cooking marshmallows over burning woods

The Slow Burn: Lessons in Youth Discipleship

By The Rev. Francis Delaplain, Hay River

I t was a Monday night around 7:00 p.m., and we were seated in the sanctuary at St. Andrew’s for our weekly youth meeting. Many of our teens have little or no previous church experience, so questions often arise during our discussions. That night one of them asked, “Why do we worship Jesus if he died on the cross?” I was getting ready to answer when another youth—who had been with us for our series on the Creed—spoke up and said, “Because he rose on the third day and ascended into heaven.” I was shocked. Something had stuck.

Another evening in the summer, we were at the ballpark. One teen jokingly said to another, “You’re useless out there.” The other immediately replied, “That’s not what Francis said at youth. He said I’m on purpose, and I have purpose.” Moments like these have reminded me what a gift this ministry is.

For over three years now, we have been gathering at St. Andrew’s Anglican Church in Hay River as a youth group. It has been a joy to build meaningful relationships with these young people and to watch them develop a sense of their own Christian faith and identity. The lessons I’ve learned from walking with them have profoundly shaped my vision of discipleship and evangelism. I hope some of these reflections are helpful.

Make Space for Chaos

“Where there are no oxen, the stalls are clean, but from the strength of an ox come abundant harvests.” Proverbs 14:4

I intentionally leave a lot of room for chaos and connection. Out of our two-hour meetings, only ten to fifteen minutes are devoted to teaching. The rest of the time is games, baking, snacks, and simply visiting. This creates a space that feels like theirs, where they have the freedom to interact naturally and form friendships. These bonds have become the soil in which faith can grow.
There have been times when this approach has felt frustrating. I’ve had to abandon the lesson entirely on a few occasions—especially during exam season when everyone’s mental capacity is drained. Things rarely go exactly as planned. One night, when a couple of youth were overflowing with energy, I invited them to act out the Bible story while I narrated it. It wasn’t our most polished evening—but all was not lost. Out of this messy, joyful chaos, a sense of ownership has emerged. Several youth now help with our Sunday school program, run the media during church services, and volunteer at community events. Because of their involvement, new families have joined our Sunday school and become part of our church community. I used to get hung up on trying to teach too much content. Solid biblical teaching is essential, of course. But I’ve learned to keep it simple— rooted in the BCP fundamentals: baptism, prayer, the creeds, the Ten Commandments, and the core stories of Scripture. Not much prep is required, and the clarity helps us stay centered on the basics of the Christian faith. And from this simple, sometimes unpredictable rhythm, I have witnessed genuine spiritual growth. They show me Bible verses on their phone screens. They pull up apps they are using to receive daily Scripture readings. They ask questions—good questions—because they feel safe and involved. What began as simple hope and chaos has become a space where faith is forming, relationships are deepening, and young people are discovering that they are known, loved, and called by God.

Be Their Cheerleader

“We were delighted to share with you not only the gospel of God but our very selves.” 1 Thess. 2:8

During these years, I have attended countless soccer, volleyball, hockey, and basketball games. I have given out more high-fives than in the rest of my life combined. I love these young people, and I want them to know—deeply—that I am behind them. I am a big fan of what they are doing. Whenever possible, we attend events together as a group, making signs and cheering loudly for our youth members. And be specific. Don’t just say – you were awesome – as often as you can observe something specific they’ve done well and let them know that.

Rich Mullins once described Jesus blessing children by saying that Jesus did what blesses children: he laughed with them, he was playful with them, he delighted in them. How do we bless young people? We show them that they matter. We make sure they know that we love having them around—that their noise and their mess are not inconveniences but gifts, signs of life and joy in our church.

At the end of July, we hosted a youth camp in Hay River. Thirteen local youth attended. We played games, ate good food, sat around the fire, and held lakeshore devotions. Our theme that weekend was identity: the big idea was that God’s particular love for his people gives us our identity. Much of our time was simply spent visiting. We heard stories of new relationships, favorite music and movies, and lengthy debates about the best way to cook a marshmallow.

One evening, Tori—the other camp counsellor—had to run into town briefly. She had been staying in the girls’ cabin, and while I was tending the fire, a few of the girls began talking about her. “We like having Tori as our counsellor,” they said. “She’s interested in what we have to say. She likes talking to us.” I was grateful for the insight—and for Tori’s example. She engaged meaningfully in conversations about relationships, life, career, and friendship. She asked good questions. She listened to them. And the youth noticed. It reminded me again that one of the deepest ministries we can offer young people is simply to show up—to be genuinely interested, to be their cheerleader, to remind them that they are seen, known, and loved.

Be Alright With a Slow Burn

“The kingdom of God is as if a man should scatter seed on the ground; the seed sprouts and grows; he knows not how. First the blade, then the ear, then the full grain in the ear.” Mark 4:26-29

Most of the progress we have seen has come simply from consistency and patience. I didn’t have grand expectations when I started the youth group. I only felt that the youth needed to hear a message of hope and purpose. So I started—and we kept at it, as often as we could. Over time, their involvement and enthusiasm have grown. Conversations have deepened. It has become a place they want to be.

In discipleship, we often begin with a specific goal. We want to teach ten core principles, or we want to catechize with a particular curriculum. These are good things, and they have their place. But we should be cautious not to fall in love with programs or polished strategies. In the church, it’s easy to value what can be measured and quantified—attendance, retention, curriculum milestones—when the more important work often happens in ways we cannot tally.

Relationships take time. They ebb and flow. They resist tidy metrics. But what cannot ebb or flow is our hospitality, our joy in serving them, and our willingness to show up week after week. That kind of steady presence is what slowly draws young people into trust, into deeper questions, and ultimately into faith.
Being patient also allows you to discover your own gifts. I’ve learned what works and what doesn’t—slowly, sometimes painfully. I remember one week I spent a long time designing a game for the start of the evening. Once they began playing, their energy became so wild that I couldn’t pull them back for the teaching time. That night I learned an important lesson: talk first, game second. I have a limited ability to regain control of a room once the games begin. Over time, I’ve tested ideas, readjusted, and tried again. That ongoing refinement has been part of the gift.

I know that discipleship is deeply shaped by our region and context—what works in Hay River may look different elsewhere. Yet I do think there are transferable lessons. Hold programs and agendas loosely. Prioritize relationship and connection first. Trust that the slow burn, sustained by patience, faithfulness, and the presence of Christ, will bear fruit in God’s time.

As I look back on these years, I am grateful. Grateful for the noise, the chaos, the late-night conversations, the unexpected questions, and the slow but steady signs of faith taking root. Youth ministry has reminded me that God is patient, that grace unfolds over time, and that love expressed through presence can change a life. My prayer is that our young people would continue to discover the hope, purpose, and identity that Christ gives—and that we, as a church, would keep making space for them to grow.

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