Please note: The reflections and opinions expressed in this piece are those of the author and are shared in the spirit of personal faith and contemplation. They do not necessarily reflect the official views of the Diocese of Palmerston North.
Reflections from the LifeTeen Leadership Convention
On the weekend of 13-15 March I had the privilege of presenting two workshops at the LifeTeen Leadership Convention — a gathering of Catholic youth ministry leaders from across the country, all of them pouring themselves out for the young people in their care.
I came home reflective. In the room were leaders who are genuinely trying — pouring themselves out for the young people in their care, showing up week after week. And underneath the busyness, there was a quiet hunger. Not for a better programme. For something more real in their own lives with God.
I want to share a little of what we explored together — not as a report, but as a reflection. Because I think the questions we sat with at the Convention are the same questions many of us carry here in our parishes and communities.
It’s Personal
The first workshop was called It’s Personal, and it was built around a simple but uncomfortable question: is your relationship with Jesus actually personal?
We use that phrase a lot. Personal relationship with Christ. We say it to our teens, we write it into homilies, we put it in parish vision statements. But if we’re honest — it applies to all of us. Young people and leaders alike. Any of us can find that our own prayer life has quietly become distant. Dutiful. Sporadic. Anything but personal.
The young people in our pews hear us say the words. The question is whether they can see it in us.
We explored three levels of conversation with God — drawing on the work of researcher Judith Glaser, whose framework maps beautifully onto the interior life. Most of us live at Level I: transactional prayer, where we tell God our news and ask for things, but keep Him at arm’s length. A few of us have moved into Level II: we wrestle with God, we advocate, we listen — but we’re still steering toward our own outcome. And then there is Level III: transformational prayer, where we stop reaching for answers and simply open ourselves to receive Him. Not our will, but yours.
That’s the prayer Jesus prays in the garden of Gethsemane — and it’s the prayer we’re all being invited into.
One line from the workshop stayed with me after I gave it: you cannot lead someone to a place you have never been. The young people in our care will only go as deep in prayer as we do. That’s not a shaming thought. It’s an invitation.
Built for More
The second workshop asked a different question, but one that runs alongside the first: how do we discover what God’s vision is for our youth ministry?
So many of the leaders I met weren’t lacking in effort or love. What many of them were missing was vision. Not a mission statement or a strategic plan — but a God-given sense of direction that could hold them when the busyness threatened to swallow everything whole.
We walked the Road to Emmaus together — Luke 24. Two disciples, leaving Jerusalem, confused and grieving, carrying the wreckage of their hopes. And Jesus walks alongside them. He doesn’t wait until they have it together. He simply comes alongside.
I think that’s where a lot of youth ministry leaders are right now. Walking. Carrying more than they let on. And the good news of Emmaus is that Jesus is already on the road with them — whether they recognise him or not.
From that passage, we drew three movements: walking with Jesus in prayer, opening our hearts honestly before God, and letting Scripture set something on fire within us. Vision for ministry doesn’t come from a whiteboard. It comes from staying close enough to Jesus that you begin to see what he sees.
What I came home with
More than anything, I came home with a renewed conviction that the health of youth ministry depends on the interior life of the people leading it.
We can give our young people excellent programmes, powerful retreats, and beautifully prepared talks. But what they’re actually watching for is something they can’t quite name — whether the adults around them have met someone real. Whether faith costs us something. Whether prayer is a habit or a lifeline.
St. John Vianney wrote that prayer is nothing else but union with God. Not technique. Not performance. Union. That’s what we were reaching for in both workshops — and that’s what I believe the young people of our Diocese are waiting to see in us.
If any of what I’ve shared resonates with you — whether you lead a youth group, a confirmation programme, or simply care about the next generation — I’d love to keep the conversation going. The workshops live on as resources, and I’m happy to share them.
But more than resources, we need each other. We need communities of leaders who are honest about their prayer life, willing to go deeper, and committed to bringing the young people in their care with them.
That’s the invitation. It’s personal. And we are built for more.