the fear factor

I am freaking out.

My list of administrative and planning tasks for the campus ministry at the Edge House is about half-done and, though there's a bunch left, I was feeling pretty good about it. Pretty accomplished. Then I started catching up on Benson Hines' web log on campus ministry and I'm freaking out.

First there's a post about cool and formative ideas for a retreat, then one about how important the first month of classes is, especially for freshmen. It's really great information--ideas that I can use to deepen my presence on campus and relationships with my returning students. There are 23 more posts to read and I just can't.

It doesn't seem to matter that my Campus Ministry Team and I have decided to target specific populations on campus rather than the whole place. It doesn't seem to matter that I've been reading the book of Ecclesiastes which has inspired me to be more relaxed. It doesn't seem to matter that last year was more wildly successful than I'd hoped and that I've got some fabulous plans for this year. It doesn't seem to matter that my returning students are brilliant, amazing people who all want to get more involved in the ministry and bring more people into the fold.

All I can think right now is that there is just too much possible. Too many students to reach, too many issues to address, too many competitors to the Word we're offering, too many ways it could all go wrong.

This is the place in the web blog post where I should share how I've turned away from this fear. This is the place where I offer hope to the rest of you who feel the same about campus ministry or whatever it is you're passionate about. Right now, I can't. Oh, I know it's there, but I can't really see it.

good stuff

Any college ministry that quickly settles on its target audience, mission statement, core group of students, major goals, or other fundamentals should question whether it has done sufficient work to learn the campus tribe, build meaningful relationships, and develop the ministry strategy.

--Reaching the Campus Tribes by Benson Hines

discipling college students

Did you know "disciple" is a verb?

Friend and office-mate Chris asked some folk for thoughts on "simple steps for discipling college students." Keeping them simple as asked, here are my thoughts:

• Meet them where they are. So where are they? Go there.
• Provide free food but don't stop there.
• Listen. Really listen. Don't tell them what to do.
• Have clear expectations of their journey--don't refrain from challenging them.

What do you think?

some thoughts about week 1

• I recently heard that if you're not exhausted by the end of the first week of classes in the campus ministry game, you're not doing it right. It's Wednesday and I've been exhausted for at least two days.


• But it has been phenomenal! At The Edge House at UC, Sunday evening's Make-Your-Own Sundae drew about 70 students throughout the two hours and Monday's Mini-Masterpieces and pizza at least 80. Last night's Theology Throwdown (thanks DG for the name) drew about 15 or so and we had a feisty, quickly-moving conversation. It's amazing to finally be doing the thing I've been preparing for for months.


• AND my boss, the lovely and vivacious Larry, told me that what I'm doing--house revamp, ministry reboot--is what he's been dreaming fondly about for years.


• And what's maybe more amazing is my co-planners. Co-ministers? Let's go with friends. Jamie and Chris have been gifts to me in my stumbling around in the campus ministry dark. We're all new or relatively new to the party and are leaning on one another for many things. Absolutely no way I could have survived this week without them. And we're only half-way there.


• I read Benson Hines' campus ministry blog and feel...lazy. Or amateur. He's got such great stories and ideas, most culled from ministries around the country, and I wonder if I'll ever be in a position to do what he writes about. But that's just the exhausted part of me. The other, energetic part says, "let's go!"

today I am doing a new thing

I've figured out what's got me running so scared about campus ministry. I know, I put forth this air of utter competence and joyous energy--how could I possibly have doubts? Well, I do. Don't you?

It's not meeting people. It's not doing cool programs and/or worship. It's not interacting with faculty and administration. It's the students.

More specifically, it's empowering the students to be leaders. Everyone who's anyone at the campus ministry party says the key to successful (however you define that) ministry is a student-owned and -run operation. I'm all for it. It's all about the priesthood of all believers, about empowering the laity, about the priest/minister/grand poobah not being in charge but just another guy with a specific set of skills. It's about community sustainability. Again, I'm all for it. I'm just not sure I'm all about it.

Do I, extroverted and sometimes control-adjacent Alice, have the skills and gifts for giving the power to someone else? Looking back at five years in my previous parish, I wonder. I created an elected youth council to govern and vision for the youth group and many of the youth were active in planning and encouraging others. But they weren't where I had hoped. But process theology tells me that we never truly arrive--we're always on the way. It's less about hitting a particular, self-inflicted goal and more about how you exist and change in relationship.

Pray for me and for officemates Chris and Jamie that we stay semi-sane and feel the breath of God periodically.

location, location, location

When I mentioned to my former supervisor that I now wear my clerical collar most days at work as a campus minister, he rolled his eyes. This is, of course, because he had to practically force me to wear it when I worked with him in a parish church. And that's what I have been musing about this afternoon: why the difference?

In the parish church, in theory, most folks know that I'm a priest--they hired me, after all, and see me celebrate on Sundays. Being a youth minister means you can get away with more casualness but, in turn, casualness might also say something about the worship or theology of the place. Certainly it could say, "I don't value this place" or "I don't know enough to dress up" but for many folk, it said, "Bring yourself as you are" or "It's not as staid as all that." In other words, there are expectations of looking and acting a certain way in church or at the church building and looking different can help complicate those expectations in a good way.

Similarly, there are expectations about what campus ministers look like: Birkenstocks, crazy hair, tattoos, nerdy-chic glasses...wait a minute, that sounds familiar. My point is that folk assume a much more casual attitude and image on campuses and perhaps a way to complicate those expectations is to be a bit more formal. Thus, I wear my black and white most days. With Chucks. But that's a tangent.

I'm remembering a casual Eucharist that my house church held recently. We were on retreat in Hocking Hills and at dinner one evening, we read a little scripture, chatted about it a bit, said a brief (but theologically sound) eucharistic prayer, and shared the Meal with our meal. We prayed together and shared remembrances with one of our number who would be leaving for a new life in Boston at the end of the retreat. The Eucharist itself was simple and meaningful, I think, particularly as it was our own Last Supper as the group was currently made up. And, though we all knew that the bread and wine were just as sacred in that place as they were in the Big Church at home, there was a lot of giggling and conversation as they were passed. I'm not certain I would have wanted absolute silence either, but I wonder if I should have been a bit more formal myself? That is, if I as the celebrant had been less nervous and more confident, perhaps noting somehow the casualness of the evening contrasted with the reverence of the Meal, I wonder if it might have been a bit smoother?

The point being, some formality is needed and desired in a situation of extreme casualness just as some casualness is in a formal situation. Like Chucks with a tuxedo. It's a question of what your desired effect is--for me, right now, I want to show folks something new that they hadn't thought of. That worship can be more spontaneous or that it can be more reverential; that church should be fun, or that God is present on a secular campus.