The Rice Bowl Leadership

I visited a cell group last Friday and had a heart-to-heart talk with the young adults.

I shared with them how I felt when RZ fell. It was scary (to say the least) how a man that well-versed in defending the faith and that successful in ministry worldwide could have engaged in such blatant sexual acts for more than ten years without anyone within his leadership circle calling him out. 

In fact, I have a name for that kind of leadership. It’s call rice-bowl leadership. It is quite universal, even amongst secular organisations. This is how it works, even quietly thrives. 

If you follow the trail in RZ’s countless of secret rendezvous, you will note that it goes back to 2004. That is the exposed trail that is known. 

In 2008, Salt and Light reported that he was “seen with a woman he was not related to in a Singapore hotel.” He was holding her hand and “appeared to be intimate with her.” When questioned, RZ said it was a misunderstanding, and his ministry declined to investigate. 

This is what the then Singapore Board chair said: “Directors agreed that derogatory remarks of any kind by any of the parties must cease immediately as they do not glorify the Lord...We are of the same conviction that brothers should reconcile where there have been misunderstandings...The work of RZIM is making great impact on unbelievers and any public dispute will bring irreparable damage to parties concerned and the organization.”

That is very much the deindividuation of faith - that is, “the loss of oneself as an individual,” and in the Christian context, a variant kind of bystander effect, where seemingly good leaders stand by one side, the organisation side, dismissing any cause for inquiry as a misunderstanding, and justifying it with this often heard forewarning - “any public dispute will bring irreparable damage to parties concerned and the organization.”

I trust that there is the peculiar universal effect concerning organizations, especially those who claim to be the emissaries for God. It is the rice-bowl leadership where one would do what it takes to keep one’s rice bowl from cracking. 

This bowl is often associated with economic incentive. But it covers reputation too. It also covers the zealous protection of status and positions. When the bowl is set up, comfortably receiving the earthly rewards that one’s unquestioned allegiance brings to it, there is little incentive, if at all, for breaking it because it just costs too much. 

Mind you, that “irreparable damage” part comes in two parts, that is, irreparable damage to the organisation also means irreparable damage to one’s rice bowl. 

No one is therefore exempted from this effect because it is in our nature to want to protect that which we have greatly been benefiting/profiting from, whether it is a costly purchase we had recently made or an organization we have given up many years of our life to build up. 

When we are beholden to an edifice, we become that edifice, an integral part of it. And when things go suspiciously wrong, we unknowingly give the responsible part of ourselves to the irresponsible part of the whole. The sum of the parts thus swallows whole the individual parts itself and the two become indistinguishable.

When that becomes a reality, even the best of us as leaders becomes a tool or a means to its end. And as RZIM has shown, the irreparable damage to the faith is even deeper as offices worldwide struggle to remain open with the decision to remove “RZ” from RZIM. 

Sadly, this is the extent of the irreparable damage done to the faith when one protects the rice bowl instead of mustering up the courage to break it because the elements it has been receiving can no longer hold true. Here is what the spokesperson for RZIM has to say: -

“The board’s trust in Ravi led to no further action being taken. With broken hearts, we now see this trust was completely misguided and misplaced, and we are sorry. There were no other situations or cases reported to the Singapore board at that time or subsequently, which raised any suspicion of wrong-doing.” (spokesperson for RZIM). 

Indeed, without hearts broken, you will never have the heart to break your rice bowl for God. 

It is in fact ironic that even in a statement like the one above, the leadership is still able to say that “there were no other situations or cases reported to the Singapore board at that time or subsequently, which raised any suspicion of wrong-doing.” 

Alas, what does it take to slay the dragon of the cult of personality, if inappropriately holding a woman’s hand in public, appearing to be intimate in a Singapore hotel, doesn’t put one on notice of possible misconduct? 

And yes, it could very well be a misunderstanding, but to kill any desire stillborn for an inquiry because RZ said so, or because ”there were no other situations or cases” before and after, or because such “derogatory remarks” would not glorify the Lord, is what contributes to the indestructibility of the rice bowl. 

If you need a clearer case of rice-bowl leadership, here is an extract of the investigation into RZ’s sexual misconduct. 

“At an all-staff virtual meeting in January 2018, after significant details of the Thompson communications had been made public, Mr. Zacharias offered explanations that many staff members found nonsensical. But some staff members reported to us that when they expressed doubts about Mr. Zacharias’s story, they were ignored, marginalized, and accused of disloyalty.”

That is the main issue when the body of Christ becomes a church, and when the church becomes readily and concretely identified with its human leadership because of the numerical and monetary growth the leadership is raking it in. 

Often, when it reaches that point, the Christ in the body is quietly removed, so that the body is taken over by its human leadership. This body-snatching sleight-of-hand is always very discreetly done and members, even leaders, would scarcely notice. 

And because of the by-stander effect and the process of deindividuation, where the sum of its parts takes over the parts, none is the wiser or is courageous enough to call out the crook insidiously embodied in the cult of personality. 

And this is scary because very much like the license to kill that Mr Bond holds, RZ and the many like him are handed over, in the poisoned chalice of leadership, the license to do as one pleases because to even think of doing otherwise would be to cause “irreparable damage to parties concerned and the organization” and to the glory of the Lord. 

...and that is the lesson a genuine believer must never forget when it comes to a leader using God as a means to his end.

 

Choosing the better thing: the spin of the materialist grind (Part 1 and 2)

 

Last weekend, we had a discussion with the young adults. One of them shared how he felt when he was doing his reservist. His army/commando mates are nearing their thirties. 

When they gathered for that once-a-year national service, he said one would notice which station of life they are currently in. Some of them would drive their BMW into camp. Some would be sharing about their successes in their career, earning more in comparison. Others would have been married, maybe have kids...(which may not be all a good thing if one is trying to make ends meet). 

While they all wore the same army uniform, shared the same bunk and food, and subjected to the same exercises, they were palpably different in terms of their different socioeconomic status. There is thus a gap when they started sharing about how they have reaped in the material successes while the rest, who are struggling, listened by the side.

When he shared how he felt, that is, how he felt left behind, he said one of his army mates who drove a BMW said casually that he discovered that having it all was not all it was banged up to be. It is just not what he is looking for, that is, he still feels empty inside. 

Well, breaking into humor, the young adult said that at least his friend had a BMW with him when he said that. For him, he didn’t have anything to show for. 

Well, he has a point, a pointed one. That sharing in fact kept me thinking about how our society is wired in general. 

I guess it is the male peacock syndrome. If you have it, flaunt it. It’s the age-old conspicuous consumption, and kings and queens have no shortage of that exhibitionistic attitude. 

And in modern times, if you work hard (and with some luck), you would have earned the bragging rights. It is therefore human nature to shout it out at the rooftop. It’s called giving yourself a pat on the back. For some of us, it is a lifetime reminder that you are first and the rest will just have to acknowledge that - consciously or subconsciously. 

That’s a kind of signalling in society too. You send signals to people that you have arrived. Like the hare, you do the dance of jig when you complete the race with material possessions as the reward. The tortoises of society will just have to crawl their way to the finishing line at their own paces and marvel from a distance. 

And apart from crawling towards the finishing line, what do the rest of us do?

Well, we can console ourselves. We can do what the wolf in Aesop’s fable do. He can’t get the grapes. He walked away saying they aren’t sweet. They are sour (I am just being realistic). 

But, having said all that, is it really all it banged up to be? When you have arrived, with fancy cars and mansions to boot, do you really feel empty inside? 

Or, you are just saying that to give out a counter-signal, that is, a form of bragging, but this time, you are flaunting humility, that is, a sobering philosophical outlook to elevate your status as the wise one? 

At this juncture, I recall a tale about a devil having a conference, seeking consultation with his seniors on how he could engineer to get a priest to fall into temptation. Many have tried before and he was infallible, because in his village, he was practically a saint. 

This was so until a voice from the back of the conference room cried out. “I have a winning formula. I know how I can bait the priest. It’s a sure win.”

The room fell into pin-drop silence to hear what their partner-in-sin has to say. “Well, it’s easy,” whispered the little devil. “Just tell him his younger brother has just been appointed as a bishop.”

I think that says it all. Envy, the kind that bites and doesn’t let go is the kind that rots the soul when everything we do, whether we admit it or not, is a means to an end. And that end being for self-glorification, even if it is about doing charity for a cause. 

Mind you, the already-rich amongst us can be flaunting it big, telling the world how they are remodelling their multi-storey bungalow in some Cayman island, or send another signal, no less soul-biting, by wearing it down, like Zuckerberg, who is always in jeans and body-hugging t-shirts - almost the same colour everytime he is presenting in public. Nothing of the usual bling-bling. 

Either ways, when the heart is desirous of attention, the actions will follow suit. Even virtues can be made a goal to elevate oneself. 

Let me return to the camp sharing and about a BMW. The young adult has a point about how he felt, that is, when he said that at least his camp buddy owned a BMW when he lamented. 

As a cluster leader, I sat there and nodded in amusement, allowing the biting irony to sink in. It is a feeling quite universal and undeniable. That’s the way the society is wired. Even the priest, no matter how outwardly pious, has his own demons, very much like the fate of the respected religious leaders who fell from grace. 

My point is to acknowledge that this is human nature. It is the uno-stacko nature of a hierarchical society, when everything we do is an intense competition from birth, grades, schools, salaries, properties and bank accounts, constantly striving to be numero uno.

These are deemed the benchmarks of worldly successes, that is, the things we acquire that define us. And people who have “arrived”, even at an early age, will not let you forget it, whether intentional or otherwise.

But, having said all that, there is an interesting twist to what the young adult had shared that night. It was almost a divine moment he had encountered at the camp. It doesn’t change everything of course, but it offered another perspective of things. I will write about it, erm, maybe tomorrow. 

So, stay tuned....

 

(PART 2)...the young adult shared that he booked a grab one evening to leave campsite when he saw a car waiting just by the roadside. He approached the car, entered it and the driver greeted him. Along the journey, they had a good talk. 

The driver shared that he was a missionary in Myanmar. He came back to Singapore before Covid. But, when CB struck, he was stuck. He could not return to Myanmar. So, the missionary took up the grab job in the meanwhile. 

As they talked about life and faith, the missionary shared about Martha, Mary and Jesus. You can read the encounter in Luke 10:38-42. While Martha kept herself busy cooking up a storm in kitchen service, Mary sat by Jesus’ feet in what is called living room intimacy. 

Martha was troubled by Mary not helping and said: “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!” This was Jesus’ reply.

“Martha, Martha, you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken from her.”

That encounter was timely for the young adult. As he was bombarded by the relative successes of his camp mates (during the reservist exchange of who is seemingly more successful than who), the Martha and Mary story struck a chord in his heart. He felt a calmness after the storm, so to speak. 

Our worries are in fact endless. At different stages of our life, we have different concerns, and some of them can turn into an obsession, and oppressively so. For many, the the need for status, the deep need to be accepted, the crippling sense of the prospect of a loss and how others will view us if we fail by the worldly benchmarks scare the living daylight out of us. 

Anyway, who wants to be left behind right?

But being left behind implies that we have put ourselves by choice in that one-track race that can only end up in a one-dimensional trophy. That race is about money, power and fame and that trophy is about self-enrichment. 

Yet, no, this is not a post to trash success, even the secular kind. And I feel we should stop being pretentious about it. We can tell our child that there are other more worthy pursuits than grades, and that may be true, but don’t we want our child tested, even through the academic grind, and hope that they will come out shining, like paper gold? 

The more pertinent question is, if we have a child who quite naturally excels academically, without tuition, how will that change us? How will we view other kids who struggle and their mothers? And if not, that is, our kids struggle with their studies, how will that change us too? And whether we have academically inclined kids or otherwise, will we be the same, largely unchanged, or change for the worse?

This applies when our kids graduate too. When it comes to work and career, we too want them to excel, secure that promotion, and diligently work their way up the success ladder, right? 

On this, Adam Smith made this observation: “The rich man glories in his riches, because he feels that they naturally draw upon him the attention of the world...The poor man, on the contrary, is ashamed of his poverty. He feels that it either places him out of the sight of mankind, or, that if they take any notice of him, they have, however, scarce any fellow-feeling with the misery and distress which he suffers.”

That shame is real for everyone who has judged themselves as not measuring up by the worldly benchmarks. And this is made worse when the comparing fever starts. It is the shame of being left behind, the shame of inadequacy, the shame of falling short. 

But, that Jesus’ encounter woke the young adult up. It was like a timely freshwater spring on his way home in the grab ride. And we as a community are duly ministered by it too when he shared with us that night. 

No doubt he will still be visited by that shame occasionally, and we all have that occasional guest. That is why we need to embrace a community that we can relate to. That is, a community that shares the shame, puts it in its place, and then replaces it with a perspective that anchors us in what matters in the long lens of things. 

Although Jesus said that Mary has chosen the one thing (that is needed) and that was the better thing, which will not be taken away from her, I like to think that he was also reminding us that the one thing doesn’t stand alone in a social vacuum. I take that to mean this - “whether we can put to rest the rest of the things that is not that one thing that is needed, that is, the one thing that is better.” 

And if we can’t let go, then it would be expected that we would soon come to lose that one better thing, because how can a mind perpetually struggling with wanting everything in order to avoid the persecution of shame ever give himself completely to that one thing that has the potential to release him from that persecution in the first place? Food for thought?

In any event, I have always believed that in every context, there is the better thing to pursue. It would take time for the young to find, treasure and anchor it. 

When he works, it is not so much the material rewards as it is about how he has grown over the years in character. When he marries, it would be good to ask, what is he looking for - individual interests or the interests of his spouse, or a lifetime commitment or one where it is hope that the emotions of romance will not dry up?

And as a parent, the better thing is not about making sure your child jumps from one academic hoop after another. It is about the bond that your child carries with him or her when they start their own family. That sacred call of parenthood is not so much performance-based as it is relationship-rooted. For the deeper the roots, the stronger the child - and the closer the parent gets to the better thing. 

Alas, in everything we do, we always miss the forest for the trees. We miss the intimacy for the service. We miss the bond for the performance. We miss the devotion for the presents and gifts. We miss the communion for the activities. We miss our anchored identity for the comparing. In essence, we miss the one thing for just about everything else. 

That is why Charles Spurgeon writes this about Martha: “The condition of a servant well becomes every Christian. Her fault was that she grew “cumbered with much serving” so that she forgot him and only remembered the service.”

This is common amongst us. Even leaders running churches or captains of industries sometimes have to take stock. We all have our one thing, the better thing - one that endures with us for a lifetime. The intimacy, the bond and the legacy all dovetails to that one thing.

Our fault is that we strive to do all things at every different season of our life. And that only draws us further and further away from that one thing. 

Sadly, that is the journey of shame, a journey we are scarce to find enduring peace and the company of the one who truly matters.

 

 

Crisis of faith?

 

Crisis of faith. How do you deal with it? 

Professor Chong Siow Ann wrote about it over the weekend. “Dealing with a loss of faith and the will to live” starts off with a young man from a Christian family. His parents are missionaries and he grew up as a passionate believer. 

Over time, he went through what is intense self-interrogation and vexing doubts. He started asking the usual questions about God and the seeming triumph of evil, and suffered from a crisis of faith - that is, “how can a loving, powerful and all-knowing God allow such gratuitous sufferings to take place under His watch?” 

That endless wrestle with theodicy’s Pandora box pushed the young man to the edge of faith, into the abyss of despair, even dark thoughts of suicide. 

Professor Chong wrote: “Losing one’s religious faith may be liberating for some, but for others it is like being an exile and a castaway at the same time: drifting unmoored from their former spiritual communities and buffeted by waves of anxiety, despair and hopelessness.” The guilt may be oppressive and the self-censure crushing. 

The young man sought counselling and treatment from Professor Chong and his team. And a few weeks after a consult, he ended his life. That is indeed a tragic end for a young man, beloved son born into a missionary’s home. 

Lesson? Just one, and let me cite scriptures since this is about religion. This is a popular verse in Revelation 3:20 - Jesus says he stand at the door and knocks and anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with them and they will me. 

In the past, I often used that verse to evangelise, telling non-believers on the street that Jesus is standing by the door of their hearts, knocking for a response. But, no, that verse was meant to be in the context of the church, the faith community of believers. Jesus was speaking to the church, first and foremost (because that may just be faith’s greatest challenge). 

I can imagine a time when we invite Him in, but over time, the invite becomes a challenge to our faith, overbearing even, that is, when the reality of life sinks in, and we start to question the purpose of that invite, that first knock. 

Like that young man, we all (at some point in our faith journey) suffer from the disillusionment of the faith, clinging on to His coattails like the woman with an issue of blood yet, struggling to believe like the father who pleaded with Jesus, crying out, “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!” 

Mind you, that tension for some can lead to a long and lonely walk into the dark fortress of one’s existential terra incognito, an uncharted territory where we suffer from a “crisis of meaninglessness”. 

God knows I have been there countless of times. When a much admired man of God falls. Yes, I was there. When the church differs little from the world. When Christian leadership is so desperate to seek worldly approval. Yes, I was wandering in that dark fortress. 

When a scripture mutates into a self-serving doctrine dangled before a mindless audience. When believers proclaim with one heart their undying devotion and loyalty to a man of the most confounding moral standing. I was there...sometimes groping in the dark. 

And I am not even talking about the problem of evil aptly captured in this brief deductive exercise: -

“1) God exists, is all good, all knowing, and all powerful.

2) Such a being has no limits to its ability.

3) A good being will always eliminate all the evil that it can.

4) Evil exists, so God must not.”

CS Lewis once said: “I didn’t go to religion to make me happy. I always knew a bottle of Port would do that. If you want a religion to make you feel really comfortable, I certainly don’t recommend Christianity.”

Yes, that is the same invite Jesus extends to all who desire to follow Him. Count the cost. Bear the Cross. Overcome the world. Theodicy is therefore not about understanding why evil exists in a world under God’s watch. It is about why you still believe in a world where evil nevertheless exists under God’s watch. It is about you, and which direction you desire to go at many of faith‘s crossroads. 

And it is not so much about a comfortable understanding of faith as it is about a persistent overcoming by faith even when the going gets tough and the world is moving on without you. Some prodigals do come home after a long journey to find the meaning they have been chasing after, but never thought it would satisfy so little, if at all, when they finally found it.

 

Alas, other prodigals never came home. That is reality. They couldn’t confront a faith they could not understand, a love so contradictory, and a God who stood idly by when sufferings abound. No doubt, a reality we must also come to accept. 

So, will I ever come to accept the rigors of my faith, its tauntings and disillusionment? I hope not. For it would be a faith too comfortable for me. A faith I am scarce to indulge in for fear that it may turn me to one who rather seek the equivalent of a bottle of Port instead of the flowing river of life. 

Yet, I don’t deny the temptation is immense for a broken man like me, but the pull of Calvary is also immense as I, with eternal hope, earnestly struggle with the immensity of me.

 

Ravi Zacharias - the fall.

The morning-after Sunday reflection: -

After the revelation of Ravi Zacharias (“RZ”) came out on the first day of CNY, I read this statement by a former staff of RZIM. 

“In an email to The Christian Post on Friday, Carson Weitnauer, who previously led RZIM's U.S. speaking team, said he now believes that Zacharias was not only a fraud, as he articulated in an earlier op-ed published by CP, but that the organization bearing his name is as well. He further asserted that the ministry's apology is unacceptable in light of the revelations released in the report.” 

(The Christian Post, 13 Feb, by Brandon Showalter). 

Carson added: "The organization’s apologetic-sounding statement was released by an anonymous board, is incomplete in its scope, avoids calling on the Zacharias Estate to release the Thompson's from the NDA, and announces no resignations or removals of those most responsible for this tragedy. 1 John 3:18 instructs us, 'Little children, let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth.”

Thompson was one of his accusers, and she was sued by RZ. They eventually settled and signed a NDA (Non-Disclosure Agreement). 

Sadly, after all's said, RZIM is evidently built around the cult of personality. By now, it should be obvious enough. It even bears his name. Now, RZIM is considering changing its name as publishers pull his books out of the retail shelves. 

At this point, the mid-stream chicken-and-the-egg question for me is this, at which point did RZ change from using religion to publicly defeat his carnal appetites to using religion to privately feed them? Galatians 3:3 puts it in similar manner: -

“Are you so foolish and senseless? Having begun [your new life by faith] with the Spirit, are you now being perfected and reaching spiritual maturity by the flesh."

That’s right, you heard it right the first time. Don’t need second reading. For you can reach spiritual maturity by other means, in particular, the flesh, and none is the wiser. It is thus one means by which it is difficult for another to discern or to call out for repentance because the fruit the leader bears is as enticing as the one the serpent once offered to Eve, and Eve to Adam. 

Alas, power, wealth and fame are never to be underestimated. Most men, even the best of us, struggle endlessly to beat down the temptation to just give in, to put on the facade, to make it believable, to fleece them for as long as it takes, and hopefully, to repent later when one has secured enough religious cred, thereby making one too holy or reverent to fall. Trust me, that temptation is hard to resist over the long run when one rests on his religious laurels in the summit of power and influence.

In fact, there is a kind of stupor (like a trance) in religious organisations that tends to paralyse many into a form of compliance stasis, if not mass acquiescence. This is evident in what the Independent Report on RZ’s sexual misconduct recounted in an all-staff virtual meeting in January 2018 when “significant details of the Thompson communications had been made public.” Here is the relevant extract.

“Mr Zacharias offered explanations that many staff members found nonsensical. But some staff members reported to us that when they expressed doubts about Mr Zacharia’s story, they were ignored, marginalized, and accused of disloyalty.”

Well, you know falsehood is (ironically) vindicated when truth becomes a fugitive or when the appeal to reason is seen as an act of betrayal. That is what it means by divided allegiance, that is, serving two masters and falling prey to the wrong one. 

And the irony with the Canadian woman Lori Anne Thompson is that she claimed she was “groomed” by RZ to “gain her trust as a spiritual guide, confidante, and notable Christian statesman”. That caused her to open her life to him to the point where RZ “exercised a controlling influence over her as one with spiritual authority.” 

She said “he used his influence to exploit her vulnerability to satisfy his own sexual desires.” Although they were never physically intimate, “Ms Thompson alleged that they engaged in an emotional relationship through electronic communication and that culminated in him asking for photographs of her, including nudes, which she sent.”

If such is true, that’s sexual grooming 101. But, before you say that that will not happen to you, mind you, subordinates in religious organization fall prey to such modus operandi too when the cult of personality rules. It is of another kind of grooming no less insidious; a collective grooming that numbs the senses and stupefies spiritual discernment. 

If you think about it, RZ definitely had that clout, that spiritual authority, and I personally would be equally enthralled if I were working under him. 

And that is the issue with religious organisations or organised religion, when everything in the most nuanced way revolves around one personality (or a couple) whose claim for spiritual authority is almost absolute, and for whom the masses freely associate the success of the organization with his leadership, wisdom and vision. 

Sometimes, we mistake church growth in numbers as a sure sign of success. Well, it is not necessarily so because cancer is also about growth, a kind of runaway, uncontrolled multiplication. Thus, a vision of numerical growth realised without a life consistently consecrated - like how Christ would often draw away from the clamoring crowd - is a growth that eventually devours the visionary. It is a growth that overtime carries out a hostile or carnal takeover of its host. 

At this juncture, repeating Galatians warning would be most apt - “Are you so foolish and senseless? Having begun [your new life by faith] with the Spirit, are you now being perfected and reaching spiritual maturity by the flesh.” 

But then, when cult of personality reigns, what is foolish, senseless or even nonsensical becomes tolerable (or ignorable) because at some point in the successful multiplication, no one dares or wants to conceive/imagine that the church can exist, even thrive, without the leader. By that stage, the two have sadly become one. I guess that is why G.K. Chesterton once reminded us this: “Tolerance is the virtue of the man without convictions.”

For her existence is the seed that he had planted, a seed that bears his name and signature. As such, confronting the leader/founder who planted the first seed is no different from chopping down the tree that has given all those under it spiritual shade and economic shelter. The mutuality and dependability are less for one’s spiritual edification and more about a way of survival, that is, a way of protecting one’s security and rice bowl.

However perverted this may sound, or blasphemous, haven’t we seen enough of such falls from grace (arising from the cult of personality) throughout recent history of the church because the people who support the one who leads rather stay quiet than stand up to be counted? 

Let me end with a scripture about what enduringly authentic leadership means to me. 

“We who are strong have an obligation to bear with the failings of the weak, and not to please ourselves. Let each of us please his neighbor for his good, to build him up. For Christ did not please himself, but as it is written, “The reproaches of those who reproached you fell on me.” (Romans 15:1-3). 

Yes, leaders are not elevated in ministry to please themselves. The reward of their sacrifices is not the misery of the fruit of their ministry. Indeed, the reproaches of men fell on Christ, even when He bore the stripes on his back. 

And a church is where a genuine community elevates the weak by the arms of the humbled strong. That obligation flows from the love of our Saviour, a love that not only overcomes the world, it also brings healing and hope to it. 

For me, that is the enduring mark of a leader. He is mostly unseen. He doesn’t crave visibility. At times, he is even despised, misunderstood. He doesn't care, and neither does it affect what he cares about. And he is always mindful that he owns nothing in this world, for he is just a faithful steward, a fellow sojourner, and a broken soul on his/her way to healing and spiritual growth. A growth, not by might, power or fame, but by His spirit, a spirit from the sacrifices made at Calvary.

 

Eugene Peterson - the Mess Part 1.

I recall a time when the late Pastor Eugene H. Peterson was asked by a young woman in his Church, “What do you like best about being a pastor?” 

He said. “The mess”. Yes, he said that - the mess. That’s what came out of his mouth, unplugged. Later, he clarified: “Well, not exactly a mess, but coming upon something unexpected that I don’t know how to handle, where I feel inadequate. Another name for it is miracle that doesn’t look like a miracle but the exact opposite of miracle. A slow recognition of life, God’s life, taking form in a person and context, in words and action that takes me off-guard.”

He added: “Theologian Karl Rahner was once asked if he believed in miracles. His reply? “I live on miracles – I couldn’t make it through a day without them.” Still another name for it is mystery. Pastors have ringside seats to this kind of thing. Maybe everyone does, but I often feel that pastors get invited into intimacies that elude a more functional and performance way of life.””

Imagine one who wrote countless of books, won a Gold Medallion for The Message: The Bible in Contemporary Language, has a degree in Philosophy and several honorary doctoral degrees under his belt, and founded a church in 1962, “Christ Our King Presbyterian Church” in Maryland, which he had served for 29 years before retiring in 1991, and all that vast and deep experiences compressed into this answer: “the mess, the miracle, and the slow recognition of life, God’s life, taking form in a person and context, in words and action that takes me off-guard.” 

(Off guard? Who and what can still surprise such a towering intellectual?) 

Anyway, I believe that kind of miracle, that kind of unravelling and unfolding, the furnace-defying life, takes a lifetime to minister to a lifetime. 

Alas, there’s no overnight changes. Be extremely wary of it. For a nocturnal turn of a life is largely superficial, mostly transient, if not wholly deceptive. True transformation is always about the anonymity of small changes, because sunlight burns when it is concentrated; but it nurtures when it is moderated, carefully measured, like a silent dance of trust, patience and hope.

The farmer knows that intimately. It is a truth that is timeless for him. He has no illusion about seeds. They are all the same. Their smallness is never alluring. Their uniformity doesn’t inspire hope. 

A life like a seed is like that. It is messy. It is unsightly. It is even deformed. But the miracle is not in that seen state, that unripe condition. The miracle is in the slow recognition of a life, that dedication to press on, to bring that life into fruition, into the light. 

For a farmer does not plant a nondescript seed and then return in an hour, clear the soil, exposing the seed, and expect a harvest. If he keeps doing that, he will kill that seed, smother a life. 

Nothing grows in haste. Overnight changes is a myth. Life’s trajectory cannot end with one smug stroke. It needs to be drawn against the axis of time, hope, patience, resilience, and most of all, love.

Jesus’ parables is all about that; it is about a seed that wasn’t, that shouldn’t, that couldn’t, yet, in his hand, a life fully dedicated to another, that same seed bore a garden, and that garden enriched many lives. Indeed, gratitude begets gratitude because grace abounding transforms even a life most unlikely. 

That is, to me, the highest definition of what it means to be pastoral, that is, a shepherd who tends to his flock in the most mundaneness of life, yet at the same time, surrounded by the most miraculous beauty of one’s life-source. That is why a true shepherd is never overwhelmed by circumstances because as he embraces his sheep, he knows deep within that he is in turn embraced by the one who tends to his life.

At the end of the day, as a pastor, it is never just about solving a problem, attending to an issue, fulfilling a target, astounding a crowd, or achieving worldly recognition. It is however about nurturing a life, even if no one ever gets to know about it. 

The shepherd doesn’t care whether his rescue of a sheep would be photographed and published, archived for all to marvel. All he cares about is the rescue, even for only one who has gone astray. When a shepherd is obsessed with the fame of a rescue, he like the impatient farmer who couldn’t wait for an overnight harvest, kills the soul as well as his own. 

Let me end with the good pastor’s words (Eugene Peterson), something we can all learn from: -

“Incrementally, without noticing what I was doing, I had been shifting from being a pastor dealing with God in people’s lives to treating them as persons dealing with problems in their lives. I was not being their pastor. I could have helped and still been their pastor. But by reducing them to problems to be fixed, I omitted the biggest thing of all in their lives, God and their souls, and the biggest thing in my life, my vocation as pastor.”

“I began to assess what was going on. Unaware of what I was doing, I had been making a subtle shift in attitude toward the people to whom I was pastor – and I had been doing it for several months. I was trading in the complexities of spiritual growth in congregation for the reduced dimensions of addressing a problem that could be named and understood. I had been doing this quite a lot.”

Indeed, not everything that could be named and understood cries out for a solution. At the risk of reducing a life to a religious label for targeted resolution, oftentimes, a companion in another’s life journey is silent, and the greatest comfort or encouragement one receives is the sound his companion’s feet makes, just to know he is nearby. 

E.M. Bound once said: “The (pastor)…is not a professional man; his ministry is not a profession; it is a divine institution; a divine devotion.” And if I may add, his church is not in the walls he hides behind. Neither the hierarchies he has built for himself that tower in babellian wonders. His church however is in the heart of every sheep that walks into his life. That heart is open, wall-less, and it is not about trading problems for solutions, but one’s vulnerability for another.