All I Said Was #*%$

Stories From a Lifetime of Youth Ministry

Stan Kiste

• Publisher: Resource Publications
• Year: 2022
• Print ISBN:
  9781666736991
  9781666796001
• eBook ISBN:
  9781666796018
• Topic: Theology & Religion
• Subtopic: Social Science Biographies

After thirty-plus years of youth ministry it would be easy to imagine that you've seen it all--and that there is nothing left to learn. The truth is, however, that if we just pay attention, God loves to surprise us with unexpected moments of joy and humor that serve as opportunities to learn new lessons, remind us of those we may have forgotten, and, most importantly, remember why we got into ministry in the first place. These experiences can also serve as comforting reminders that we're not in charge. Knowing that the success of our ministry does not depend on us should be a relief and remembering that God uses broken and flawed people like us to build his kingdom should be an inspiration. This little book of ministry mishaps, miscalculations, and marvels is a reminder that delight and wonder abound when we are faithful and obedient to God's calling.

Chapter 1

That’s Not Ministry

When word first started getting out about our youth center project, I was stopped in the commons after worship by one of the long-time members of my church at the time.

She was curious about what we were up to and had some questions. “Will you be delivering a message as part of the evening’s activities?”

“No,” I replied.

“Will you be asking the kids to join together in prayer at the beginning of the night?”

“Nope,” I responded.

“Then you know what you’re doing is not ministry, right?”

You don’t say? Well, shoot. I guess we missed that.

The idea for a large community youth center was conceived while I was part of a local church youth ministry. God had blessed our youth programs with incredible growth, to the point where this growth played a significant role in our church needing to build a larger facility. As we spent time in our community, supporting kids at basketball games and band concerts, our leadership team agonized over the sheer number of kids we still weren’t reaching. We talked and dreamed and prayed and finally realized that expecting those kids to make a first contact by walking through a church door was unrealistic. When Jesus said go and make disciples, he really meant the go part.

We knew we had to create something that didn’t look, sound, or feel like church, but where kids could be part of a positive community and where we could shower them with God’s love. So, to simplify a long and challenging process, we created a youth center with the mission of providing kids a safe, fun, and positive community where they could be physically active, socially engaged, and spiritually encouraged. A big part of this effort was the idea that we would be non-intimidating and non-pressuring when it came to matters of faith. We would not require kids to listen to a message. We would not demand they join us in prayer. That all seems so . . . transactional.

We.

Just.

Love.

Kids have responded. As I write this chapter, and since opening our doors nearly eleven years ago, we’ve had 30,362 individual kids visit us during our open-to-the-public hours. That’s kids, not visits. Our annual attendance is also right around 30,000 visits per year. Over ten years. That’s 300,000 opportunities to invest in a young person who has decided to visit us.

I don’t say any of this to brag. Our goal from the start of this adventure has been to point the glory to God, not ourselves. Trust me when I say that if the success of this ministry depended on me we’d be in a world of hurt. Instead, I share this information to point out that perhaps loving people is enough.

It’s not that we hide who we are or what we’re about. Ask any kid who visits here and they know. And we don’t shy away from discussions about faith. In fact, we celebrate them. Do we get to share the Gospel with each and every kid who walks through our doors? No. Do we wish we could? Yes. Are we learning to be content with the fact that we’ve been called to a ministry of outreach rather than discipleship? We’re still working on that. But perhaps a ministry where God’s love is shared without the expectation of anything in return is just refreshing enough to reach a generation that is tired of being constantly sold to.

Ralph Waldo Emerson famously said, “Your actions speak so loudly, I can not hear what you are saying.” Jesus said, “This is how everyone will recognize that you are my disciples—when they see the love you have for each other” (John 13:35). It can be an ugly world out there, so we’re doing our best to share a way of life that leads to meaning, purpose, hope, and joy. To be a little refuge of light in the darkness. By simply sharing God’s love.

This approach has borne fruit. We know, for example, that 70 percent of the kids who visit our youth center claim no church home, meaning we’re impacting kids who are not being reached by traditional youth ministry. We hear comments from kids who tell us that, “we’re the first Christians they’ve met who actually do what we say we believe.” We celebrate the number of young people who join our volunteer staff because of, as they tell us, the impact this place has had on their lives and their desire to pass that along. We look forward to the greetings we receive from regular visitors as they walk through our doors and hellos we get in the grocery store or at the local mall from kids who recognize us. We’re blessed by the invitation to share the sorrows and joys of kids who open up to us on a regular basis. And this response shouldn’t be surprising, right? After all, Jesus called us to be his witnesses. Not his defenders. I’m not aware of anyone who has ever been argued or coerced into a meaningful exploration of what it means to follow him.

I’ve run into other folks over the years who have also accused us of not being a ministry. And I know I’ll stand in judgement someday, being held accountable for how I shepherded this resource for the furtherance of God’s Kingdom. As I’ve made abundantly clear, I’m far from perfect. But I can say with all confidence that I’m not worried about that particular accusation. Bring it on.

Chapter 2

All I Said Was #*&$

I was walking through our youth center one evening when a group of girls approached me.

“That boy over there is using bad language,” one of them said, while the others nodded their heads in earnest agreement.

This is not an uncommon occurrence. The young people who visit our building have bought into the idea of protecting this sanctuary from much of the junk they deal with in their everyday lives. They appreciate the safe environment we strive to provide and play an active role keeping things positive, so I was not surprised they were letting me know about something that made them uncomfortable. It happens all the time.

Because those of us who oversee things here can’t be a part of every conversation and interaction in our facility, we value their help and follow up on every incident they bring to our attention. If we didn’t, they’d soon realize they’re wasting their time and quit letting us know what’s going on.

After having them point out which boy they were talking about, I approached him, using all the de-escalation and non-intimidation techniques we’ve learned over the years.

“Hey buddy,” I said. “I hear you’ve been using some inappropriate language.”

He looked up at me with a confused look on his face, obviously trying to figure out what he said that might have offended someone. It actually took him several seconds to get there.

“All I said was #*%$,” he replied.

To say that I was stunned is an understatement. In fact, I wasn’t 100% sure of what I’d just heard. For one thing, my hearing isn’t what it used to be. Second, loud music and louder voices in our facility can make it difficult to hear. Finally, I simply couldn’t believe that particular word came out of that innocent looking 5th grader’s mouth.

“What was that?” I asked.

“All I said was #*%$,” he repeated. Reading the look on my face, he added, “We use that word at home all the time.”

Now, I didn’t just fall off the turnip truck. I realize the word he used, which begins with F, ends in C and K, and is not firetruck, does not possess the power it did when I was younger. In fact, I hear it used by people in everyday conversation nearly every time I sit in a booth at the local McDonalds or walk through the mall. It has entered the common lexicon. I’m also not judging. It’s just that I don’t find its use very . . . creative. Especially when used repeatedly in every sentence that comes out of someone’s mouth.

That doesn’t change the fact that for me, growing up, it was one of the most powerful and taboo words one could use. We didn’t hear it often, so it still affects me like someone throwing a firecracker at my feet. And being tossed about so matte...

Table of contents

• Title Page
• Acknowledgments
• Introduction
• Chapter 1: That’s Not Ministry
• Chapter 2: All I Said Was #*&$
• Chapter 3: A Minty Fresh Buzz
• Chapter 4: The Gales of October
• Chapter 5: Speechless
• Chapter 6: Who Did You Say Is in Charge?
• Chapter 7: Rising above the Darkness
• Chapter 8: What This Place Really Needs
• Chapter 9: Twister
• Chapter 10: Just When You Think You’ve Heard It All
• Chapter 11: A Painful Realization
• Chapter 12: Bath Time
• Chapter 13: But They Have Great Wings
• Chapter 14: Overflowing
• Chapter 15: Toilet Paper and Johns
• Chapter 16: Big Screen Debut
• Chapter 17: Eternal Flame
• Chapter 18: Taking Out the Trash
• Chapter 19: Prayer Ninjas
• Chapter 20: An Uplifting Experience
• Chapter 21: Dive! Dive! Dive!
• Chapter 22: Las Luces Azules
• Chapter 23: Joking Around
• Chapter 24: Searching for Leaders
• Chapter 25: Beep, Beep!
• Chapter 26: Legacy
• Chapter 27: Generations
• Chapter 28: Not the Last Word