Our earliest experiences are all out of whack when it comes to formational influence. Maybe that's why, after 44 years, I still vividly remember the nervous perspiration hugging my heart as I walked onto the campus of Norwell High School to meet kids. I had no plan.
Remembering that there were people praying only added to the pressure. I didn't want to fail on my very first visit to launch a new campus ministry outreach. Teens who didn't know me were not flashing warm smiles of welcome in my direction. Unnerved by my own poor preparation, I briefly considered coming up with an excuse for fleeing.
Pausing in the doorway of the busy cafeteria, it seemed like every fork stopped in mid-air and every young person scowled the same silent psychic accusation in my direction: "You don't belong here." And my brain, a marvelous organ which, like yours, assesses and reports threats to our social safety at a rate of about 6X per second, clearly agreed. Cue the sweat glands.
What happened next is a memorable blur. I moved awkwardly to the nearest lunchroom table and asked a brilliantly winsome youth ministry question: "How's the food?" At that moment I turned inwardly, choosing to secretly insult myself for the stupid question before I heard something similar from a high school sophomore. I was surprised when a mocking answer flew through the air from a senior eating nearby.
"Tastes like sh*%!" Laughter erupted and then muffled in uncertainty. Who was I, anyway? And would the senior be in trouble for cussing?
My feet, without an actual directive from my brain (it was too busy calling for more 'panic sweat' to pour from my pits), carried me toward Monty. Wait, how did I know that was his name? Because he told me when I sat down and started chatting him up. This is the blurry part. I don't remember how I transitioned, but I do remember he lived in Zanesville, like me. We talked until we were alone in the cafeteria and Monty had to hustle off to class. I lingered, stunned. What just happened? And what had I done right?
I showed up.
Everything about the encounter was a clunky mess. But I pushed through fear, remembered Jesus was with me, and made a kid connection. It would be the first of many at Norwell in the spring of 1976. Kids came to meet Jesus in those days; they're Facebook friends scattered around the country now. And they still follow Jesus.
One word sets campus ministry apart from church-centered youth ministry. Pursue. Leave what's comfortable, what's familiar. Move into their terrain, the place where so many teens spend so many of their minutes being misshaped, unaware of Jesus and his love for them. Show up in their world and push out among young people who aren't seeking to know you. They don't know. They're lost...aimless...clueless. In need of pursuit.
Like we all were before Jesus showed up.
Dave Rahn (PhD, Purdue) has spent 47 years in youth ministry, splitting his career about evenly between Huntington University (professor, researcher, author) and Youth for Christ (Campus Life director, local trainer, VP of National Ministry Leadership and, now, Senior Ministry Advisor). His latest book about durable, disruptive joy for teens (Eb Davis, co-author) will be published by Youth Cartel in 2020. He and Susie (wife of 43 years) live in Middlebury, IN, enjoy four grandkids and tolerate one more. Connect with Dave HERE