An ode, in honor of my lousy Youth Pastors.

Sometimes I write poetry. Not often, but sometimes.

(Fictional dad, by the way.)

I was all of eleven when Father sat down

And directed me right to his side,

And the gloom in his eyes had awakened my fear

That I’d sinned—he was after my hide.

“No it’s not that,” he said, “but whatever that was—

Well, we’ll talk about that once again.

No, it’s something more difficult I must discuss

Since you’re now at an age over ten.

In this next year, you’ll go into (gasp) junior high

And the misery found in those grades,

And you’ll look to the church for what comfort you can—

But you’ll only find sports and charades.”

“I don’t follow,” I said.

“Well you see,” said my dad,

“In the sixth grade you’re known as a Youth,

Not a child, so no Sunday school class anymore.

And so now I must tell you the truth.

Son, a Youth is distracted by things of this world;

What is ‘cool,’ what is ‘with it,’ or ‘now.’

So the church needs a specialist to get them back,

And so this was our plan as to how.

“First, we parents abandoned our leadership roles

Because children don’t see us as ‘cool.’

And since that is their standard for leadership, we

Have adopted this ‘cool’ as our rule.

But we learned that they just won’t accept us as cool.

This is odd, and we can’t figure why.

We said all the same slang and we wore the same clothes!

Yet the Youth think it’s odd, or a lie.

So the church sought a person authentically cool—

One the Youth would accept and obey—

So we got a Youth Pastor to shepherd the Youth,

And instruct them to go the right way.

First he tries to determine what’s ‘cool’ with our kids,

Then he tailors himself to the fad.

In this way, he’ll distract them back into the church!

—But my son, his theology’s bad.

See, in order to get someone Youth will accept,

We acquired a Pastor so young

That he’s barely emerged from his own Youth himself,

And he’s lacking in wisdom. And dumb.

His poor brain has been crammed with theology from

All those schools he’s just come from, and so

He’s learned all the historical paths Christians took,

But he hasn’t a clue where to go.

In this state, he is hardly a leader of men—

He’s half heretic, to tell the truth—

There are so many ways he is too immature—

So we put him in charge of the Youth.

“Now my son, you know more than the average kid,

So I must warn you way in advance

Of the sort of Youth Pastor we’ve hired to lead.

He’s a risk, but we’re taking this chance.

See, the first one we had was a bit of a nut—

He drove thirty kids out with his ways!

He said, ‘If you’re halfhearted, you’re going to hell!’

Half the Youth Group was gone in ten days.

Well, the next one we got would take in any freak—

Even kids who came in from the slums!

He was hired to take care of our kids, not them!

Now he's gone, serving meals to those bums.

The Youth Pastor last year was an… int’resting guy.

His defect was that he was too wise.

He got picked as head pastor in some other church.

We can’t hold on to quality guys.

Now the current Youth Pastor is not like the rest.

Sure, his reasoning isn’t quite sound,

But the elders got tir’d of debating the rest,

And this guy—we can push him around!

So sometimes he might tell you you’re going to hell,

Or he’ll frighten you so you’ll obey.

He might frappé the culture with things of the Lord.

Just watch out for the things that he’ll say!

If you have any questions, please go to your mom

Or to me; we will both help you out.

If you don't find us ‘cool’ enough, we understand—

That is why our church hired this lout.”

“I don’t get it,” I told him. “Have you put my Youth

In the hands of a heretic, Dad?

For if he’s as defective as you say he is,

The results can be nothing but bad!”

“It was not my idea," said Father to me.

“But I think I can yet see God’s plan.

Every Youth must determine for him or herself—

In the most honest way that they can—

Whether they’ll remain Christian, or they’ll turn away.

And the thing that provokes them the best

Is the garbage this Youth Pastor feeds them each week.

It’s the ultimate form of a test.

In this way, they can figure out God for themselves

And maturity will have been won!

—Or they’ll chuck the whole system as stupid and weird.

But that’s one fewer hypocrite, son.”

I somehow yet survived the Youth Group in my teens,

As the Youth Pastors came, and moved on,

Though some lessons they taught might send them to the stake

If they’d taught them in 1301.

In the end, it turned out like my Dad has foreseen:

Many Youths walked away from the flock,

And a few realized God is here nonetheless,

And that Jesus is always our rock.

But what always nags at me is one little thing:

Is this really the best Youth can get?

Are Youth doomed to follow each flake, loon, or nut

Who’s not ready to lead adults yet?

There has got to be better than this for our Youth,

For our Youth, after all, are the church.

It’s not will be, but are. This the adults ignore,

And abandon their Youth in the lurch.

Now, to all the exceptions: God bless you. You’re great.

And to all the good leaders: Fight on!

And to everyone else, Please consider this fact:

Why are so many former Youth gone?