Immerse | A Journal of Faith, Life, and Youth Ministry

Going Deeper With Sarah Arthur’s: “The Art of Improvisation”

by Jake Bouma on September 12th, 2011 -- filed under Story

If you’ve been in youth ministry for longer than a week, you’ve almost certainly been in a situation where something you planned didn’t go quite right. Suddenly, you find yourself with an extra half hour of time to fill, and  you improvise an activity or lesson on the spot. I have been in these situations numerous times, and sometimes they have totally flopped, and other times they’ve been tremendously successful. This type of “oh no” improvisation is decidedly what Sarah Arthur is not talking about. For her, improvisation is a theological concept, and it takes practice to become proficient. “We need to school ourselves in the art of improvisation,” she says.

About two paragraphs into the article, I stopped midsentence, put in my headphones and scrolled through iTunes until I landed on jazz pianist Keith Jarrett’s 2006 album The Carnegie Hall Concert. Jarrett is a living jazz legend who is widely known for playing sold-out concerts consisting entirely of improvised piano compositions. On The Carnegie Hall Concert, for example, the first 10 tracks are titled “Part I,” “Part II,” and so on, because the music itself didn’t exist until Jarrett’s fingers coaxed it out of the piano right then and there, on the fly. I thought it would be particularly fitting to finish out Arthur’s article while Jarrett’s virtuosic display of improvisation graced my ears.

In addition to the music itself, which is almost hypnotic, there is another aspect to the The Carnegie Hall Concert that makes it compelling: the…

Going Deeper With Brandon Winstead’s “Discovering God’s Grace”

by Nathan Didlake on September 12th, 2011 -- filed under Theology

I am woefully afraid of board games. My idea of a good time is sitting back with my pals, eating, talking and laughing. But when someone brings out a board game, my lungs collapse. My skin goes pallid. And my stomach wrenches into a putrid explosion of awful. Every part of me wants to escape, to disappear. And if I am forced, coerced or generally expected to play, I find a way to lose quickly and exploit it.

I have ADHD. When I sit, my leg bounces. When I stand, I glide about. Reading is a chore, but I can do it. I can focus in conversation. I can even listen to a four-hour lecture and get by (if I’ve taken notes and brought a recorder). But pull out board games, and you will see my ADHD flare like the blueberry girl on the old Willy Wonka film. They are the only things that scare me in a group setting, and I avoid them at all costs.

How could a guy like that write anything valuable concerning a theology of play? Like Brandon, I wish to understand how God made me and others. Working with youth calls me to understand the world around me, to accept mysteries where they are present and to inquire deeply into things as simple and complex as play. I agree with Brandon’s critique of our performance-based society, the need for students to be free of those pressures and the merciful nature of Jesus to lay…

Going Deeper With Brad Griffin’s “Sticky Faith”

by Patti Gibbons on September 12th, 2011 -- filed under Church

Looking around the congregation during the course of my first months on staff, I noticed that families didn’t sit together for the service. Children sat with their friends, while adults rocked babies not their own and elder adults shepherded toddlers trying to make their escape down the aisle. This congregation was raising its children together. As the pastor who urged me to check out this church said to me, “The big ones care for the littler ones right down the line.” It was remarkable.

Why was this church so different? What made these adults invest in children who were not theirs? Who trained them to step into the mix of one another’s lives? This church had no programmed men’s or women’s ministries, and youth ministry was brand new.

Sunday school for all ages occurred before the main service; children’s church only met during the sermon time. If babies or toddlers made noise in the service, people smiled. If the children ran, skipped or otherwise acted like children, no one complained. If teenagers were gifted in music, prayer or service, they were invited into situations to offer those gifts to the congregation. This church put feet to the scripture that says, “Let no one look down on you because you are young.”

When the young people I observed in those early months grew, graduated and headed for college, they not only found places to worship; they stayed involved in ministry.

This small, urban congregation was marked by trust in one another.…

Going Deeper With Rustin Smith’s St. Johnny and the Artist’s Pilgrimage

by Aaron Mitchum on September 12th, 2011 -- filed under Arts and Culture

Smith identifies the calling of the Christian minister as that of an artist and the craft as that of forming human lives toward their intended shape. This is done through the use of mediums like sermons, meetings and questions, all undergirded by the Holy Spirit. Then, putting his finger on the integral need of this “communal artist,” Smith poses the question, “How do we become inspirited, inspired?” His answer comes in a three-part harmony articulated mainly through the device of story.

Getting Back

Renting the story of Johnny Cash, Smith highlights how that great artist’s journey is one of self-discovery with extreme ups and downs. For Smith, getting back is about re-finding oneself outside the narrative surrounding oneself.

I resonated deeply with this idea. I was struck with the realization that getting back is not something we do just once or even annually, like a checkup at the doctor. We are always getting back. Even while we’re getting this and getting going, in a way, we’re still getting back. It’s something we struggle with every day. Getting back is the means of grace that breathes into us a renewed sense of God-filled identity.

But, as seen in the story of Johnny Cash, getting back isn’t fully done in isolation. It requires community. Often this looks like someone calling out the shining image of God in us that we are too bogged down to see. Or perhaps more accurately it’s someone else creating the space needed for us to hear God…