A parent complains about a recent youth group event; how do you respond?

Michelle Lang

How could she complain? I was serving with my whole heart, and the kids were clearly receptive to what the program was offering. They were coming to twice-a-week Bible studies and drama rehearsals. They were in a healthy and positive environment. There were no improprieties. Kids were learning, growing, and having a great time. How could she possibly complain?

I immediately went to my mentor and tearfully pled for him to agree with me and my work and to give me a good comeback to the complainer. He didn’t. He taught me this lesson : “Even if a parent never shows up, never volunteers, or never donates to the cause, and even if what they say is flat-out wrong, you must always give value to their input.” Bewildered, I asked why. His echoing answer was, “Because these are their kids, not yours!”

It’s a message I got early, and it’s also a lesson that taught me that it’s better to prepare for complaints than it is to whine about them. Here are some tips for that:

Know your vision and mission. In the event of criticism, you can at least explain yourself and your choice clearly. Sometimes (many times) people just don’t know what you’re doing or why you’re doing it. Many have antiquated views about what youth ministry is or should be, and their complaints and suggestions aren’t with the understanding that youth ministry has evolved and requires a different strategy than it may have when they were young. When you can’t explain why you do what you do, then it’s probable a confrontation will be negative, not because what you’re doing is wrong but simply because you’re not prepared to explain it or support it.

Ask for input (before, during, and after). As you craft a program, it’s good to ask for input from your pastor (to see if what you’re doing matches the overall church vision); your kids (to see if what you’re doing even matters or is exciting to them); your volunteers ( to make sure you have enough buy-in to pull things off at a high level of quality); and your parents (again, to get buy-in and perhaps a heads up on things you don’t think about in your efforts to just be the cool youth pastor). Now, here’s the hard part: When the majority of input says that your idea has flaws, listen! Don’t just keep plowing ahead. You’re not asking for input just to pacify people’s propensity to propose perspectives (that was fun). You’re asking so that what you’re producing truly meets a felt need and that you meet that need in the best way possible.

Accept correction and criticism as care. Some people are wired to complain or offer unsolicited correction, even when they act like they don’t want to. How many times have we heard Sister Jones say, “I don’t mean to criticize you, but…”? Here’s a skill that I promise will save you lots of aggravation. Train yourself to hear them saying “I correct/criticize because I care.” Then practice zooming in on what the true concern is. Many times in the loudness of protest, we miss the soundness of people’s messages.

For example, an elder woman who was raised on wearing dresses to church may complain about the young girls wearing pants and the boys wearing hats. What she may be saying is that she cares about teaching the kids to respect the house of God, in their actions, activities, and their dress. If you can assure her that that is happening or that it’s being taught, then her complaint is heard, and quite possibly, she becomes your ally with the other seniors in the congregation. But if all you do is complain about her complaining, then nothing resolves.

At the risk of sounding mean, let me say this: Anybody who needs constant accolades, positive reinforcement, or unbridled support should stay miles away from youth ministry. For every person who loves what you do, there will be another who doesn’t and doesn’t mind telling you. In spite of that, I will be the first to say that those of us called to youth ministry get the humbling honor of walking with a population of people through what many would call the most pivotal years of their lives. It would be arrogant for us to think an assignment that great would come without some challenge. Go forth!

Kara Powell

But more often than not, who’s wrong is not so cut and dried. The parent has a good point, but there is also some validity behind my actions. For instance, I remember a couple inviting me out to lunch after church one day to talk to me about the youth ministry. It turns out they had a much more specific agenda. They felt like we were drifting away from the Bible because we were introducing more experiential learning into Sunday school. In some ways, they were right; we emphasized actual Scripture verses less than before. But I felt confident that the experiential exercises we were implementing would actually produce greater fruit, especially when done in tandem with particular Scripture passages.

In our Sticky Faith Cohorts at the Fuller Youth Institute, Dr. Scott Cormode from Fuller Seminary has helped churches understand that when they encounter resistance to change, it’s because “people don’t fear change. They fear loss.” So when parents respond negatively, one of the first questions you and I need to ask ourselves is: What loss are these parents fearing?

In the case of this couple at lunch, they feared that the way that they had learned to follow Jesus as teenagers themselves was somehow being questioned or that their kids would deem them “old school.” Part of what I needed to do at that lunch was hear their concerns and try to ask a few additional questions to get at the deeper, more underlying concerns. Only then could the parents and I have a healthy, productive conversation—one in which I was able to share about some shifts in culture and pedagogy and simultaneously show them the way Jesus himself engaged in experiential learning.

We didn’t walk away from that lunch in 100% agreement, but at least we felt like we were on the same side and could trust each other.

I wish I could say I have responded this way all the time, but the reality is that sometimes parents catch me on bad days; days when I’m tempted to lash back at them with some sort of complaint about their parenting, or their children. But what normally helps me bite my tongue and come up with a better response is that I truly like the parents of teenagers. And, as I remind myself, they love (and in general, know) their students way more than I do.

Josh Griffin

If the complaint comes via voicemail… Listen carefully to the voicemail, then shake it off and go back to relaxing. A voicemail tells you that the person is 50+ years old, and to help them take a technological baby step, you need to delay returning the call for at least 48 hours. Unless, of course, they name-drop a key elder, deacon, or even hint they might go over your head to the senior pastor. Deduct 1 hour from the projected response time for each time they cry or scream in the message.

If the complaint comes via written letter… Don't even open it for a few days. Snail mail, really? Did someone use a Portal gun and drop me back in 1974? After a few days, simply toss the letter in the trash then claim it must have been "lost in the mail," and when you see them across the pews, just say you are so sorry you didn't respond earlier, but you had no idea.

If the complaint comes via text message… Quickly reply with a short apology and promise to make everything right within 24 hours. This is to honor a parent who knows how to text and is also savvy enough to spread some serious thumbs down on social media if you don't jump into action.

Next, make sure you accept absolutely no responsibility for what happened. Always make sure you have a scapegoat handy (a college-age hipster volunteer will typically do), and be ready with some key nonverbal signals to indicate that the situation was out of your hands and that you are totally disappointed too. Here are a few quick excuses to have in your back pocket if you do end up actually meeting with a parent (you must have run into them at the RedBox kiosk; rookie):

"I wish I had been made aware of this on the night of the event." This clever redirection places the blame on the person who is bringing you the bad news only now, more than 48 hours after the event is over. "I'm sure that kid was a bully," or, "I guess we'll never know the truth now" are solid follow-up lines. The haze of overnighter memories after just a few days is a perfect cover to deflect responsibility.

"I'll make sure those people are dealt with immediately." Was it your choice to play the R-rated movie on the bus? Was it your call to duct-tape her freshman son to the ceiling? Who knows? This classic line makes sure the parent will never know either. The straw-man tactic wins more than Jeremy Lin. The parents know someone is going to get hammered for this evil with which the youth pastor sympathizes. Who is that person? No one knows for sure.

Third, be sure to drive a wedge between the parents, their teenagers, and your ministry. Do your best to undermine the parent whenever possible. Roll your eyes when the dad isn't looking. Exchange a knowing glance at the student to show how out of touch their parents are being right now. You know best; just pacify the parents long enough to get them off your back, and then you can move on to planning The Next Big Thing That Will Change The World Overnighter Extravaganza (TM)—TNBTTWCTWOE, for short.

Hopefully by now you get the idea. Do the opposite of everything you’ve just read, and you'll handle complaints well. They are inevitable, a tough but necessary part of your growth as a leader and part of the process of raising teenagers. Jump in quick, take responsibility, and repair the damage. Blessings on the journey.