These days, when people ask me what it is I do, I don't really know what to say.
I'm a pastor... Sort of. Not in the traditional clergy-collar with a parish sense, but I do the vocational ministry and pastoral care thing.
I'm a church-planter... But not really. I'm not exactly planting a church, but I am starting a ministry, just not a traditional church. Brett says it belongs in the "Fresh Expressions" category. Ok...
Let me backtrack a little bit.
About a year ago, several things came into play that drastically shook my belief that I was called to ministry. Never mind that years of good ol' AUSOT teaching and my own slightly feminist mother had convinced me otherwise. All it took was the outcome of a church-planting personality test that said I didn't have the right personality to be a key person to lead or plant a ministry, and everything crumbled.
The trouble was, I kept pushing forward pretending that personality test didn't sting.
The trouble was, I kept pushing forward trying to prove them wrong.
The trouble was this ugly fuzz ball that in grief counselling terms, we call "compounding grief" (not dealing with one aspect of grief and allowing it to snowball into something much bigger).
The trouble was all the signs still said it wasn't time for me to quit ministry, even though I came so close to throwing in the towel so many times (after all, if even the personality tests said I didn't have what it takes, why do I even bother?) and my mental health was at stake.
The trouble was, in pretending it didn't sting, I ended up screwing up more.
And so I forced myself to think like my friends with the right personalities for church planting would.
I forced myself to come up with business plans, programmes and solutions -- not so much to generate numbers or results, but to at least be able to pull off the pretence that there are things happening.
And you know what happened?
Nothing.
Nothing great, but also nothing terrible.
Just... Nothing.
And then it suddenly occurred to me I was hurting because of that personality test.
And then it suddenly occurred to me I needed to make peace with that personality test.
And then it suddenly occurred to me I needed to stop trying to prove the personality test wrong.
Because while I may not have the right personality traits to pass that church-planting personality test, the truth is, I never believed in having all the right answers anyway (that's a story for another time).
Because while I may not have the right answers to pass that personality test, I have this strange, twisted, whimsical life story that is real and relevant to the ones I'm called to pastor in this season.
Because while I may have proved the personality test right in not gaining any results, I quickly learnt that there is no tried-and-true template for what this ministry plant is going to look like anyway.
Because ultimately, my core value in ministry (and thank you to Kara, Janice, and several others who have been constantly reminding me of this) has always been about relationships.
And that's what makes me good at what I do.
And that's what makes me called to ministry--believing in relationships and the power of agape love to carry us all through life.
So honestly, I don't really have a clue what this student ministry is going to look like because nothing has gone as I thought it would.
But I have some pretty incredible students teaching me a lot about life. And even if we never achieve any of the lofty goals I had envisioned, I really would be at peace knowing I get to walk with some incredible people on their journey with life meets faith.
So personality tests and your results, and that fuzz ball of compounding grief, you can pack your sorry little bags and say goodbye. We're done here.
Because whatever title you choose to call this thing I'm doing, so be it.
Because I am called to ministry.
And I am choosing to remain in ministry.
Game on.
Showing posts with label Clergy Talk. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Clergy Talk. Show all posts
08 June 2014
02 September 2013
Quick Thoughts on the City Harvest Trial
A friend asked recently what I thought about the City Harvest Trial. As usual, I avoid making public comments about issues like this because everybody has an opinion and wants it to be heard but doesn't want to hear anyone else.
But I've been thinking about it a bit more recently, and even though I confess I haven't followed the news as closely of late, I do have a few thoughts to share.
(Back story: six leaders, including founder and lead pastor Kong Hee, of City Harvest Church, a mega-church in Singapore are accused of conspiring to channel S$24 million into two companies using "sham bond investments" to fund the music career of Sun Ho, Kong Hee's wife. Another S$26 million was allegedly used to cover up the first amount. Source: Channel NewsAsia)
Assumptions, assumptions
(You know what they say about assuming.)
When the news first broke about the arrest of the six leaders, I was back in Singapore, just about to head out to dinner with my parents and some friends from church. So of course, that was the dinner conversation. My mother, who's an accountant and has helped with bookkeeping at the church we used to attend, said almost immediately that it's easy for folks to make assumptions because we all need someone to blame.
Personally, I have my biases against mega-churches. One of my dearest friends is the junior high pastor at Willow Creek, and she and I often joke about how different styles work for different people. I have a lot of respect for Gretchen and the work she does with the junior-highers, but I just don't know how to wrap my mind around how a mega-church works. Admittedly, that affected my bias toward the situation, and I was ready to make assumptions about a situation of which I didn't know the full story.
Church as Family
One of the things I love about the Church is that it can be family. At the same time, that can cause problems. My mum pointed out was that often in church settings, we sometimes shift things around in the finances without doing the necessary reporting. "It's all in the family," so it doesn't really matter... Or does it? Perhaps it doesn't matter as much when we're dealing with petty cash. But as the church grows and budgets increase, "petty cash" becomes more significant, and we could run into trouble with "it's all in the family".
Accountability
Because we work in a "religious" setting, it can be easy to spiritualise leaders and those overseeing ministry, as if they can do no wrong so we don't worry about reporting or asking for transparency. Not that we shouldn't trust our leaders, but as a safety net for all involved, proper accountability procedures should be set up and followed--something I personally struggle with because I don't have an official organisation that provides that level of accountability.
So there you go, my few thoughts on the City Harvest trial. I don't know who's right or who's wrong, and I don't think I'd be a fair judge. But I know there are lessons for us to learn from this, and those are the three I've learnt so far.
But I've been thinking about it a bit more recently, and even though I confess I haven't followed the news as closely of late, I do have a few thoughts to share.
(Back story: six leaders, including founder and lead pastor Kong Hee, of City Harvest Church, a mega-church in Singapore are accused of conspiring to channel S$24 million into two companies using "sham bond investments" to fund the music career of Sun Ho, Kong Hee's wife. Another S$26 million was allegedly used to cover up the first amount. Source: Channel NewsAsia)
Assumptions, assumptions
(You know what they say about assuming.)
When the news first broke about the arrest of the six leaders, I was back in Singapore, just about to head out to dinner with my parents and some friends from church. So of course, that was the dinner conversation. My mother, who's an accountant and has helped with bookkeeping at the church we used to attend, said almost immediately that it's easy for folks to make assumptions because we all need someone to blame.
Personally, I have my biases against mega-churches. One of my dearest friends is the junior high pastor at Willow Creek, and she and I often joke about how different styles work for different people. I have a lot of respect for Gretchen and the work she does with the junior-highers, but I just don't know how to wrap my mind around how a mega-church works. Admittedly, that affected my bias toward the situation, and I was ready to make assumptions about a situation of which I didn't know the full story.
Church as Family
One of the things I love about the Church is that it can be family. At the same time, that can cause problems. My mum pointed out was that often in church settings, we sometimes shift things around in the finances without doing the necessary reporting. "It's all in the family," so it doesn't really matter... Or does it? Perhaps it doesn't matter as much when we're dealing with petty cash. But as the church grows and budgets increase, "petty cash" becomes more significant, and we could run into trouble with "it's all in the family".
Accountability
Because we work in a "religious" setting, it can be easy to spiritualise leaders and those overseeing ministry, as if they can do no wrong so we don't worry about reporting or asking for transparency. Not that we shouldn't trust our leaders, but as a safety net for all involved, proper accountability procedures should be set up and followed--something I personally struggle with because I don't have an official organisation that provides that level of accountability.
So there you go, my few thoughts on the City Harvest trial. I don't know who's right or who's wrong, and I don't think I'd be a fair judge. But I know there are lessons for us to learn from this, and those are the three I've learnt so far.
11 July 2013
Akan Datang Explained...
David asked earlier what the significance of "akan datang" and Luke 5 (the parts of the address of this site) were. I guess in the three years that have passed since this blog came into existence, even I have forgotten the significance.
So I guess it's time to revisit it.
This blog came into existence to document my experience when I did my internship in Berlin, Germany. At the time, the words "akan datang" came to mind because I had no other way of explaining what I was going to do in Berlin.
"Akan datang" is Malay (the language of the natives in Singapore) for "coming soon".
Luke 5, specifically the story where Jesus tells Peter to cast his nets deeper in the water, has been a key portion of scripture for my call to ministry. I don't know where I'm going half the time, except just a little deeper. "Coming soon" is a statement of faith for whatever it might be that is to come...
Years later, the journey hasn't changed that much. Still trying to convince myself there IS stability in living out that statement of faith, and going just that little bit deeper. I don't know that stability will ever happen for me in this life, except for the stability that comes from simply being faithful.
Joe reminded me recently that "simply being faithful" was the crux of our call. I remembered writing about it here. And that's what this blog is about. Documenting the very feeble attempt to simply be faithful. I'll probably get it wrong more than I'll get it right, but that's where grace, far greater than the human mind, comes in.
The rest of the call story can be found in the latest edition of "Called to Minister, Empowered to Serve". Available on Amazon.
Have I mentioned that I belong in a group of very, very quality people? Because I really do. They do a great job keeping me on the path of "simply being faithful," and I cannot be more thankful.
So I guess it's time to revisit it.
This blog came into existence to document my experience when I did my internship in Berlin, Germany. At the time, the words "akan datang" came to mind because I had no other way of explaining what I was going to do in Berlin.
"Akan datang" is Malay (the language of the natives in Singapore) for "coming soon".
Luke 5, specifically the story where Jesus tells Peter to cast his nets deeper in the water, has been a key portion of scripture for my call to ministry. I don't know where I'm going half the time, except just a little deeper. "Coming soon" is a statement of faith for whatever it might be that is to come...
Years later, the journey hasn't changed that much. Still trying to convince myself there IS stability in living out that statement of faith, and going just that little bit deeper. I don't know that stability will ever happen for me in this life, except for the stability that comes from simply being faithful.
Joe reminded me recently that "simply being faithful" was the crux of our call. I remembered writing about it here. And that's what this blog is about. Documenting the very feeble attempt to simply be faithful. I'll probably get it wrong more than I'll get it right, but that's where grace, far greater than the human mind, comes in.
The rest of the call story can be found in the latest edition of "Called to Minister, Empowered to Serve". Available on Amazon.
Have I mentioned that I belong in a group of very, very quality people? Because I really do. They do a great job keeping me on the path of "simply being faithful," and I cannot be more thankful.
13 May 2013
Mothers' Day
Yellow and orange carnations.
That's what I think of every Mothers' Day. Because that's what I remember about every Mothers' Day growing up. Dad would wake my brother and I up early, and we'll go to the market to pick out flowers for Mum. We would try to hurry home so we'd be back in time to make breakfast for Mum.
Except for the two times that we were in the same part of the world because the family had come to Anderson for graduation, the last nine Mothers' Days have been celebrated by a text or phone-call. Anderson, Auckland and Singapore were just a little too far away to make the trip.
Maybe because I've never been too eager to be a parent myself, Mothers' Day has always been about Mum, Grandmas, and all the mums I've adopted in various parts of the world. Over the years, I've read posts about being inclusive (especially in church) when celebrating mums, and I've always nodded and agreed. But it had never been personal, maybe because I still saw myself as a little kid pretending to be a grown-up.
Until this year.
We usually do a themed family style pitch-in dinner after service each Sunday, and this week's theme was Mothers' Day. Men and kids were encouraged to be the ones to be responsible for bringing the food (we were willing to accept take-aways too) this week instead so that the lady of the house didn't have to cook.
My gut reaction, as usual, was to think about the people in our church who might have been excluded because of that demographic--those who either didn't have a husband or kids... And realised, I was the only one in our tiny community church that fit into that demographic.
Then I remembered the words a dear friend once jokingly said, "Pastors don't count, remember?" So I sucked it up and didn't feel the need to speak up for myself.
I went ahead and made my share of the pitch-in anyway (because that's what good clergywomen do). When I took it into the kitchenette at church, one of the kids came up to me and said, "Why did you make food? I thought only the men and the kids were supposed to do it?"
Usually when folks try to convince me to either find a guy or think about having kids, my usual comeback is, "I simply don't have the time, energy, or really care enough to do that." But that few seconds in the kitchenette with Hannah's innocent question, I felt like I was less than human because I didn't have a man or kids, so I had to spend the morning in the kitchen.
Before this turns into a "woe is Jael" story (because that's not the point), let's just end here with this gentle reminder to consider a bit more inclusivity, especially in our church language. I know the intention wasn't to make anyone feel left out, and we may never fully include everyone, but let's remind ourselves again each day to at least try.
Big love to you all. Oh, and if you're a mum or grandma by birth or adoption, or a spiritual or foster mum and grandma, I celebrate you. Thank you for your love.
That's what I think of every Mothers' Day. Because that's what I remember about every Mothers' Day growing up. Dad would wake my brother and I up early, and we'll go to the market to pick out flowers for Mum. We would try to hurry home so we'd be back in time to make breakfast for Mum.
Except for the two times that we were in the same part of the world because the family had come to Anderson for graduation, the last nine Mothers' Days have been celebrated by a text or phone-call. Anderson, Auckland and Singapore were just a little too far away to make the trip.
Maybe because I've never been too eager to be a parent myself, Mothers' Day has always been about Mum, Grandmas, and all the mums I've adopted in various parts of the world. Over the years, I've read posts about being inclusive (especially in church) when celebrating mums, and I've always nodded and agreed. But it had never been personal, maybe because I still saw myself as a little kid pretending to be a grown-up.
Until this year.
We usually do a themed family style pitch-in dinner after service each Sunday, and this week's theme was Mothers' Day. Men and kids were encouraged to be the ones to be responsible for bringing the food (we were willing to accept take-aways too) this week instead so that the lady of the house didn't have to cook.
My gut reaction, as usual, was to think about the people in our church who might have been excluded because of that demographic--those who either didn't have a husband or kids... And realised, I was the only one in our tiny community church that fit into that demographic.
Then I remembered the words a dear friend once jokingly said, "Pastors don't count, remember?" So I sucked it up and didn't feel the need to speak up for myself.
I went ahead and made my share of the pitch-in anyway (because that's what good clergywomen do). When I took it into the kitchenette at church, one of the kids came up to me and said, "Why did you make food? I thought only the men and the kids were supposed to do it?"
Usually when folks try to convince me to either find a guy or think about having kids, my usual comeback is, "I simply don't have the time, energy, or really care enough to do that." But that few seconds in the kitchenette with Hannah's innocent question, I felt like I was less than human because I didn't have a man or kids, so I had to spend the morning in the kitchen.
Before this turns into a "woe is Jael" story (because that's not the point), let's just end here with this gentle reminder to consider a bit more inclusivity, especially in our church language. I know the intention wasn't to make anyone feel left out, and we may never fully include everyone, but let's remind ourselves again each day to at least try.
Big love to you all. Oh, and if you're a mum or grandma by birth or adoption, or a spiritual or foster mum and grandma, I celebrate you. Thank you for your love.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)