This is a guest post by Laura Larsen.
Laura Larsen lives in Kansas City, working for Youthfront and
Second Presbyterian Church. Currently a DMin student at Fuller, she
would be happy spending every afternoon with students and tweeting from
@thelauralarsen. Laura is most spiritually disciplined in the fall when
she is busy praying and fasting for her beloved LSU Tigers.
Pastoral Vocation in Youth Ministry by Laura Larsen
Finding out about abuse has always been the worst-case
scenario for me. Over my years of youth ministry I have slowly knocked bad
situations off my list of tough stuff.
Take a kid to the hospital. Check.
Get in a wreck with students in the bus. Check. Walk closely with a teen through the
death of a parent, ask a volunteer to step away from the ministry, deal with high-schoolers
smoking dope on a trip. Check,
check, check.
This summer I came face to face with the toughest situation
of all as I sat on the porch of a cabin and listened late one night. I had been bracing myself for this
moment for years – waiting for the day that I would hear about the brokenness
of this world invading the life of one I loved so dearly. Our conversation
ended much differently than I had always imagined, though. I didn’t make a
phone call to CPS or give my senior pastor a general heads up about what was
going on. I didn’t tell anyone;
actually, because the story of abuse I heard wasn’t from an adolescent in our
ministry, it was from a mom.
For a few years now I have wrestled
with my identity as a youth pastor.
So much of my training has insisted that my title is youth
pastor – adolescent development articles, social media workshops, YouTube tutorials
breaking down the steps to the “Hoedown Throwdown” or “Gangnam style”. Often the implication seems to be that my role as pastor is
secondary to my ability to relate to youth culture.
While the larger
conversation often wants me to believe that I am a youth pastor, my experience as taught me the opposite. In almost all of my most significant
ministerial moments, I have acted as youth pastor. When tragedy strikes a family or a teen admits deep existential
doubts, no one seems to care if I know the difference between “LOL” and
“YOLO.” In those moments it matters most that I can extend grace,
that I can sit in the sacred silence and listen. My role as youth pastor is as much about pastor than it is
about youth.
The conversation on the
porch that night was enough to put me over the edge -- it was a deeply pastoral
experience that had almost nothing to do with adolescence. It pushed me to contemplate which word
in my title was more important. My
passion calling to be a youth pastor didn’t change, but the way I approached my
vocation experienced a significant shift.
I like to think I am still a
pretty hip youth pastor but I now make a concerted effort to spend more time
cultivating my pastoral imagination than my youth culture relevance. I still read a little Epstein and Arnett
but mostly I’m soaking in Peterson and Buechner and Nouwen. The responsibility of my vocation is
pastor. Youth is just a helpful
adjective to describe those to whom I pastor.
Recent Comments