What Day One of School Ministry Looks Like
At 9:00 a.m. on October 7, the streets of Sin El Fil (a Beirut suburb) carried the restless, familiar charge of a new year. Outside the Nazarene Evangelical School, morning traffic blended well with the urban scene, but inside the main chapel, something else was happening. Middle schoolers wore matching green school shirts while seated side-by-side on long, polished wooden pews facing the wood paneling and stone-textured accents centered around a tall white cross.
For Youth for Christ Lebanon. School Ministry is our oldest and most enduring footprint. And, on campus, chapels are the doorstep to everything else we do with teenage students. It leads to recess conversations, bold “Dare to Ask” live exchanges, evening worship nights, outdoor trips, discipleship groups, and life-changing summer camps. But on that day, it began right on those wooden benches.
Elie, one of our youth workers, took the stage. Known for his quick wit and casual warmth, he broke the ice. He introduced the School Ministry team, inviting the crowd to clap for each member, before transitioning into the heart of the message: For the next 35 weeks, every single school day, chapel would be a constant rhythm in their lives.
“Being a student is hard,” he said, nodding in shared sympathy with the crowd. It’s not just the schoolwork; it’s the chaotic drag of early mornings. He reminisced about his own childhood mornings while his mother urged him to hurry up, and then drew a vivid picture of some of his high school teachers, leading up to the Teacher who did things entirely differently.
Opening to John 1:39, Elie unpacked Jesus’ answer to the curious not-yet disciples who stopped Him on the road to ask what He was about. He simply said: “Come and see.” Over the next 35 weeks, students would have that same invitation extended to them during daily chapels.
Once the middle school chapel wrapped, the team gathered their gear and began a 10-minute walk along the vibrant urban stretch connecting Sin El Fil and Burj Hammoud. As motorbikes zipped past, the team reflected on the first chapel and prepared for the next.
They arrived at the school’s newly acquired secondary school building, which now houses grades 8 through 12. Tucked away, they found a heavy brown door. The school courtyard carried a distinct charm: vivid blue flooring underfoot, framed by cream and tall, dark forest green structural columns.
Students gathered casually in this outdoor space. The indoor chapel hall was undergoing construction and would not be ready for another 10 days. It was a striking visual contrast to the first chapel. Instead of straight rows of wooden pews facing a front stage, the older students, dressed in their green shirts, scattered themselves naturally, sitting on steps, leaning against green columns, perched on wooden benches, or gathered right on the blue floor.
Out under the open sky, Elie’s energy ramped up. The high school chapel took on an interactive, theatrical feel. Standing in the center of the crowd with his arms raised high to demonstrate, teens giggled as they watched. To illustrate the morning grind, Elie called Joe, another youth worker, to act as a wooden desk, resting a phone on his back. Joe then transformed into a noisy PlayStation, complete with echo sound effects, while yet another youth worker, Sandra, stepped in as an angry mother shouting from across the room.
As the laughter faded, Elie wrapped up: “At school, you don’t get to choose your teachers. In life, you do. So why choose Jesus as your Teacher? Like any good teacher, He has expectations for His students. But Jesus doesn’t just tell us how to live and leave us to figure it out on our own. He walks with us, teaches us, and helps us grow to become more like Him.”
The moment prayer ended, the old-fashioned brass school bell rang, and balls flew in every direction: volleyballs, footballs, tennis balls, and basketballs. Groups of girls gathered on wooden benches along the side, chatting and sharing laughs.
Rather than sticking together as an isolated team, the YFC staff scattered into the crowd.
Some jumped straight into a basketball game with a group of guys. Others sat down on the side benches, leaning into conversations with several high school girls. And a crowd of teenage boys circled around Elie, bombarding him with questions.
The chapel stage (whether a formal pulpit or a blue courtyard floor) is only the doorway. Then the real work happens on the asphalt: listening, playing, walking alongside teenagers, and earning the right to be heard in their lives.
Walking around during the break, we chatted with a few of the students about what stuck with them from the morning. One girl said: “We don’t have to climb the ladder on our own. Other teachers expect it, but Jesus comes alongside us to help.”
As recess ended and the students headed back to class, the team gathered their things and began the ten-minute walk back to the primary building, using the time to debrief.
35 weeks lie ahead of these students. But as the school year takes off, one thing is clear: through every chapel, the invitation remains open and ready: Come and see.