Leadership that matters - Shepherd vs Sheepherder.

 

What a leader says must make sense. That is the litmus test for me. 

In a sense, what makes sense is grounded on simple principles. Essentially, there is a consistency and coherency in his words and actions. His actions, based on sound principles, are always enduring, plain, mostly unseen, behind the scenes, quietly impacting lives, but without fail, open to correction, learning as he or she adapts, and always hopeful, especially of the potential of the people under his charge. 

Such a leader doesn’t say to his people, “where are you going?” and then run in front of them, in the direction they have chosen, and say, “follow me”. That’s not how Jesus led. 

In all his humanity, Jesus laid down the cost for his disciples. He put it out there for them. “Count the cost,” he said. He did not say, “choose the price tag.” His principles are non negotiable. His leadership is not emotional. It is not about what you want to pay; it is about what you are prepared to give up in order to live a disciplined life that bears fruit. 

He said, “follow me”, and his disciples have not the faintest idea what was in store for them. Jesus took the time to build them up from within so that when their time comes, they have what it takes to transform lives, especially their own. Jesus knew that one can never calm the storm if the storm in one’s heart is still unsettled. But I digress...

Let me say that firm leadership does not lead from above, from a place of creature comfort. He is called to be a valley-side companion, not a mountain top director. He is definitely not a disc jockey standing alone on the grand stage rah-rah-ing the trance-like crowd. 

When Jesus calmed the storm, he was standing in front of his trembling disciples, not behind them. If there were any loose debris taken up by the wind, his body would be the first to take the first projectile strike.

Let us be reminded that there is a scripture in Numbers that reads: “Let the Lord, the God of the spirits of all flesh, appoint someone over the congregation who shall go out before them and come in before them, who shall lead them out and bring them in, so that the congregation of the Lord may not be like sheep without a shepherd.” 

That’s firm leadership, one that goes before the congregation, comes in before them, and leads them out as well as brings them in. 

It’s not stationary leadership. It’s active, proactive. It’s word lived out, not just word spoken, however much they excite the senses. That’s what makes sense about leadership. It’s word embodied, word empowered, and word transforming. Not just words, period. 

Finally, we must not forget that there is a difference between a shepherd and a sheep-herder. If you google it, “a sheep-herder is a person who herds sheep in large numbers in unfenced country. A shepherd is a person employed to guard, tend, and herd sheep, especially at pasture.”

A sheep-herder goes everywhere with his sheep. Their numbers define him; his validation comes from it. His pasture is unfenced because his will goes with the urgency or trend of the time. And when one sheep strays, the sheep-herder is the least perturbed. 

A shepherd however knows his mission. It is anchored on timeless truth. He is the sentry guard for his sheep. He protects as well as nurtures. His pasture is a rich green meadow, where his sheep are always nourished, inside and out. 

A shepherd thus leads; a sheep-herder excites. A shepherd is never far from his sheep; a sheep-herder stands afar. A shepherd takes the first hit; a sheep-herder hides behind his sheep. And a shepherd goes out of his way even for one sheep; the sheep-herder can afford to lose a few. 

And the shepherd leads under the employ of the one who calls him. The one who went before him. And the one who gave his life for him, and for all who are placed under him.

 

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.

 

 

Trump: God is on our side.

God is on our side, Trump proudly proclaimed. 

That’s not all. Trump declared: “Evangelical Christians of every denomination and believers of every faith have never had a greater champion, not even close, in the White House, than you have right now.”

In his speech at Ministerio International El-Rey Jesus, a church with a predominantly Hispanic congregation, he said: - 

“We’ve done things that nobody thought was possible. Together, we’re not only defending our constitutional rights. We’re also defending religion itself, which is under siege.”

Actually, if you think about it, Christianity was born out of the furnace, and not at the podium. Jesus himself avoided all that. He walked away from the crowd. He prayed alone in the early hours of the morning. He rejected Pilate’s offer to save himself. He told him his kingdom is not of this world.

That is why Nietzsche once said that the last Christian died on the Cross, not by way of a state funeral, or whose body was preserved in a mausoleum. 

If you want to find enduring faith, transforming hope, you must not forget its birthplace: it’s in a manger, not a palace; it’s in the wilderness, not in the synagogue; it’s at Calvary, not in a political rally.

So, Christianity was born under siege. When the rose of Sharon was trampled on, bloodied, it released a comforting fragrance, and its beauty and majesty became known throughout the world, even today.

But I guess, Christianity today is different. It takes its place in the highest pulpit of the land, at the head of government, the apex of power, fame and wealth. 

Alas, we have given to Caesar what belongs to Caesar, and did not stop there. We went further to come together to offer to Caesar that which belongs to God too. 

Our faith is now on a man that has promised us that he “would renew the importance of religion and family” and “had vowed that he would toughen restrictions on abortion and would take action to safeguard students and teachers’ First Amendment rights to pray in our schools.”

Indeed, we have become who we have adored. We have become a quid pro quo believer and our faith is about what we can get in return for casting our favour and vote. It is more transactional, than transcendent, more tangible than intangible, and more self-preserving than self-sacrificing. 

And Trump knows our buttons well. It is in his playbook, The Art of the Deal. He has found an easy bait when he said: “We can’t let one of our radical left friends come in here because everything we’ve done will be gone in short order.” 

Well, the truth of our faith is that nothing we have done is forever. Power corrupts. Fame fades. And no man can serve both God and money. Even our life is but for a season. 

If we as believers wish to pursue after things that are eternal, after a life that has overcome all worldly temptations, and after victory over death that has lost its sting, we look to the Cross, not to the promises of men. We stand on His word, and not on the enticing words of men.

For people like Trump and his promises come and go - only His word has stood the test of time and the worst of it. 

And for this reason, it is never about fearing what we’ve done will be gone in short order. It is always about fearing what we’ve done will cause us to be lost forever. Because in the end, the cost of a lie will cost us everything, whether in a marriage, in our relationship or in our faith.

When we are however prepared to pay the cost of truth, whatever the price, we stand on neither the promises of men nor their enticing words. At times, we stand alone in the footsteps of our Saviour who Himself stood alone before the Cross. 

So, God is not on anyone’s side. He stands as the Rock of Ages, and the question is, whose side are you on?

The Issue of the Heart - Monday Morning Musing.

Monday morning musing...

If you look at how Jesus led then and how a typical cell or home group in church leads today, the difference is glaring. 

Think about it. 

Jesus’ time with the twelve was everyday, all day, for three years. Altogether, if you do the maths, it’s about 9000 hours of life together, that is, sharing, sleeping and teaching, especially by example, by life encounters, by signs and wonders, by prayers, by rebuking, by silence, by calming the storms of life, and by having hearty meals together. 

How about us? How much time do we spent with our home group? 2 hours a session on a weekday? Some three hours? Every week, two hours? 

How about individual meet ups? Another two hours? And informal gathering, quarterly? 

So, put together, we have about the standard 2 hours a week for three years, and that comes up to 320 hours. 

And if we add those time of individual meetings (even though not in a group context) and the quarterly gatherings for three years, maybe we can push it up to 400 to 500 hours invested in a cell. 

Now, the comparison seems unfair because times are different. Jesus did tell them about the cost. He demanded that they counted it. The Cross they have to bear is not only about sacrifices of time, but family, loved ones too. He asked them to follow him, period, not meet up every week, have a hot meal, and go home after that. 

Today, our cell group experiences are so different. We confine ourselves in a room or a hall, and hand out prepared notes, with three or four questions to address or tackle. 

We have our standard worship and praise of 10 to 20 minutes. We go into introduction and then discussion. We end with a prayer and then fellowship before we call it a night. 

Cell group dynamics vary in intensity, depth and intimacy. 

Some gel well, others are largely a touch and go affair. Still others suffer from declining membership because the members don’t feel connected and the leaders are largely disillusioned, exhausted having to juggle work, family and ministry. 

But my point is this...no, it is not about the difference between Jesus’ time and ours. It is not about the 9000 hours invested over three intense, intimate years and ours of about 400 to 500 hours of “let’s meet again next week, and don’t forget to read up chapter so-and-so.”

It is not even about the difference of how structured ours are and how impromptu, most times, spontaneous Jesus leadership was when he led the twelve. 

Ultimately, it is about the human heart. That’s what it all boils down to. The eras may have changed, with technology, civilization progression, and science advancement, but the heart is still the same. That is why, corny or otherwise, the issue of the heart is indeed the heart of the issue. 

Let me just say that Jesus’ 9000 hours spent with his twelve was not a resounding success in His lifetime. Underscore “lifetime.” 

History has shown that they had failed Him even at the time of the Cross. During his lifetime, they were struggling to emulate their Saviour, to follow in His footsteps. 

The disciples have all kinds of issues not uncommon to the ones we experience today. They have fear issues, doubts issue, drowning issues, rebellion issues, ego issues, greed issues, racist issues, and suicide issue - the last issue ended in a disciple’s death. 

Make no mistakes, His disciples have ideas, opinions, tensions, clashes, struggles, values, and strong, stubborn wills of their own. 

Their hearts were not transformed and lives impacted until Jesus declared “it’s finished”. And if they were prematurely judged during the lifetime of Jesus, the world of Christianity might just be viewed as another ancient cult no different from the rest of the ancient myths of gods and goddesses. 

Going back to my point about the heart of the issue in the context of a cell or home group, I think the words of senior pastor Gareth Weldon Icenogle puts it most aptly. He wrote: -

“All human communities exist in a state of brokenness and ambivalence, caught between the seventh day shalom of God and the temptation to withdraw into the “darkness” and “chaos” of the first day...small groups are trapped in the “paradox” of hunger for intimacy (“it’s not good to be alone”) and fear of intimacy (“they sewed fig leaves to cover themselves”).”

I harbour no delusions about the human heart. Neither do I underestimate its potential. The same heart that plots another’s downfall is also the one that sacrifices for others. 

From darkness or chaos to peace, the journey is a long, and sometimes terrifying one. The disciples struggled to align their hearts to the heart of their Saviour just as we today struggle to align ours to His.

Although brokenness and the hunger for intimacy come together as a bridge to healing and peace, yet we struggle to connect because that is also where we are liable to be broken. And for many, this is not their first time. That is our fear of intimacy, resulting in a resolute resignation in favour of being alone. 

That is also the challenge of small groups today. That is, the challenge to build upon brokenness by inviting them to be even more vulnerable, knowing that when they open and give of their hearts to another, sharing the hurts and confusion, the chaos and hopelessness, they might themselves experience brokenness, greater uncertainty and pain. 

But Jesus knew that that is the only way to transform a heart. Not by sewing fig leaves to cover ourselves, hiding our brokenness, but by confronting the pain, transcending the brokenness, and embracing a new perspective of hope beyond the burdens and cares of this world. 

And when Jesus calls us to come and die to self, He is not telling us to harden our heart so that we are beyond brokenness. He however calls us to brave through our trials with it so that in our brokenness, we may receive healing, restoration and peace. That is the enduring resilience of Calvary from the one who is also the author and finisher of our faith.

YA Retreat: Identity.

I was at a leaders’ retreat for young adult (YA) over the weekend. We gathered to chart the course for next year and to bond with one another. 

It started with a bike ride at Pulau Ubin on Friday afternoon, a cosy peranakan dinner, an intense discussion at night, morning breakfast thereafter, and another round of discussion followed by lunch at the famous Changi Village’s nasi lemak stall, and after that, we were home bound. 

Unavoidably, the word we were trying to grapple with was “identity”. What is our identity in the YA? 

Well, I will not go into the details of what was discussed, but let’s just say that on paper, it was not too difficult to put identity into words. 

But we wanted to go much deeper, to put words into action. That is, to make it real, impactful and meaningful to and for every young adult so that they may take ownership and embrace it, and in turn be inspired by. 

Call me old fashioned, but I believe symbolism and meta-narrative still matter in a world of fake news, postmodernist truths and individual expressionism. 

Take light for example. The image that comes to mind is a light bulb, a torchlight, a campfire or the rising sun. I can also think about a long, dark tunnel with a light at the end.

Undoubtedly, those images inspire deeply for those struggling in their own trial. It speaks of hope, end of pain, and eventual overcoming for those who are never weary in well-doing for in due season a harvest awaits. 

But there is still a palpable gap to bridge between light on paper and light in action or application. 

Being the light of Christ, salt and light, and a city on the hill are powerful metaphors, but how do we get the young adults to embody those powerful and timeless truths in the life they are living day by day, year by year? 

And the reality is, how do we as leaders be inspired and empowered by what is written on pulp paper when we ourselves are at times jaded, divided and distracted? 

In our discussion, we threw out many questions, and many definitions of identity in a youth adult ministry. Honestly, in the end, it was a fruitful discussion not so much that we have nailed what identity meant to us in a general consensus. 

The truth is, we didn’t nail it. In our intense discussion, we did not come up with anything that is new or novel under the sun. But I believe that while there is nothing new under the sun, there is a lot of “old things” we do not know with enough depth. 

I also believe that familiarity may breed contempt, but I can expect nothing less than contempt if we are only familiar with it and are never deeply convicted by it. For, yes, familiarity may breed contempt, yet conviction breeds transformation, and transformation however long it takes reaps a life worth living for Christ. 

So, what is our identity as a young adult ministry? 

As I had written above, each of us was invited to offer one practical definition of identity and the usual familiar words came up. To the skeptic, it may appear to be a hot tubbing session of devising grand idealism. But let me address that by saying this, our contributions converge rather dynamically, organically and spontaneously on one word, love. 

However much we wanted to eke out a definition with a “wow!” factor, we ended up with...waitforit...love.

In essence, in our brainstorming, we could not escape from what Jesus once said when he was asked about the greatest commandment. There are only two: “Love Him with all your heart, soul, and mind” and “love your neighbor as yourself”.

Well, apart from the two greatest commandments, love exists only in vain ideology, grand idealism and self-serving postmodernist values. 

Alas, you can reinvent the wheel for some things, like putting seats at the periphery and it becomes a Ferris wheel. Or assigning numbers and multiple slots and it becomes a roulette wheel. 

But you can’t reinvent the wholeness of love because it is not measured by numbers assigned or seats attached. It is however measured by the distance you travel with it, and I know of one man who once went all the way with and for love. He made all the difference. He did not reinvent love in the way we wanted it, but he embodied and lived it out in a journey that has transformed many lives.

Mind you, love is a simple word, mundane to many, too familiar to some, and even viewed as hypocritically offensive to others. But as the saying goes, “fish is the last to discover water”, so it is with love when we take it for granted or treat it as an inconvenient truth, setting timeless standards our fleshly desires naturally rebel against.

But say or feel what you like, take water out of the ocean and all the fishes will die. Same here with love. Drain it out of our lives and we will destroy one another eventually. With love, all are elevated. Without it, no one stands in the end. 

So, let me wrap up with what I felt was a good definition of our YA identity. It was offered by a pastor. He said: “A blazelighter (young adult) is one who experiences the bountiful love of God and boldly expresses this love within and without the community.” 

And yes, ultimately, the challenge is this, is that too familiar to us, or are we truly convicted by it? 

For if it is the latter, we can indeed do all things through Christ.