I recently found myself in a Karaoke bar in London. This wouldn’t be my usual night out of choice, but I was up for the experience, if not a little nervous about having to perform power ballads in front of family. The thing is none of us could sing (except my sister in-law) and I couldn’t work out how the evening would work out? No one was going to want to hear us strangling Celine Dion or butchering ABBA! What I discovered was the joy of just being together and singing for the joy of it.Not because the noise we made was perfect, but because it was an expression of our love for the songs we’d chosen to mutilate and the joy of sharing the experience together.
There was a time when singing was something almost everyone did even out of tune. Families sang around pianos in living rooms, at parties and in pubs . They sang loudly, quietly, and often badly. And it didn’t matter, because it was never about the performance. The point was just being together. Somewhere along the way, that changed.
When professional singers became more visible on TV and Radio, people quietly decided, “I can’t sing.” Not because they actually couldn’t, but because they compared ourselves to experts. So they stopped joining in. Singing became something other people do for us, rather than something we do with and for each other.
And when that happened, we lost more than a few dodgy notes.
We lost something communal. When singing shifted from something shared to something performed, people withdrew. You either sounded good enough or you stayed silent. We became observers
I wonder if that same subtle shift has happened in church life when it comes to young people?
When Youth Work Became “Someone Else’s Job”
Churches didn’t always have youth workers. Children and young people were part of the life of the church family. Multiple adults knew their names. People noticed when they were missing. Faith was modelled in everyday, imperfect ways.
Then professional youth work grew, which in many ways was a gift. Trained, passionate people gave time, energy, and creativity to working with young people. But somewhere along the line, a dangerous assumption crept in:
“They’re better at this than I am.”
“That’s their job, not mine.”
So we stepped back. Just like with singing, many of us didn’t stop caring, we just stopped participating. Youth work became siloed, it happens elsewhere in youth groups, while the wider church carries on separately. The sense of shared responsibility and shared relationship has weakened. We didn’t mean to lose family. But maybe we have.
Imperfect Involvement Is Better Than Perfect Distance
Families are noisy, awkward, repetitive, and often out of tune. And that’s exactly why they matter. Young people don’t need perfect programs or polished leaders as much as they need presence. Adults who show up. People who know them beyond a rota. A community willing to be involved even if it feels clumsy.
Learning to Sing Badly Again
Maybe what we need in church and in community is not more professionalism, but more participation. To sing even when we’re off-key. To show up even when we feel unqualified. To be involved even when we might get it wrong.
Youth work, like singing, was never meant to be a solo performance. It’s meant to be a communal, relational, and shared experience. So let’s learn to sing badly again. Let’s rediscover the courage to join in, not because we’re experts, but because we all need to play our part in the family. And when young people see that kind of community: imperfect, honest, and inclusive, they won’t just attend church. They’ll find a home.
Author: John Peddie – Head of Youth Ministry CYFC