2010: A Year of Youth Work in Preview

January: Apple launches some new product or something or other, in the rush to secure one, which is definitely needed because it will definitely make you definitely more relevant to the young people, you crush four other local youth workers and two curates. On the surface you apologise, but on the inside you secretly hope their young people will now come to your youth group. On the inside of that you hope they won’t come this week, because you’d like a quiet night so you can play with your new iWhatchamaclit.

February: Valentines day, no-one turns up. You panic, have all the young people got girlfriends and boyfriends that they are on dates with? No, it just turns out that when you do a talk on dating and have to say the word “sex” you get all embarrassed and go a bit red and stumble over the words, and this year none of your young people want to put you through that again.

March: The Anglican Church schisms! Matters of biblical interpretation, sexuality, and gender are put aside as the church divides into two clear camps. Those against the use of “your mother” jokes in family services are best represented by the Archbishop of Canterbury in his masterpiece of a sermon on “Ephesians 5:4”. The Archbishop of York in Exile surprises everyone by saying that he’s heard that sermon before, apparently from your mother.

April: The new Doctor Who series starts and your youth group is empty for two Saturdays in a row. You decide that the time of people not Jesus pretending to be Lord of time is enough, and embark on creating your own time-travel device to go back in time and replace the Doctor with a more wholesome programme. After three failed attempts the flux capacitor finally works and you return back to 2010 triumphant only to realise it was due to your meddling in the past that Torchwood now exists.

May: Has a bank holiday at the start AND the end of it. TRY TO REMEMBER THIS THIS YEAR.

June: The third Twilight film comes out and your youth group is empty for three Friday nights in a row. You decide that the time of immoral films is enough, and embark on filming your own wholesome teenage drama sensation. Sevens weeks of non-stop work later and the rough cut sitting in iMovie looks remarkably like High School Music 2. According to the one young person still coming to the youth group you drag yourself away from your film to run, that’s the worst of the High School Musicals.

July: In a new record, it’s the 28th of July before you have to move youth club into a nearby dilapidated portacabin while the church repairs the damage caused while playing a messy wide-game in the vestry.

August: Soul Survivor only introduce one new song this year, which surely means that this year your youth group will definitely learn to play it well and also definitely not only play that one song…

September: Youth slang development suddenly takes a dramatic acceleration leaving you and your young people baffled with what everyone else is saying. The only person who can cope with this is the sixty-eight year old grandmother who volunteers on a Thursday, who it turned out never knew what anyone was saying anyway.

October: Thousands of pilgrims flock to see the famous marble carved Deepdale Mary weep tears of blood. The local church is thrown into controversy when it’s revealed by the press that it’s all a scam to boost tourism and tomato juice sales. The Bishop of Sheffield gives a sermon on the evils of using the holy mother like that. He’s welcomed into the Your Mum’s Church of England the next day; the Bishop of Sheffield in Exile saying ruefully “it was just too easy to pass by”.

November: Sudden heavy snow leads to the closure of all roads in you area during youth club, and none of the parents can arrive to pick up their kids. Stuck between sending your kids home in the arctic conditions or having them stay over night without parental consent you start to panic. Fortunately, you’re still meeting in the dilapidated portacabin and over the last two months the young people have built up a level of cold tolerance that even an eskimo would be proud of. They all skip home cheerfully.

December: Former young people David Cameron and Gordon Brown are shocked to find themselves barricaded in John Lewis fighting off hordes of the undead in the much over-hyped zombie apocalypse of 2010. Striking up an amusing antagonistic buddy relationship, they battle their way through to Waitrose and escape through the “buy now pick up later” pick-up point. When asked by the press how they managed to get through, David Cameron responds by saying “well, he was only three days from retirement, and I knew I he couldn’t buy it now.” The interview fades out as Gordon Brown jovially wrestles him to the floor, breaking his now best-friends fibula in three places with a well placed boot.