ‘sticking up a post.’

Blogs can’t square every circle, and they shouldn’t try to fix things that should be grieved over, but they can still provide a unique view, or an abstract set of ‘maybe if’ ideas.

Write better

This is such an obvious thing to say but good content requires a working vehicle to deliver it. When I read a post that clearly hasn’t been proofread, then I feel disrespected as a reader.

You don’t have to be Shakespeare to make sure that you have full stops in the right place, or capital letters for names.

I’m not a naturally gifted writer, instead I have to work very hard at it. This is why I tend to proof read my posts the day after I write them – and obviously before I post them. I also use tools like Grammarly and PaperRater – and I write my posts first into Word, rather than the blog wizard. Personally, I’m terrible at using inconsistent tenses, run-on sentences, and using words like ‘simply’ over repetitively. I use passive voice too much, and I write too much like I talk.

If you are a writer, then you must also be an editor. This is about serving the reader. My wife explains it this way; ‘Tim, you need to take me by the hand and walk me through each point, don’t assume that I’ll just get it.’

Pray more

Pray before you post. Pray for the message, the content, the readers, and for the people those readers work with.

As a ministry, commit it to God in the same way you would anything else.

If what you actually want to do is journal, then journal instead. If, however, you are advertising a public blog and producing content that shapes and informs people’s lives in ministry, then give it that same attention you would if those people were in the room with you.

Pray like you mean it, like you respect it, and like you want it to genuinely serve.

Thanks folks. I hope you found something helpful in there. I don’t always get these right (in fact, some times I get none of these right!) but they’re all well worth the effort and the time.

 

Blogging on the Sabbath – a call to digital rest.

“If you can’t take a nap, if you can’t take a day off, heaven’s going to drive you nuts.” [Mark Driscoll]

I first heard the concept of an ‘electric sabbath’ from Rob Bell during his drops like stars tour. The idea was to have an entire digital shutdown one day a week: No phone, no internet, no email, no streaming.

For some of us, myself included, this feels like shutting down a significant portion of our lives. We are left weightless and wallowing, bumping into walls while we try to remember the basic human mechanics of being AFK (let the nerd understand).

Our digital worlds have become a significant space for intellectual, emotional and social stimuli, and as such we move around them with both personality and identity. We leave digital fingerprints.

These digital fingerprints are unique, because they have been cultivated daily – perhaps even hourly – as some form of organic representation of who we are in this parallel online word. However accurate that representation is, and however tangible we believe that world to be are disputable, but no less a reality. We have basically created an extra limb – one that pulls to us when we don’t use it.

As a blogger with a reasonable online presence, this pulls at me in the ‘waking world’ with quite some insistence.

The refresh button and revisiting the same social media walls becomes an almost unconscious activity. I’ve had whole days when I have neglected the needs of my spirit, family, and work, because my head had been firmly wired into an unguarded twitter comment.

So, I suggest a pact. Let’s give ourselves a digital sabbath. A day away from the crawling needs and desires of our digital realm. I suggest a fast, a time when we climb down from our fickle electric thrones and embrace the wholeness of the world without it.

The irony of this post is that I’m writing it on a Sunday morning. In 45 minutes, I’ll be preaching. Wouldn’t this time have been better spent by… praying, meditating, preparing, talking to my wife, eating breakfast (you fill in the gap).

Growing in closeness to God requires some care taken over spiritual disciplines like praying and Bible reading. For spiritual disciplines to work, however, they require both spirit and discipline. Neither of these can be nurtured entirely without any level of sacrifice or – put another way – fasting.

A fast is saying no to something that our body or our ego needs, in order to recognise the level of dependency that we have in God.

When you’re sat in the office and it’s nearing lunchtime and your stomach is rumbling with anticipation, but then you suddenly remember that you’re fasting, a lead weight drops. You feel a sense of loss and almost desperation. This empty longing is a growth metaphor for how we need to long for God. That’s why fasting exists. We use that feeling and turn it into prayers of dependence on and recognition of who God is – and who we would be without Him.

I have a small, A5 presentation folder that I use for preaching. I’ve had it since I was first at Bible College and saw everyone else using them. I stopped using it almost ten years ago in favour of iPads and my MacBook (the Holy Spirit comes when there’s Apple products on stage right?) Recently, however, I rediscovered my little preaching folder and started using it again.

One of the reasons I use it now is the little inscription on the front page that I put there while in College. It says:

“You have offended God infinitely more than ever a stubborn rebel did his prince – and yet it is nothing but his hand that holds you from falling into the fire every moment.” [Jonathan Edwards, 1703 – 1757]

This is a heavy and somewhat brutal quote that says there is nothing apart from but God and His grace to uphold me  minute by minute. I am not my own, I was bought at a price, and it so important to me to reconnect with Him each day afresh. It’s important for me to recognise the depths from which He has saved me, and more the depths of need I have for Him each day.

That’s why we fast. That’s why we occasional withdraw.

The internet is noisy, and our digital fingerprints pull at us constantly. Perhaps a day off a week is not too much to ask to keep these things in check.

A digital sabbath. I think I might have a go!