Youth Ministry training and the battle for professionalism. Is it worth it?

In the red corner, weighing in at -£30,000 (debt that is); a youth ministry professional with certificates, training and qualifications. They boast a long list of module credentials, and a mental catalogue of praxis, quotes and bibliographic data. I give you… the qualified youth worker.

In the blue corner, weighing in at 12 years; a veteran youth worker with three positions under her belt, a plethora of personal stories, and the blood, sweat and tears from more youth camps than you can swing a weasel at. She is… the experienced youth worker.

Let’s get ready to rumble! ‘Ding.’ And there’s the bell, fight!

Who would you put your money on? In what corner would you side?

In a world of middle-grounds, we know that the balanced approach is to do both – to gain as much experience as possibly while sitting some formal training; or at least remaining actively teachable while on the job. In reality, however, very few Christian youth workers in the UK are trained to degree level, most having worked their way up through the volunteering ranks without academic accountability. Are they missing something?

Breaking inside the bubble

To those outside the formal training bubble, a degree is little more than ‘a bit of paper.’ They can’t possibly know what they’re missing, however, because they’re missing it. I’ve met youth workers who strongly feel the absence of training and regret missing out, and I’ve met resentful youth workers who have been passed over for better jobs because of their lack of training.

It’s this latter group that tend to get under my skin, because there is an inherent arrogance to assuming you know something without actually studying it. There’s also a mean spiritedness to assuming that those who did chose to study did so only to tick a box, and didn’t actually have to work hard.

The problem, of course is that those who say you don’t need formal training tend to be those without it, and those who say you do, tend to be those with it.

I’m going to see if I can list off some pros and cons of training when applied to the youth ministry work world and see where it fits in alongside developing experience.

There are some anomalous factors that I’m not going to be able to factor in here. For instance, some training centres are just better than others, and some jobs provide far broader contexts for experience-based-learning too. I’m hoping, however, that by the end we’ll see a little bit more of the value of both perspectives and – all cards on the table – I hope we’ll consider formal training options more seriously than statistics would say that we do.

Qualifications and Training Pros and Cons

Pros

You look at topics objectively outside the realm of responsibility – so you find yourself safely out of your depths. I.e. nobody gets hurt if you get it wrong!

You are encouraged to critically engage with a wide range of different ministry opinions. By being presented with a spectrum of views, you will be able make clearer decisions on what works and what doesn’t. As a result, you become less likely to simply run after the ‘new thing’.

All practice becomes reflective practice. Everything you do and experience gets put under the microscope of analysis, making you more considered and careful in your approaches.

You do much of your thinking in community. You learn to measure voices in a room and be sharpened by others. Being taught in community simply makes you more teachable – which means that you’ll learn more!

You learn to ask more questions. Without asking questions, formal study just doesn’t work. You learn to become analytical of both your own thought-processes and the ideas that surround you. Granted, sometimes this is just to get a higher mark, but a higher mark means more critical engagement, better understanding, and clearer, more coherent communication. It’s worth it!

You learn to ask better questions. You start to draw a straight line between the information that you need and the best way to get at it. You are able to dig deeper, find roots, and simply be a clearer thinker as a result.

You get formal recognition. Having a degree is not simply ‘having a piece of paper.’ Anyone who says that simply doesn’t understand the accreditation process. A degree means you have been held accountable to a strictly measured standard, so you actually leave with a base level of learning. This is why a degree is so valuable – it tells your potential employer that you have been rigorously tested and have hit the mark.

You stick at it! Because you invested in a foundation, you’re much more likely to stick around the long haul.

Cons

You act like a jerk. Ok, not always, but I often talk about ‘First-year At Recognised Theological-college Syndrome’ or FARTS. When you have spent a year with people far smarter and more considered then you, you then it’s easy to adopt their approach verbatim as if you had actually spent the all years developing it yourself. You start to sound cocky, but without the substance to back it up. Real people become theological targets for you to practices your swings, and the heart gets clogged up in ‘doctrinal accuracy.’

You can become arrogantly unpliable. Some training (although usually truer for non-accredited courses) only teaches you their method – and subtly inoculates you against all others. You see things in isolation and therefore don’t allow for the possibility of how a given context could need you to change your approach. This is even more difficult if that approach is something your college told you was wrong.

Debate becomes the de facto way to discuss. There are many human skills that you can unlearn when in a vacuum of people who debate theology and practice all day. Normal friendly conversation with different types of people is one of them.

You become prepared theoretically without being prepared practically. When I left Bible College for the first time, I was ready to write a Bible study, but not lead one; I was ready to prepare a strategy, but not execute it; I was ready to think about death, but not sit in hospital with a bereaved parent. There are some things that training just doesn’t train you for.

It’s expensive. You’ll be paying for training for a while, and I’m not connived that colleges really need to charge all that they do. Saying that, with less people choosing training options, the price does tend to suffer for the few who do.

So, is training worth it?

I absolutely think it is. Experience will round and shape you over the years, but a foundational time of rigorous study is a gold-mine. Very few people who say they will study ‘later’ actually do. Also, of the many youth workers who begin their work career without formal training, even fewer stick around after their first contract.

Training fills in gaps that you wouldn’t otherwise know need filling. Training teaches you a way to think critically and in community. Training also helps you focus your efforts during the building of experience. I believe that experience post-training builds into helpful experience quicker, with fewer mistakes, than experience without training. There’s just less running around in the dark!

Training is not the same as experience, and it cannot replace it, but securing a solid foundation is going to be gold when you have the experience to go with it. It’s both-and not either-or, but if you have the choice, don’t skip training.

Find this interesting? Check out let’s stop telling future youth ministers to skip training, for a slightly rantier version!