When the reality globe-trekking show The Amazing Race was just getting started, I downloaded and filled out a contestant application. Derek (my co-worker) and I would have made an extraordinary team. He's the adrenaline-seeking, never-sleeping, "C'mon! C'mon! C'mon!" high-energy, hands-on guy. I'm the scenario-assessing, cards-kept-close, pull-it-out-in-the-end, brilliant strategist guy.

Regardless of the fact that we never sent in the application (something about the "reality" of wanting to stay married to our wives, be parents to our kids, and not lose our jobs in the name of running around the world like crazed high schoolers), we found some of the questions on the application amusing. For example (and I'm not making these up):

• Have you been treated for any serious physical or mental illness(es) within the last three years?
• Have you ever been arrested?
• Have you ever been subject to any non-judicial disciplinary or administrative hearings or tribunal(s)?

Obviously, these were your basic liability release-type questions (my answer to all of which, by the way, was "no"); however, there were other inquiries further down in the application that we found a bit more intriguing. For instance:

• List three adjectives that best describe you.
• What are your phobias?
• What is your primary motivation for being on the show? What is your secondary motivation for being on the show?

How appropriate! The show's producers (knowing that their show's audience was as much interested in the contestants' personal interactions as in their pursuit of the game's outcome) thought it important to ask questions of character, of fear, and of motivation. Granted, much of their goal was to later exploit this information and pit combustible teams of contestants against one another in fear-inducing challenges to make good (okay, popular) television, but they at least got points in my book for asking and acting on what they discovered.

When it comes to working with volunteers, do we ask the right questions and act on what we discover? Are we taking the time to get below the surface of news, weather, and sports with our volunteers, to learn about who they are as people-and not just as volunteers? Unlike the aforementioned producers, our goal certainly is not to exploit their character, fears, or motivations. But shouldn't we be looking for ways to embrace and exhort them in the safety of biblical community? After all, if our ministry to volunteers doesn't deal with reality in their lives, just how real can our ministry actually be?

Volunteer Reality 101
Dealing with reality in the lives of volunteers will likely take a variety of shapes and forms, and will probably look different for every person. But whether we're working with older long-term volunteers who have been with us for years, or younger ones who might only be with us for a semester or two, initial questions pertaining to the realities of availability, gifts, desire, and experience have to be asked and answered honestly. This is Volunteer Reality 101.

But it's not just their work that needs to be discussed honestly; it's also their worth that would benefit from some genuine conversation. For instance, if a volunteer struggles with believing she is a valued part of our ministry, we might notice her "hiding"-showing up late or leaving early, merely as a way of gauging our awareness of what she's doing. Because perception can become reality, it's important for this volunteer to experience a gentle but firm intervention into her passive-aggressive behavior-one that affirms her contribution, reminds her of her commitment, and (perhaps most importantly) lets her know we care enough about both to bring it up.

While initially awkward, this kind of interaction can validate her worth as a person (for example, her identity-the lack of which was probably the source of her bad behavior in the first place), as well as spur her on to be more faithful in her role. In most instances (and particularly with younger volunteers), dealing in this kind of reality is what people need and want- even when they say they don't. Do we have the courage to be real and go there with them?

Grace + Truth = Reality
I have a theory that, in the body of Christ, we place far too much value on courtesy rather than honesty when it comes to ministering with and to fellow believers. Now I'm not suggesting we're to purposely be rude in our interactions with each other, but it seems to me we could all benefit from a few more honest conversations about our personal and spiritual growth.

While we may want to be known as grace-based leaders, leading truth -based ministries is just as important. Otherwise, we run the risk of becoming enablers of people's bad behavior, making excuses in the name of cheap grace, and never calling those we lead to a higher standard.

Paul says roughly the same thing to the Romans: "What shall we say, then? Shall we go on sinning so that grace may increase? By no means! We died to sin; how can we live in it any longer?" (Romans 6:1-2).

Indeed there is to be grace in our relationships with one another, but not for the sake of our grace reputation increasing. The truth is that in Christ we died to sin, and we need to be "gracefully honest" enough with each other to call out bad behavior excuses for what they are: excuses. Yes, grace grants forgiveness of sin, but truth keeps us from living in it over and over again. (Note: For more on this idea of our need for grace AND truth in relationships, read The Ascent of a Leader by Bill Thrall, Bruce McNichol, and John Lynch).

Getting Back to Reality
The producers of The Amazing Race asked some probing questions of their contestants. What questions are you asking (either formally or informally) of your volunteers, and what are you discerning about them as a result? Do you know what aspects of their individual characters need attention? Have you got a clue about what fears they're hiding? Can you identify what motivates them?

Is yours an environment of both grace and truth in dealing with reality? Do people speak the truth in love? Or are you, by refusing to risk or make time for the hard work of being real, reliving reruns from an older television show: Fantasy Island ?


Craig Dunham is co-author of TwentySomeone: Finding Yourself in a Decade of Transition . On staff with The Navigators for 12 years, Craig and his family are moving from Colorado Springs to St. Louis this summer to begin work on a new book, as well as classes at Covenant Seminary. For more on Craig, go to www.twentysomeone.com .

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