Note: Monday Morning Quarterback is a recurring post that examines personal and pastoral events of Sunday.

 

6:00. Up n’ at ’em, boss

6:05. Look in the mirror to see my left eye has puffed up overnight in some strange allergic episode. It’s a nice compliment to the large infected hair follicle on my neck.

6:18. Taking antibiotics. And Zyrtec. And Ibuprofen.

6:21. Coffeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

6:28. Check email to find the sermon manuscript from a student who’s preaching for Youth Sunday this morning. Contains the phrase, “This is not what I’m actually going to say.”

6:43. Reading this article over granola

7:32. Getting dressed. Wife says, “You need to clean up the patio this afternoon.” Right. Check. Got it. No problem. Silent assenting nod.

7:56. Arrive at church and head straight for sanctuary. Do not pass office. Do not collect 200 voice messages.

8:04. Moving chairs onto the chancel. It’s Youth Sunday. That always means more chairs for some reason.

8:09. Writing an announcement about our youth work trip car wash to be read by a student.

8:15. Writing an announcement about today’s Teacher Appreciation emphasis to be read by another student. No idea who that will be yet.

8:26. Allergy fog moving in.

8:43. Text from sound tech student about the Introit his sister planned and that we practiced 27 times at yesterday’s rehearsal: “I’m not 100% sure that will work.” Baffled.

8:51. Sound tech student’s sister enters the sanctuary and briefs me on the sibling squabble that produced her brother’s text.

8:53. Sanctuary ready. Bring on the students, who were told and texted repeatedly to be here at 9:00.

9:08. Text from student: “9:00 or 9:15?”

9:13. Running the Introit, you know, just to make sure it works. It’s a recorded song played through an auxiliary cable on the sound board. It worked every time during yesterday’s rehearsal, and it works now. No worries.

9:30. Texting one of the student preachers: “Where are you?”

9:32. Reply from student preacher: “Do you need me for something?” Panic.

9:40. 3/4 of the youth string quartet that’s playing in worship arrives just in time for a five minute rehearsal.

10:00. Student-led prelude has begun. Youth Sunday is underway.

10:04. Realize during announcements I forgot to recruit a student to read the one about Teacher Appreciation. Gesture frantically to the student closest to the front on the chancel. He descends the steps to the first pew and I tell him the announcement’s on the lectern and he just needs to read it. He’s got this.

10:06. Student calling for Teacher Appreciation announcement. My guy calmly crosses the chancel to the lectern, fumbles with papers, checks back sides of papers, then gives me look of panic. Calmly stroll to the lectern and point him to the paper he needs to read. That moment when your own lack of preparation makes a student look bad . . .

10:09. Student sets up the Introit. She’s worked on this for two weeks: a choreographed energizer to “Happy.” She calls for the music, and . . . nothing. Awkward laughter as she and two other leaders stand up front, waiting for music to start. After 20 seconds or so, inauspiciously stroll down the center aisle (to more nervous laughter) to the sound board to find sound tech student in a panic. The thing is playing, but no sound is coming out. This is a thing that happens sometimes, but it didn’t happen once during our extensive preparation. Make necessary tweak, and it starts working. Assure sound tech student it’s not his fault. He’s panting.

10:10. Introit underway, and it’s as cool as we thought it would be. And I’m happy.

10:37. Because it’s Youth Sunday I can sit with Wife and Daughter during the service. That’s nice, until Daughter starts climbing my back.

10:47. Some confusion on the chancel transforms the normal phrase, “Let us dedicate our offering” to “Let us praise the dedication.”

10:58. Rehearsing the charge and benediction with the two student preachers during the final hymn. Forgot to actually plan this part . . .

11:06. Fielding annual Youth Sunday feedback on the patio, which is a less-than-artful hybrid of praise for students’ leadership and complaint that they weren’t loud enough.

12:35. Lunch with Wife and Daughter. Planning afternoon in my head: clean patio, maybe watch rest of iTunes rental movie before it expires, maybe watch some of Royals game, maybe, even, nap. Thoughts interrupted by Wife: “You need to take Daughter swimming this afternoon.” Not. In. The. Plan.

2:00. At pool with Daughter. She’s talking, but I keep nodding off. She’s losing patience.

3:30. Cleaning the patio.

3:43. Text from high school student: “We’re not having youth group, right?”

3:44. Text all high school students: “See you at 7 tonight for youth group!” I got this.

4:30. Jr. High Youth Group. Two students.

5:43. Youth Intern describes me as “malevolent.”

6:12. Ordering pizza for high school youth group. Complete order and remember about the gluten-intolerant kid. Order another pizza from another place that has gluten free crust. Wonder if the delivery guys will fight in our parking lot.

7:34. High school youth group devolving into fart talk.

8:12. Youth Intern reading Book of Legends portions to students about Adam and Eve. They’re riveted.

9:02. Student begs to borrow Book of Legends. Resistant at first, but relent with the realization that this is exactly the kind of thing you want to happen in youth ministry.

9:09. Circling the campus with student while checking all the doors. He’s crossing himself and pronouncing a blessing his grandma taught him. It’s kind of freaking me out.

9:28. Drop student off and head home.

9:58. “The rental period for this movie has expired.”

 

 

 

Note: Monday Morning Quarterback is a recurring post that examines personal and pastoral events of Sunday.

5:25. No timestamps this week.

Friday and Saturday was our overnight youth retreat and service day with another church in town. This used to be a 30 Hour Famine, but for reasons I explored here we had food this year and focused on the problem of homelessness. Some kids missed the famine. I’m listening.

I spent a lot of mental time on Saturday mulling future possibilities with this other church. This is the third consecutive year we’ve done this event together, and our students clearly benefit from working together. And they’re very different types of kids. Also, I like their leader, and he’s told me in other conversations that he’s mulling a change in format away from weekly youth groups and toward more frequent special events.

So I’m having youth collective ideations and wondering if the next several months might not be the time to move on them.

Three things from Sunday:

1. A mother with three small children who months ago arrived as a frazzled guest and left 10 minutes into the service after he toddler went tearing down the center aisle was back yesterday so that her daughter could receive a Bible in worship. Our Children’s Ministry Director has maintained contact with her and invited her. I was totally in the dark. The work our Children’s Ministry Director done is second to none. And I mean none.
2. A “Big Picture Group” gathered in the afternoon to grapple with some of the major transitions happening in the world and think about how our church needs to respond: strategic thinking; discernment; opportunities; risks. So much energy. So many ideas. More please.
3. Fresh off of the Big Picture conversation about opportunities, the last 15 minutes of junior high youth group got interrupted by one of the leaders of the Indonesian congregation that worships with us. A few weeks ago we’d spoken for a couple minutes about their youth joining ours some time. “Sure,” I’d said. “Let’s talk about that!” Now, he’s at the door with four obviously reluctant students behind him, saying, “They’re joining you now.” Stop everything. Welcome them in. Reboot the gathering with ice breakers. One of their students doesn’t talk, and my volunteer takes the reigns and leads a game that requires no talking. My people are great. Seriously, great.

Now I’m indulging speculation about what our junior high youth group might become with a contingent of Indonesian youth. But they’re in high school. So now I’m wondering how the whole schedule of gatherings might change.

What if, instead of an afternoon junior high group followed by an evening high school group, you had an afternoon gathering for ALL youth that was high on recreation and physical activity like service projects followed by an evening gathering for ALL youth that was more conversational and study-based. Theoretically they might both combine junior high and high school students. Theoretically some students might want to do both. Theoretically . . .

How would you decide?

 

 

Note: Monday Morning Quarterback is a recurring post that examines personal and pastoral events of Sunday.

 

4:00. Alarm. Fell asleep working on the sermon last night, so here’s how this gets done.

4:37. Getting lost in Google Earth so I can name in my sermon the distances in miles from Jerusalem to Nazareth, Capernaum, and Bethlehem, respectively.

6:43. Closing the laptop on a sermon with no ending.

6:45. Enjoying some of the MASSIVE fruit salad I made yesterday. This thing should last all week.

6:53. Picking a tie in the dark=a dangerous move.

7:03. Out the door.

7:15. Set up the laptop in the pulpit to begin editing (and writing a conclusion).

7:32. Checking on my stack of T-shirts for handing out in the narthex. It’s a creative and interactive and very forward-thinking Palm Sunday worship idea that couldn’t possibly go wrong. Don’t worry about it.

7:52. Putting up Sunday School signs and suddenly remember that the youth Sunday School room has been overtaken by the preschool book fair. I knew about this and made alternate plans for afternoon youth groups but not Sunday School. Doh!

8:12. Catching up with Head of Staff, who was out of town all week.

8:58. Relocating Youth Sunday School class to library. Teachers smiling at me through gritted teeth.

9:12. Sitting in with Youth Sunday School as they finish preparations to lead next Sunday’s early morning Easter service.

9:13. The perfect opening hymn for this service wou–oh look a donut!

9:24. Student objecting to the Prayer of Confession language about the “cost” of following Jesus. Scanning the book shelves directly behind him for Bonhoeffer’s “The Cost of Discipleship.” 

9:49. Checking in with Head of Staff before the service and realizing that I’ve incorporated some out-of-the ordinary stuff in this service and not necessarily told her about it exactly so much really for the most part.

10:07. Making two of the three pulpit announcements entrusted to me. Forgetting the third.

10:08. Head of Staff calling on me to make the announcement I forgot to make earlier. It’s for an Easter vigil service, and I manage to describe it without a single use of the word “vigil.”

10:11. College student liturgist who I’ve recruited to lead a memorized call to worship and who is doing a bang-up job of it pauses a little too long between lines, and the organist launches into the opening hymn. Dazed liturgist stammers off the chancel.

10:12. The palm procession is a train of kids parading around the sanctuary waving palms at worshipers who are waving them back at them. Fun.

10:14. Liturgist now leading Prayer of Confession from memory and with drama. He’s goooood.

10:18. As children scramble forward for the Time with The Children (where the very creative, forward-thinking, interactive T-shirt activity is to take place), someone tells me that most people wouldn’t take the shirts when they came in. Uh oh. The whole Time with The Children, Scripture lesson, and sermon depend almost entirely on lots of people having these shirts to lay down in the center aisle. Hadn’t considered for a moment that people might actually decline taking them.

10:22. Whatever. There’s enough. It’ll work. Remembering that I work with competent and creative people who can cover over my lack of preparation.

10:25. Launching into my first attempt at Biblical storytelling. With lots of guidance from the inestimable Casey Wait Fitzgerald, I’ve practiced these dozens of times this week. Now suddenly afraid I’m going to trip down the chancel steps.

10:27. Still on my feet.

11:01. Liturgist now leading a memorized charge and benediction. Hoping he realizes he’s just creating a need for himself.

11:12. Man from Jerusalem informs me that I misstated the distance from Jerusalem to Bethlehem. I’d said “22 miles” because that’s what Google Maps had showed me, depicting a long circular route. When I explain this, the man from Jerusalem says, “That’s because of the occupation. It’s really walking distance.” Remember that I know nothing about anything in the world that’s important.

11:25. Making plans to meet Wife and Daughter for lunch in an hour after I lead the Lenten small group.

12:45. Lenten small group still going.

1:03. Arrive at the restaurant where Wife and Daughter have finished their meals and mine is waiting for me. Wife=the best.

1:30. Check the At Bat app on my phone prior to heading home. Pleased to find the Royals have rallied in the 8th to take a 3-2 lead against the Twins. Eager to get home and watch the end.

1:38. Arrive home just in time to find that the Royals are now behind 4-3. Sigh.

1:52. Royals lose. Nap time.

1:55. Daughter excitedly showing me her sticker book creation.

1:57. Cats nestling in that crook between my knee and ankle.

1:58. Daughter jumping on my stomach and asking why the Royals lose so much.

2:12. Trying to teach Daughter to open Netflix by herself so I won’t have to get off the couch.  She can totally do it, and now, I realize, my life is very different from what it was a minute ago.

2:37. Giving up on nap. Making coffee.

2:46. Show wife newspaper article about Disney on Ice this coming weekend.

2:48. Receive text message confirmation of ticket purchase to Disney on Ice. Wait, what?

3:43. Getting daughter ready for play rehearsal. It’s production week. And Holy Week. Awesome.

4:19. Leaving for youth groups. Need more coffee.

4:48. Jr. high student divulges that her login name for Webkins used to be “ChaCha143.” Her peers are now resolved to call her that for the rest of the day.

4:52. Student says, “I tried to give up sweets for Lent, but that didn’t work.” Me: “Why didn’t it work?” Student: “They’re just really good.”

4:55. Urging students to take one week Lenten disciplines. Here’s a commitment: “I commit to being nice to everybody this week. Except my brother.”

5:06. Playing “Run on The Bank” outside, crouching in the bushes with a student. This violates every risk management policy we have.

5:08. Student in camo’s is telling everyone “get down!” Dude, this is a church game, not Call of Duty.

5:48. Intern has brought white wine vinegar for students to smell as we hear the passion story. Student in camo’s drinks some. I love junior high.

6:30. Gathering with high school students at the multiplex for Noah.

6:50. Not appreciating the trailer for “The Other Woman” with my group of high school dudes.

7:22. When Anthony Hopkins appears as Methuselah, whisper to the Youth Volunteer next to me, “Of course it’s Anthony Hopkins. Was Morgan Freeman not available?” Her answer: “Morgan Freeman is God.”

9:30. Dropping a student off home.

9:43. Home. Wife has made daughter’s lunch and prepped everything for Monday morning. Wife=bestbestbest.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Note: Monday Morning Quarterback is a recurring post that examines personal and pastoral events of Sunday.

5:10. Alarm. That the clock reads 10 after the hour means the alarm went off once already. I have no memory of that.

5:33. Sit down to start working on adult ed Sunday school lesson. Start by trying to memorize the story.

6:12. Consider using a piece of music to reflect on Jesus’ question, “What are you looking for.” There are good options and bad options.  Never mind. There are no good options.

6:49. Breakfast is a banana parfait, which is fancy pants talk for mashed up banana topped with cornflakes. So, baby food.

7:14. Getting dressed. Ask Wife, “Are you coming to my Sunday School class?” Wife: “Uh, no. I’m sleeping.” Alright. Awesome.

7:37. Making Daughter a smoothie for breakfast. The blender is alive with strawberries!

8:20. Printing signs and Sunday school sign in sheets. Daughter racing to the printer to retrieve papers. Its literally her favorite thing about Sundays.

8:31. Setting up still image Head of Staff wants to display during her sermon. Suggest I could cue up some wolf howl noises as a reprise of my performance a couple of weeks ago when I started playing a video too early. Why isn’t she laughing?

9:08. Start Sunday school class with the prompt: “Think of a time when someone asked you a question that caught you off guard.” Answers include, “Why did you teach those dirty books?” from a former teacher and “Where is home?” asked of a former missionary by her four year-old (bonus: the older sibling’s answer to the four year-old was, “Home is wherever mom isn’t.”).

9:40. Invite Sunday school class to take a moment to silently consider Jesus’ “What are you looking for?” for themselves. The silence is rich.

9:52. I let Sunday school run long, now I’m racing to the sanctuary to turn on announcement slides. Pass the Head of Staff assembled with the communion servers. Cover my face and duck behind them unseen.

10:11. The Prayer of Confession this morning is two junior high girls singing what we’re calling “A contemporary song.” I know my seminary professors would roll their eyes at this, but I’m choking up a bit.

10:20. Children’s time is an art project led by the CE Director. Wait. When I texted her from NEXT that “we should try a Children’s Time that involves kids making some art” I didn’t mean, like, this week!

10:30. Children’s time art project running long. Kids filling baby food jars with fragrant oil and decorating them with stickers. The congregation is totally dialed in though.

10:34. Turn on still image for Head of Staff’s sermon.

10:39. Still image turns to blue screen. Forgot to adjust computer settings. It went to sleep. Seriously. How hard is this?

10:41. Head of Staff working her whole sermon around, “Say something I’m giving up on you.” I’m a little bit in awe.

10:52. Wife has retrieved Daughter and Playmate for communion. They’re in the front pew. Playmate is laying with her head in Daughter’s lap while Daughter strokes her hair.

10:57. Playmate takes two pieces of communion bread!!

11:23. Remark to Wife how precious Daughter and Playmate looked. She corrects me: “They were playing a game: Playmate was a crazy baby and Daughter was her mommy.”

11:46. Meeting to plan kid-friendly Easter vigil. CE Director ordered pizza. I’ll plan a baby-friendly service for pizza.

12:44. Meeting Wife and Daughter at the park. Gleeful to discover student there. On a date. About 200 yards away.

12:45. Text student, “Why weren’t you in church?”

12:45. Text student, “Don’t you hate it when people text you while you’re on a date?”

12:45. Text student, “Like, a lot.”

12:46. Student calls. “You should know this doesn’t happen very often. You should stop now.” Stopping.

1:42. Walking with Wife and Daughter to get pie and coffee. It’s a sunny 77 degree Sunday afternoon and we’re going for pie and coffee; why can’t every day be like this?

2:23. Negotiating junior high youth group snacks by text. High school youth group snack texts going unreturned.

4:44. Two students for junior high youth group. Four adults.

5:18. Students sitting on the curb while I tell the Jesus temptation story from the middle of the street, all so I can point to the mountains behind me at verse 8.

5:48. Game of Things with this youth group can mean only one thing: dead hamster jokes.

7:11. Two students for high school youth group. Five adults.

7:33. Listening to this gem from TAL about The Apology Line.

9:00. Youth group ends with one student storming away irritated at the other student. Awesome. I can’t prevent conflict when there are only two kids.

9:14. Pitching the Intern on the Youth Ministry Coaching Program (see what I did there?).

9:30. Return home to find that Wife has signed all the tax papers and arranged them all with their respective payments paper clipped to color coded envelopes. Decide she gets a pass on skipping my Sunday school class.