new season

God has taught me a lot this season. But most of it revolves around the theme of surrender. I hear him whispering to me:

Do you believe that my way is better than yours?
Do you trust where I’m taking you?
Do you love me more than fame, security or wealth?

It’s been a season of extremes. Exhilarating. Revealing. Distilling. But He’s been good to me. I might be whiny and gripey at times, but I know and feel like I am His son. And it’s my subtle reminder that I’m headed in the right direction, that I’m OK.

Snippets of life:

2 weeks… and then India
50 college-prep students
1st big EFD expenditure coming soon
see less of my dad
hand-pulled noodles
i really love my wife
understanding the world outside of the church

larger and sweeter

My wife and I finally decided to rehab these planters in our back patio. For about three years, they were holding lifelessly dry, granular soil littered with the remnants of vegetative corpses. I don’t even remember what we planted – it definitely didn’t resemble anything we’d want to eat or admire.

So we refreshed it with new soil, planted tomatoes, basil and chives. We threw in a cosmos for pure pleasure. Amazingly, it started to grow again. I’ve never gardened much, but there’s something very cathartic about it. Maybe it’s just the fact that in the midst of life’s frustrations, there are things we do that actually work.

We were reading up on how to nurture the fruit; get bigger tomatoes, leafier basil, chivier chives. And everyone talks about the need to prune – cutting down the fruitless branches and the pretty flowers. But they also mention the need to cut away some of the fruit. Though overall you might get less fruit, the fruit in the end will be larger and sweeter. Essentially pruning is cutting away the good so as to strive for the better.

lessons: audience of one

Continuing a series on some lessons I’ve learned during this past season of church planting.

It’s a pretty cliche phrase among preachers: living for an audience of ONE. That one being God of course. And living as if his opinion on our performance is the only one that matters. The problem is that in so many cases [if not every case] the approval of that one means disapproval from all the other ones. And for a recovering people-pleaser that’s a hard burden to bare.

I mentioned in a previous post how so many of my decisions came down to choosing between God and man. It seemed very black and white. I sensed God leading one way with so many [Christians] pointing towards another. And so often, it was as simple as when I chose God, I found his approval, but felt their disapproval. And when I chose them, hoping to get their approval, I never fully got their approval and I knew I wasn’t following God. I felt empty and never really free.

resigning

I run into random people who say to me, “I heard you resigned!” And every time I hear it, I never feel like it’s the right word for what has happened these past few months. That word paints a picture of me handing over a letter saying I appreciate working here, but I came across a better opportunity and I’ll have my stuff out in two weeks.

I didn’t resign. In fact, I’d like to think I recommitted to the value of making disciples and leaders. And in so doing, I realized in order for my leaders… my family… my friends… to better embrace the potential, the beauty, the heart that is within them, I need to step away.

I was in two different conversations recently where friends were talking about parents transitioning from “authoritarians” to “influencers” as their kids get older. They no longer make overarching decrees about sleep time and eating vegetables. But parents gradually transition to being mentors and encouragers along the road of life. As their child matures, the authoritarian influences less and less. The mentor influences more and more.

I’m not sure we’ve reached that point entirely… but it’s an apt metaphor for what has happened. I’m very blessed to be a part of their lives. But it’s no longer necessary for me to remind them about their curfew. I still feel the pain when they struggle through areas of life and leadership. And I feel so proud when they flourish in their journeys with Jesus. They’ll make mistakes and regret doing a thing or two [as I did]. But God is doing a good work in them and it’s more appropriate now to witness this from the sideline.

In some ways, I have “resigned”. I don’t get a paycheck anymore. I do not have the title on the bank accounts. But in every other aspect, I haven’t resigned at all. Because Scripture so often uses the imagery of family to represent the church, I can change my role, become more of a mentor and remain a part of the lives of the people that I love deeply.

Now off I go to finding a paycheck…

reflections on ordination

The past week has been full of reflection and emotion. I finished my last week of leading Haven and though I know it’s right, there’s a great deal of sadness with leaving. But more on that later.

I had my ordination ceremony last weekend. I finished my final requirements and interview a few months ago, but our denomination mandated [strenuously suggested?] that I do my ordination ceremony before I leave Haven. Without it, it’s not official. But reflecting on the process and the ceremony, I couldn’t help but feel a little detached from what was taking place.

When we started Haven, we maintained a strong conviction about the “priesthood of all believers” [1 Peter 2:9]. Which means that all who embrace Jesus as savior are called to bring Jesus to the world [2 Corinthians 5:19-20]. It’s not just for priests or pastors or any other form of vocational minister. In our church community, it also means that everyone is capable and given permission to do everything. Our authority structure has always been very flat and we worked hard at minimizing the separation between leader and non-leader so that all would embrace the call to serve, love and lead. Surely there is still a need for good leaders. But the point is that we are all called to follow Jesus, move out into our world and live the Gospel we profess to believe.

addendum to death…

It probably helps to read the previous post prior to this one.

Mark Driscoll and Josh Harris interview Francis Chan and ask him why he’s leaving his church. And as I’m listening to this, I’m more disheartened that the pastoral superstars of our generation don’t get why F-Chan is doing what he’s doing. Francis Chan mentions a few times that there is this nagging call to “make disciples” and “love simply” in a way that can’t be done by doing the megachurch thing. Here’s the CT article that talks about the stuff he started in LA County a year ago alongside what he was doing in his church in Simi-Valley [before realizing that he had to give up one for the other].

Francis Chan confessed honestly that he might be in a fog that needs time to clear out. But I’m more sad that superstardom has left these two other pastors in the fog and it seems like all they see is the “lunacy” of leaving a “successful” church. It’s also irritating to see Driscoll psychoanalyze and theologize his way through this conversation. He’s going to get some heat for the “fu man chu” comment.

Take a look:

What’s Next for Francis Chan? A Conversation with Mark Driscoll and Joshua Harris from Ben Peays on Vimeo.

death by ministry?

I recently read Eugene Cho’s article about why pastors are depressed, burnt out and getting divorced at the same rates as the rest of America. Check it out – it’s a good overview of the present state of the North American pastor. Eugene has always been an insightful blogger… highly recommend.

But I feel like the analysis misses the point entirely. The reason why pastors suffer the way that they do is that the role was never meant to be lived out in this way. The pastor has become the CEO with no real power, under the thumbs of each person who tithes in the church. It’s no doubt that churches have evolved to be consumer driven entities and the pastor has become it’s lead entertainer always trying to find new ways to keep it’s customer core. And the pastors who aren’t entertainers or charismatic personalities or exceptional orators… who are ministering for the simple joy of loving people through their struggles… are then expected to be something they are not, there’s no doubt they’ll suffer low self-esteem, terrible work hours and unhealthy family lives. Those who are attractive leaders experience worldly-church success, but have discovered the hollowness of what they’re creating [ie. Francis Chan?] and are left no better than the others. Here’s a New York Times article that I think summarizes this point quite well.

Giving your pastor more time off, more pay, more “prayer” to keep entertaining the masses is not the solution. It’s only perpetuating a problem that is at the core of the church’s lack of relevance and impact.

So I’m a pastor too. And part of why we started what we started [a network of house churches called Haven] was for the simple fact that after each year of ministry, I always felt like quitting. I was always tired, burnt out, depressed. And I did take enough vacation and we weren’t living at the poverty level. I’d share it with older, “wiser” pastors and they wouldn’t have much to say. Being Chinese-American, I think many of my elder Chinese pastors probably thought I was a weenie. And that I needed to toughen up for the fight. And I wondered the same thing.

soren speaking prophetically

Yes… 2 posts in a day… back to back!

My wife found this and it’s so achingly bang-on [shout out to the Canadians] with regards to the state of the church [written over a hundred years ago]. It’s from Soren Kierkegaard’s wiki. This particular quote pretty much sums up how I’ve felt my entire time of church planting. We’re so concerned with building the business of church and not making disciples [just collecting people]. And as pastors/leaders we need to come clean with our hunger for fame/power/notoriety when it comes to forming our churches. It’s in me too – I wish it wasn’t. And I’ve met very few in our ranks who have a pure desire to follow Jesus and make disciples. If you look at the church, we’ve paid a heavy price for this.

My hope is that the church and our generation will make some drastic course corrections. It seems like it’s slowly happening. But we’ve got a ways to go.

In Kierkegaard’s pamphlets and polemical books, including The Moment, he criticized several aspects of church formalities and politics. According to Kierkegaard, the idea of congregations keeps individuals as children since Christians are disinclined from taking the initiative to take responsibility for their own relation to God. He stresses that “Christianity is the individual, here, the single individual.” Furthermore, since the Church was controlled by the State, Kierkegaard believed the State’s bureaucratic mission was to increase membership and oversee the welfare of its members. More members would mean more power for the clergymen: a corrupt ideal. This mission would seem at odds with Christianity’s true doctrine, which, to Kierkegaard, is to stress the importance of the individual, not the whole. Thus, the state-church political structure is offensive and detrimental to individuals, since anyone can become “Christian” without knowing what it means to be Christian. It is also detrimental to the religion itself since it reduces Christianity to a mere fashionable tradition adhered to by unbelieving “believers”, a “herd mentality” of the population, so to speak.
>> Quote found here.

There are no longer “state-churches” – but we function with the same values and system. More members = more power. We’re stunting the growth of people by not leading them to live for Jesus. It’s ironic that we’re “disciplining” people from taking initiative for their own relationship with God. Reading this makes me a little sick as to how true it is.

passing stuff along

I’m in a cafe [as usual]. And I see a woman with two dogs sitting just outside the window I’m next to. One dog is fairly thin for an American dog. Though not sickly… just thinner than normal. And the other dog… well, the other dog looks terrible.

This dog’s face reminds me of a very adorable stuffed doggy I had as a kid. Like that of a baby-husky… very cute, medium length fur, terrific dog smile.

But it seems like this dog just made it out of Europe during the bubonic plague era. His fur is all mangled, uneven; there are huge patches of skin with no fur, where it seems like it’s rashy and sensitive. Half of his tail is missing fur. And there are still obvious remnants around his anal region. His predominantly white fur makes it rather obvious.

I feel sad for him. He’s still wagging his tail though. And as his owner eats her breakfast, he’s waiting for a morsel of mercy to be passed his way. She just now passes a large piece of jammed toast.

And then I look at her. And you know how they say that dogs resemble their owners? Well… she doesn’t quite look as sickly as her dog and being clothed I’m not aware of any patchy, rashy skin [and I’m not working hard to look either]. But from a cursory overview, she doesn’t look like she’s in the best shape. Hair all over the place [like she decided a few days ago that she wanted dreadlocks], borderline obese [choice of breakfast doesn’t help her] and it’s not hard to see that she could afford to wash her clothes more. To say more would be looking too hard and I probably crossed the line of being mean already.

I think it would be unfair to make a ton of snap judgments and over-spiritualized conclusions. I’d just be another of the judgmental masses. But I think it’s safe to say that the people [dogs] that spend the most time around us are the products of our very selves. Who we are will be passed on to those around us whether we like it or not. Which makes our own journey towards health, wholeness and spiritual attune-ness the most important piece in the puzzle. We can never give what we don’t have. And we will undoubtedly give away what we do have… even if it is toxic and life-sucking.

seeing ourselves for who we are

We were studying Romans in our house group a few weeks ago and if you’ve read it, it’s thick. Alan Thicke. The first 2 chapters are about God revealing and dealing with the corrupt nature of man. As you read it you start realizing that people are really f*cked. Even the religious folk…

“You can get by with almost anything if you front it with eloquent talk about God and his law. The line from Scripture, “It’s because of you Jews that the outsiders are down on God,” shows it’s an old problem that isn’t going to go away.” Romans 2:23-24 MES

We started talking about some of the most heinous things that man has done referring to Osama Bin Laden, Hitler, etc. And one guy asked, “Why doesn’t God just keep us from doing some of this stuff?” Meaning, if God were indeed a good father, wouldn’t he keep us from committing the most evil crimes? If you were going to stab some dude, wouldn’t your father find a way to stop you? I guess that’s still kind of a maybe.

We threw around a lot of ideas… including some very churchy ones too. But I think we realized that God doesn’t clean up all the messes so we’d really see ourselves for who we really are. I get this picture of a father that takes his son back to the corner of his room where he left that hot dog a few months back… rotting, molding, stinking up the place. And saying, “I want you to take a good look at that.”

Unfortunately it goes deeper than that. We’re capable of so much. A ridiculous amount of good… but a remarkable amount of bad too. And if I know myself, I’m gonna always want to downplay my bad side… assume that it’s not so foul. And if I begin seeing how bad it can be, I’m going to do whatever I can to keep it under wraps.

We need to understand just how messed up we really are. I don’t think we need to hide out in our homes and save the world from our colossal mistakes. But on the simplest level, when I realize that I’m thoroughly rotten to the core, I will find no other solution but Jesus. And it’s then that Jesus becomes good news. Really good news.

So how then do we live this out in community? That’s a hard one… but I suppose it’s important that we live transparently and that our forms help us to see our true selves – good and bad. And the truth is small community does what large gatherings can never do.