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Why I Love Flying

"Therefore I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities for the sake of Christ; for whenever I am weak, then I am strong." 2 Corinthians 12:10

I love flying. It's not about the excitement of heading somewhere. It's not about the lovely plain plane food. It's definitely not about the exhilaration of getting stuck next to a hygienically-challenged passenger. I love flying because it forces me to stop. I don't have any roles to play. There are no expectations to fulfill. I have no one to impress. I am powerless. I'm just me.

Ministry should be just like flying. When we do ministry—especially with young people—we need to be just us, nothing else. We need to stop. We need to allow ourselves to be powerless. Don't get me wrong; I love the hyper-spaz moments of youth ministry when we dress up like Evil Barney or pretend we're a crazed emcee or self-absorbed gym boy. But I've come to realize that it's usually not in those rah rah, power moments that ministry really happens. Ministry happens in the moments where we're not "on." It's when we have no roles to play.

The problem is that's not what I've been taught in seminary (where theological power reigns) or witnessed in so many of the youth leader conferences (where programmatic power rules). Many of us come to ministry armed with our splendiferous Bag o' Tricks. "You want a great program? Well, I have just the right gimmick that'll really draw kids in and give them a meaningful time. Yes, you too can orchestrate a spiritual moment!"

I have to admit that I actually love these tricks, but that's because it's my way of exercising power. I'm making ministry happen. It's my way of taking the power out of God's hands.

Ministry happens not when we put on the perfect Christian act (adolescents see right through it anyway). It doesn't happen when we have all the right games or jokes or crazy events or well-prepared Bible studies. It doesn't happen when we're delivering our well-sculpted messages complete with all the right answers. No. It happens when we're not doing ministry at all. It happens when we've turned it all off and are ultimately powerless to do anything. It happens (maybe best) when we're at the end of our rope, in our rawest moments.

Why is this so, even though it's completely counter intuitive? In those times, we aren't in charge of the ministry. The ministry of Christ is in charge. God is taking over and making things happen. God shouldn't have to wrestle the ministry reigns out of our hands—we need to hand them over. We need to consciously give up power.

We believe we have the power to make it happen. We know what it takes to make a great program. We know the ingredients for a superb ministry. So why shouldn't we use our own power to pull this off and get the high praise from parents and church staff alike? After all, that's what the church is paying us for. With all the stuff we know and charisma we have, we could build an empire. Doesn't God needs us to pull it off?

Oops. We can get carried away with ourselves when we start to rely on our own power (or maybe they're just gimmicks anyway).

In my days of professional acting, one of my coaches would often shout out in the middle of an intense scene, "Don't just do something, stand there!" The idea was that to really allow the text to come alive, just doing stuff makes everything so frenetic. It distracts the audience from what's really going on.

When it comes to those times of challenge when at the end of our rope, remember what Scripture tells us in Exodus 14:14, "The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to keep still." What an incredible promise—incredible but frustrating. God doesn't need our help. It's the Gospel of the counter-intuitive: greatest becoming least and least becoming greatest. We strive so hard to do the right things by our own power in ministry. Well…"don't just do something, stand there!"

So then, why do ministry at all? If God doesn't need us and our gifts, why are we here with these kids in the first place?

That's the amazing part of what God does with power. Christ actually allows us to be a part of what God's already doing! God doesn't need us, but we have the honor as mere humans to be involved in the divine work Christ is already doing to redeem the world. It's so not about us. Can you imagine what a risk it is for God to use us—who are so imperfect?

When was the last time you had a raw moment with a student? You know what I mean: it's six o'clock in the morning and you (along with everyone else) have incredibly bad breath. Your hair is matted and greasy. You have three days worth of dust caked on your skin. Your arms and legs are aching from the house you were building the day before; the time when you were at your rawest.

That's when ministry happens. That's when the kids see you as you really are and they can become as they really are—that's when you become a window for them to look through and see what Christ is doing in your life, and what Christ can do in theirs. Your façade has completely disappeared. You've become raw and transparent. You've been removed from the world (as you know it), with all its pressure to perform and its power plays. There's nothing you can really "do." It's just you. No roles to play or people to impress. When it comes to ministry, that's when we really fly.

The same is true with those to whom we minister. We need to create spaces for our students where they can just stop—a time where they can be freed of their expected roles.

I do a series of spiritual practices with my youth group called Magnum Mysterium. This is an evening where we don't learn something as much as experience something. We actually do spiritual practices rather than talk about them. The time starts and ends the same way each time we meet so there's a sense of ritual. We have an opening moment with the lighting of candles on the floor and sitting in a circle around them in a silent listening posture waiting for God. The middle portion of Magnum Mysterium is different each night. One time we'll do meditative practices on a scripture passage, the next time we'll do a form of Taizé prayer, another time we'll practice silence.

This is a scary time for us leaders who like to be in control. You see before any of the students show up for the evening, I pray through the space asking the Holy Spirit to take over. I consciously ask God to be in charge and take my control out of the equation. Then, with the amount of silence and waiting on God, there's nothing I can do but just be and allow the Holy Spirit to fill the room with power. I hate letting go, but that's when ministry happens.

Magnum has caught on like wildfire. One of my students recently articulated one of the main reasons I believe this is the case. He's a baseball player, very active, has an overly programmed schedule (like most of our young people), and not exactly the emotionally expressive type. After one of our Magnum meetings, he pulled me aside and said with passion, "I really love this stuff! It's the only time in my entire week that I just get to stop." I thought to myself, "Frankly, this is the only time in my week I get to stop too!"

We need to create space to stop for our students as well as ourselves. We need to allow them to give up their power. It's freeing. It's a gift. It's dying to self and allowing God to enter in divine power, which is made perfect in weakness. Even students need to know who's really in control of their lives and allow their powerlessness to be made perfect in God's power.

The best way to teach them is to model this powerlessness in our own lives. They desperately need this space to stop, and we have a responsibility to show them in our lives and even intentionally help them create that space for God's power.

Remember what the psalmist wrote, "Be still, and know that I am God!" (Psalm 46:10a) When flying on a plane or in our exhaustion or just in those moments when we get to stop, we find that we are still—sometimes we have no choice but to be still. We come into a moment of powerlessness—no striving or pushing anything. In those moments, God makes Christ known to us and to those around us.

It's fun to entertain our teens, and it might even get them in the door. But the time for real ministry is when we're powerless and imperfect…and let it show. It's when we're honest with them, with ourselves, and with God. It's ministry in the raw—and that's why I love flying.

Here are some power questions to help you journal about giving up power in ministry and surrendering to God's power:

What power pressure do you feel in your ministry? Do you put this pressure on yourself, does a supervisor do this, or both?

Why does your church have you as a youth leader? Is it to provide dynamic programming or to walk alongside what God is already doing?

Why does God have you as a youth leader? Is this different from the reason the church hired you?

When in your week do you get a chance to just stop? Try scheduling this time in with intentionality.

Planning is always good, but how do you let go of it and consciously seek the Holy Spirit's guidance in the midst of your ministry moments?

When are those moments where you find yourself running around frenetically trying hard to make things happen? Is it easy for you to stop doing something and "just stand there"?

Mark McIlraith, a graduate of Princeton Theological Seminary, is the pastor for families and youth at Whitworth Community Presbyterian Church in Spokane, Wash. Formerly, he was at the First Presbyterian Church of Colorado Springs. Mark and his wife, Paige, have two preschoolers, Aiden and Kenna.