Tag Archives: BOOM

Being On Top of the Mountain

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On our last hiking trek that my wife and I engaged in on our regular trail, Inspiration Point, I realized that I have an anxiety problem.

I mean, I knew I always had one. It was one of the blaring and glaring reasons why I failed my ordination interviews in 2010. I got nervous. I got anxious. And I couldn’t hold it in (on top of that, I had caffeine coursing through my veins. Not the best mix of things). So I was going 1000 mph, all the while being a spazz. It was a wreck.

Unfortunately, the BOOM thought that I had ADHD and “strongly recommended” that I go see a psychologist, therapist, or a counselor to help me deal with these “issues.” (The last quotation marks are for sarcastic purposes.)

Look, I know I don’t have ADHD. And I think it was wrong for the BOOM to so strongly think that I had ADHD without any previous contact and/or conversation with me. Perhaps their resident “psychologist” wanted to exert his/her presence on the board. I don’t know. But don’t they realize how intimidating the whole interview process is and can be? And that nerves can, unfortunately, take over a Candidate, so much so that they can’t sit still or give straight answers? You’re sitting in front of a group of “colleagues,” some who you have never met before, who have this strange authority and power over the course of your career for the next few years. And in the end, it’s strange that I went through all that for a “piece of paper” that certifies that I am ordained, when in my heart of hearts, in the deepest corners of my soul, mind, and being I just know that God has called me into a life of full-time ministry. I don’t need a piece of paper or a group of people or the Bishop to tell me otherwise. In the big picture of things, it’s just a piece of paper and nothing more. Perhaps a piece of paper some of us felt we had to sell our soul for. I kid, I kid.

What I do know, or more accurately, how I feel, is that the BOOM tosses around the recommendation to seek professional help/counseling as much and as often as a good Korean boy craves rice and kimchi (just in case you don’t get the reference: a lot). Sometimes, it just seems like a go-to response to the ordination candidate. You know, like when a good friend is pouring out his/her heart to you and it’s filled so much anguish and pain and you don’t know what to say or how to phrase words to help your friend in need. But you feel the need to respond, because at this point silence doesn’t seem like the best answer. You search deep in your heart to find words to say to let you know that you’re with this person — although you can’t really imagine what the struggle really feels like. After searching for words, you just come back to the one phrase that you’ve told people throughout your life: “I’ll pray for you.” Even if they’re not Christian, “Look, I know that you don’t believe in God, but hey, man. I’ll pray for you.” (Which, if we’re not careful, can be as offensive as “Go see a counselor because we don’t think you’re completely healthy.”)

After each phase of my candidacy process whether I passed or failed were continued, it always ended with the recommendation to go seek a spiritual director, a counselor, or a psychologist. Most of the time without a reason why. “Just go see one for the sake of seeing one”, it felt like. “We feel like you’re on the right track in your calling and it is obvious that God is doing great things in your church and in your youth ministry. We, feel, that you can benefit from seeking a counselor or a spiritual counselor as you continue your ministry.”

It can be as generic as “I’ll pray for you” can be, at times. Like a one-size-fits-all cure. Until, I passed and became a full member of the Cal-Pac Conference. There was no mention of seeking a counselor of any kind. Which made me kind of curious. I guess I don’t need one after going through all the hoops I had to go through? I would think, after feeling like a good trained seal, who can bark and jump through hoops on command, at Sea World, now would be a good time to go seek a counselor to deal with all the emotional, physical, psychological, and spiritual stress brought on by the process and dealing with the BOOM and also the emotional, physical, psychological, and spiritual stress that we will accumlate as we engage in ministry and with God’s people.And funnily enough, when an opportunity came up for me to have a spiritual director recently, I signed up.

So the Board was concerned that I was dealing (struggling? battling?) with ADHD and recommended that I go seek help to deal with such issues. So, I did. I asked my health provider to provide a psychologist for me so that I can prove to the BOOM that they had no idea what in the hell they were talking about.

I met with my doctor. I gave him the letter that the Board gave me about the recommendation. Within the first 15 minutes of our conversation, and to my relief, the doctor said, “Look. I don’t even have to any tests to know that you don’t have ADHD. And in my professional opinion, it was very unprofessional for this ‘Board’ to suggest that you even have it. What qualifications do they have? It’s rather irresponsible. At your age, you would be dealing with ADD, not ADHD, because with ADHD you would’ve been diagnosed much earlier in your life. Not in your 30′s. So, you don’t have to worry about that.”

But what we did talk about was how I deal with anxiety. And I totally agreed with him there. I don’t think I handle anxiety very well. As much as I want nerves of steel or ice cold water running through my veins, I think when I’m nervous or anxious, I have a hard time hiding it. We spent most of our sessions aftewards talking about anxiety issues.

So there I was, almost at the top of the hike, almost to Inspiration Point (which, even though I’ve seen it dozens of time, it doesn’t fail to inspire me each time I’m at the top. It’s a beautiful site).

I was sick that week, so the hike was harder than usual. I called upon Jesus’ name many, many times in between hacking, wheezing, and coughing.

As soon as I neared the top, my mind instantly went to what I must do when I get back down. Sermon prep. Bible study prep. Do I have any meetings tomorrow? Am I forgetting something? Did I send in the newsletter thing? I must be forgetting something. I forget something all the time. What was I gonna blog on? Did I have something to do for my parents? How long is it going to take to get down? Did I pay all the bills?

I was sitting on a rock at the top of the hill, trying not to cough out my lungs, and instead of being focused on the amazing sight in front of me, I was consumed with figuring what’s next on my to-do list.

Out of nowhere, Rob Bell’s Everything is Spiritual started playing in my head. In the video, there’s a part where he talks about Moses climbing to mountain and where God commanded Moses to be on top of that mountain and how that’s a brilliant commmand. Because, Moses would’ve exerted all his strength and energy walking up the mountain, that when he arrived on top of the mountain, he’ll just start planning his trek down. And God wanted to Moses to be on top of the mountain. Just be. Don’t think. Don’t plan ahead. Don’t think about the trip down. Just be on top of the mountain. With God. In the moment. Be fully present in the here and the now.

And that’s what I really struggle with. And, unfortunately, sometimes it shows in the way I interact with people.

I know that I have an hour before my next engagement, as I’m talking to this person in front of me. I don’t like to be late. So, I’m calculating how long it’ll take me to drive to the next place, factoring in traffic. This person has approximately 25 minutes in our conversation to give me a safe cushion for the next appointment. But, as this person or group goes over the allotted 25 minutes and the time gets closer for the next appointment, I start getting antsy and fidgety and I can’t help but play that mental game of — okay, if I walk out with them, I won’t be late. All the while, I’m engaging in conversation with this person or group of persons.

I don’t like that about me. For no good or real reason, I’m always a step ahead in my head, thinking about what’s up next, what lies ahead in the week — causing me to miss out what’s going on right here, right now.

Who knows how many burning bushes I’ve walked by because I’m paying attention to nothing around me that is in the here and now. Instead, my head’s in the cloud somewhere, somehow. Which is good — but totally counterproductive if I’m in the clouds all the time, missing out on the things that are happening on ground-level.

It’s something that this hike has helped me recognize. Now that I know it, I just need to deal with it. Work on it. Get better. More attentive. More present. Aware of the here and now.

There is a time to think ahead, to plan ahead, to dream– day dream even, to vision. But what I can’t do is spend all my time doing those things.

There are more times where I need to engage, to be present fully, to minister, to be ministered to, to enjoy, to love, to live… to, simply put, be on top of the mountain, and nothing more and nothing less.

So… Now What?

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So that happened this weekend.

It was an end of a long, often frustrating journey that began in 2007 and a journey I often blogged about. (I just realized I’m almost tall as the Bishop kneeling… but I digress). Each time I was continued (read: didn’t pass/failed) I wondered why I was going through all this and contemplated pursuing ordination elsewhere. This year, I entered the process for what I really believed would be the last time. I resolved that I would always be Wesleyan at heart no matter where I ended up and more importantly, I firmly believed that God had called me into ministry and that can take place anywhere, even if it meant outside of the UMC.

Maybe it was all in my head, but this time, the exams and interviews weren’t as draining as they were in the previous 2 years. And you know what they say, 3rd time is a charm. Or whatever.

I understand that when I was eligible for full connection, I entered the process very angry and with a huge chip on my shoulder accompanied by an air of arrogance and an ego the size of … something big. (I’m tired… )

I entered the first year of examinations with a closed fist ready to fight. I entered this year’s examination with open hands and heart, not in the sense that I was willing to really “listen” to what the Board of Ordained Ministry had to say and sell my soul for their acceptance (not that that’s ever the case), but in the sense I turned everything over to God and said, “Where you lead, I will go.”

During my commissioned years, I joked (read: threatened) that when I finally get ordained, I’m going to no longer hold back my words, but instead, say everything that has eaten at my heart since I started this journey in 2007. Everything that I saw wrong with our system and our methodology, I was going to vocalize it, maybe through this blog, maybe through emails, maybe to people who would be willing to listen. I had a lot on my chest, and I couldn’t wait to get that weight off my mind.

So. Now that it’s all said and done and I’m ordained, well… I have nothing to say. Well, no, more truthfully, I have nothing constructive to say.

Sure, we know that our church is broken. Anyone who steps into a UM church can see that something may be wrong. We’re not as big and strong as we used to be. We insiders know that our system and methodology is flawed and a lot of it, broken.

There’s no point of beating a dead horse with a stick.

And I sure as hell don’t want to be “THAT GUY” who does nothing but criticizes his ‘employer’ but isn’t willing to do anything about it.

Instead, I’m filled with gratitude. I’m thankful for all the people who helped me along this long journey. From all the mentors I had to my senior pastors to all the lay folks who encouraged me and then were so excited for me that I (finally) passed, to the ‘unofficial’ mentors, to my friends and colleagues who let me bitch about things and gave me solid words of comfort, advice and critique, to my family, and especially to my wife, who really … well, I know that I couldn’t have gotten through any of it without her. She saw it all. The anger, the frustrations, the lows, the ups… she encouraged me when I needed, scolded me when that was needed, pushed me, made sure I was sharply dressed for my interviews… she kept me sane in moments where I wanted to bounce off walls. Or more truthfully, bounce other people’s heads off walls.

And of course, I’m humbled that God would still call me into ministry; that for some reason, God has faith in me to lead His people.

In the end, words are cheap. Any Joe the Plumber can host a blog and point out everything wrong with the world today.

So really, the time has come for me to do more than just talk.

Come July, I no longer have the safety net of the Senior Pastor covering my ass. As someone said, “You won’t have a higher pay check to defer to” which has been my favorite thing to do as an associate pastor.

As the days approach closer, the butterflies in my stomach grow bigger. At times I feel inadequate. Other times I feel ill-equipped, to the fault of no one. I mean, all the books and classes in the world can’t fully prepare you for the real life thing. Experience has always been the best (and often cruelest) teacher. We learn as we go. Mistakes will be made. But one hopes that we learn from our mistakes and that it propels us forward instead of chaining us inside a cage of fear, insecurity and/or indecision.

And of course, I’m excited. I’m excited to see what God has plans for me and St. Mark.

I’m excited to go back to where I lived as an early teenager.

I find peace in the midst of my anxiety and excitement in the faith and knowledge that God has truly called me to this church, and that God has a plan for me and for the church– that all of this is God’s plan for this part of my life.

And I come in without too much greed in the sense that I want to go and add numbers to our pew. Instead, my hopes and dreams is to be a place where transformation through faith, grace and love happens. I don’t have desires to become one of the biggest churches in our city and our conference. But I have a deep desire in being a relevant and effective church that works with its community to bring transformation through God’s message of hope, love and grace. Simply put, my hope and prayer is to “make disciples for the transformation of the world.”

Now that I have the “freedom” to say anything I want without the fear of someone on the BOOM being angry with me, it’s funny that I don’t want to say anything without any warrant. Past Me might be a little annoyed with Present Me…

My wife, a few years ago, got me this art thing and hung it in my office so that I would see it everyday as I sit in front of my desk. It’s a often quoted quote from Gandhi: You must be the change you wish to see in the world.

What a fitting quote for the start of this new chapter in my life.

Draft Day

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One of my childhood dreams were like many of boys: to be a professional athlete.
I’m sad to admit how much sports consumes my life. I love it. I’m obsessed with it. I get too emotionally attached to my teams and favorite players. I don’t think it’s healthy. But it’s fun.

I like watching the first round of the NFL draft, as the kids are decked out in their custom-tailored suits and awkwardly smiling at the cameras when they’re not drafted when they thought they’d be. Even cooler when kids who are a guaranteed first-round pick skips the draft altogether and hang out doing something else, like fishing. 

I think today is the closest I’ll ever get to somewhat know what it feels like being a prospective player.

Some time today, I’ll receive a call from someone on the BOOM (Board of Ordained Ministry) to let me know if I passed my ordination interviews, much like how a draftee will get a call from the head coach or general manager of a team to let him know that he’s been drafted by the team.

Sure. There’s a huge difference between the two scenarios, I know.

However, there’s a lot of queasiness, a lot of uncertainty, a lot of ‘what if…’, a lot of butterflies, a lot of expecting the worst and planning like wise… which I’m sure crosses the minds of those who are in the draft.

Okay. Perhaps, comparing myself to first rounders is a bit of a far stretched. Maybe it’s more like someone who’s going to go in the 6th or 7th round of the draft. If they don’t get drafted, their options are limited: try to be a undrafted free agent or pursue a different calling in life.

Either way, the butterflies can consume you.

So here’s to today.
Whatever the outcome may be, may I still be humble and grateful to the God who loves me and has called me.

It’s Not Just About HOW You Pray Or Worship… Right?

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I know this may not be the wisest thing to say at this time, but let me vent. Just a little, please.

The truth is, no matter how objective the BOOM (Board of Ordained Ministry in the United Methodist Church) wants to be, it’s really difficult to take out your personal bias or preference while reading a candidate’s paper or interviewing a candidate. (Just like with anything in life. It’s hard for us to be completely objective). And I’d be completely okay with that, if they admit it. But that’s a different story.

Worship, apparently seems to be a sticking point with me and the BOOM. Both years that I applied for full membership, they had something to say about the worship service I recorded. They had some valid points about the theology of worship, but they seem to have  a bigger concern with the kind of worship that was taking place.

2009, my papers did not pass. I was invited to have a “conversation” with a couple of BOOM members about the papers. When we got to the worship paper, the person who read my paper and watch the recorded worship service said, “You know, I think you’re too casual in your worship.”
I asked him to clarify.
“Well, by looking at your tape, I see a lot of white hairs in the congregation. But you’re talking very casual. You’re dressed casual. And it’s not matching up with the your congregation. I think, with the age of your congregation, you should be more formal in your language and your dress. Why not wear a suit? Or a robe?”
What that had to do with worship was beyond me. I explained to him that when I first got to that setting, I did wear a suit and tie every Sunday. It wasn’t until the church members started “complaining” that I was too formal. The congregation, along with the senior pastor, suggested and urged that I dress like everyone else, a bit more casual. (When I moved from that church, they gave me a stole made out of denim so that I can still feel casual when ever I have to robe up).
And I asked him, “Isn’t a bit presumptuous and unfair that you make such a broad judgement without knowing my congregation or me?”
He blinked a couple of times and said, “But still. Be more formal.”

Last year, during the interviews, one of the interviewers said, “You know, what you guys do at your church… it seems so fluffy…”
That statement reflects preference of worship more than theology of worship, doesn’t it? Or is it just me?

But I remember feeling my blood pressure rise. I had to summon everything that was within me to hold my tongue. In fact, I actually bit my tongue so that I wouldn’t say anything stupid or damning. I already knew that I totally screwed up my previous interview section, so I didn’t want to mess up this interview section.

Here’s what I wanted to say: Does it matter how we worship? Can we dictate how someone should respond to God’s presence and blessing in their lives? If the worship is God centered and focus, if the worshippers heart is coming from the right place, is there really a wrong or right way to worship?

The picture in the beginning of this post is of my youth from Hawaii praying and getting prayed over during a winter retreat.
The video following is a clip from a Korean church’s dawn prayer service, where they are engaging in 통성기도 (tongsong kido).

That’s the kind of prayer life I grew up with. My father is a prayer warrior. My dad took everything to prayer. Late at night, he’d go to church to pray by himself. Early in the morning, he would go to church to pray. Sometimes he would be gone hours at a time. But prayer was not enough. He engaged in fasting. He did 4 40 day fasts in his life. His appearance after 40 days will always be engrained in my mind. His calves were as thick as my forearms. He engaged in many 20 day fasts. If you added all the days my father fasted in his lifetime, it’ll add up to more than 365 days.
That kind of fervor and attitude is prevalent in the Korean Christian culture. Well, maybe not the way my dad fasted. But fasting and fervent prayer is part of our culture as Christians (and something that I miss being part of).

So when someone says “prayer warrior”, whether it’s fair or not, there’s a comparison to the “prayer warriors” I’ve been surrounded by all my life.

People (and a few pastors) have often shared that they don’t have time to pray. So they pray at red lights in traffic.

If I were to say, “That’s not prayer!” It wouldn’t be very pastoral of me. But, I feel that’s what the BOOM has basically said to me in the past two years regarding worship.

Of course, there’s always more we can do. That’s a given. We can always pray more. I can encourage someone to try to find another time of the day to pray on top of the red lights, like while washing dishes. And pray a short prayer first thing in the morning. Say a prayer before you go to bed. Say a prayer while you’re commuting. Offer a short prayer while at work. There’s always something more you can do. And the more you seek God, the more of a priority it becomes in your life. So find every opportunity to be in prayer, and eventually your day will revolve around your prayer time, not the other way around.

Not: you call that prayer? It’s so fluffy.

Who am I to judge how someone connects with God?
Who am I to say to a person who has no idea of how Korean Christians pray, s/he is not engaging in the type of prayer that I call “prayer”?

So, then, who is to say that the type of worship that shaped me, the type of worship that I feel most connected to with God, is “fluffy”?  Or too casual? Or not enough, even?

Why do we, as churches or pastors, try to monopolize worship?
Worship can take place outside of a church building. And it should!
Worship can happen without a choir or an organ. In fact, worship can occur without any music or musicians or choir directors or church music divas.
Worship can happen without robes and stoles.

In fact, what I really wanted to say to the BOOM member at the time was, “Does God care how we worship? Would God really deem the worship as fluff?”

Parents, do you care how your kids express their love and gratitude for you?
Do they have to come dressed in their best clothes, sit firm, still and proper, sing some songs you sang to them when they were kids, and then finally say, “I love you?”
Or does it make your day when they say, “Mom, Dad, you guys are awesome. I love you guys.” as their dressed in their PJs about to the drift off into sleep?

I mean, do we have to recreate our wedding day every time we express our love to our spouses?

In all honesty, I believe that these “worship wars” is more about me and you than it is about God. The style of worship is our preference, not God’s.
In Amos 5, God says:

21 “I hate, I despise your religious festivals;
your assemblies are a stench to me.
22 Even though you bring me burnt offerings and grain offerings,
I will not accept them.
Though you bring choice fellowship offerings,
I will have no regard for them.
23 Away with the noise of your songs!
I will not listen to the music of your harps.
24 But let justice roll on like a river,
righteousness like a never-failing stream!

What kind of worship do you think God prefers?
Do you think God’s in the presence of a contemporary worship and saying, “No no no no no! NO NO! DRUMS HAVE NO PLACE IN MY SANCTUARY!!!”

When someone’s saying a quick prayer at red light, do you think God is saying, “No, no, no!!! You’re not talking to me right!”

Maybe, it’ll be more like, “I wish you would talk to me more.”
But I can’t say for sure. But it’s how I like to think God reacts.

I do hope that the BOOM will be able to be more objective, and I believe that they can.
Or at least admit that they come in with certain ideas and expectations for clergy and understand clergy comes in all shapes, sizes, theologies, philosophies and beliefs.
For a denomination that values diversity, I have to say that during the ordination process, being too different from BOOM members’ theology, philosophy and belief is a very, very, very uncomfortable place to be. I found it to be much easier to try to figure out what the BOOM expects of a clergy rather than being the pastor God is calling me to be.

But more importantly, I just hope that we won’t try to keep putting God and connecting and responding to God in a box, as we all are accustom to doing.

I absolutely believe that worshiping God as a church is vital.
I think corporate worship is beautiful and a necessity in our faith journey.
But, I also believe that we can’t limit worship to just corporate worship. God is with us every second of our lives, not just during the time we’re sitting in pews. Worship needs to happen corporately. But worship also needs to happen outside of the walls of the church.

And really… is there a wrong way to connect and respond to God…?

The Deadline is Near

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I wanted to avoid writing about this. I can’t tell you why I didn’t want to talk about it. Not because it’s a secret, but simply, I don’t know why I didn’t want to write about it.
But it’s been consuming my mind more than anything this month.
I have sent off my ordination exams to the registrar of BOOM (Board of Ordained Ministry).

Now the oh-so-fun waiting game begins.

While I feel relieved that this is off my plate, I can’t help but feel bittersweet and … anxious about the whole thing.

I haven’t given myself to separate the emotions that go along with everything, so take what I say with a grain of salt.

I can’t help but think that this is the last time I put myself through this, regardless of the outcome.
If I pass my papers and pass my interviews, thanks be to God, because I know that would only be possible through God’s grace.

But if I stumble again through the process… at some point, I have to realize that what the UMC is looking for just might not be who I am called to be. Or there is something so fundamentally flawed within me, that I need to go and really address that and fix that.

I have never questioned my call into ministry. I know that with all I am, God has called me into a life of professional ministry. However, over the past few weeks, I have been questioning my call into the United Methodist Church. I know my theology will always be heavily Wesleyan influenced. Methodism is a part of my thinking and living within ministry.
But… I can picture myself doing ministry outside of the polity of the United Methodism. Do I want to? I’m not sure…

I’ll revisit this thought when I need to. And, who knows, I may never need to.

But, as I send the papers away, I know that my loyalty lies within God and that my life depends on God.
Where God chooses to use me, I will go. Even if that means that I will no longer be affiliated with the cross and flame.
And, I’m more okay with that than I thought I’d be…

Only time will tell.

It’s Not You, It’s Me

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The Break Up Staircase?

Image by jasoneppink via Flickr

Raise your hands if you ever used that excuse!
*Raises hand*

Has this ever been true?
It’s the worst break up line, because everyone knows that it’s mostly you. It may be some part of me, but really, it’s you.

Our Annual Conference is next week. It’s the MOST exciting time of the year!

Because the time is approaching closer, I’ve been thinking about the ordination process more. Especially those of us who were unfortunate to not pass this year.

There are many of us who haven’t passed on multiple attempts. And it sucks. It hurts. It’s annoying. It’s every negative emotion we can go through.

But it seems like we seem to be way too quick to blame the BOOM. Granted, we’ve all heard sketchy stories of BOOM members.
At some point, though, don’t we have to really look at us, and see where we might be not communicating our passion and calling clear enough? At some point, don’t we have to look hard into the mirror and really say, well, it’s not you (BOOM) it just might be me, and really mean it?

I was incredibly annoyed that the BOOM suggested, in my first time around (when I didn’t pass my exams) that I was angry towards the UMC.
I was even more angry when the second time around, the BOOM suggested that I go see a professional counselor to see if I may have ADHD.
However, during the interview, I know I came off as a bit of a spaz. The one constant constructive criticism I receive from congregation members about my preaching is, “please talk a bit slower.” I was told that by my speech professor in college. My preaching professor reminded me that I’m not in a race. I’m a fast talker. I’m animated. Add caffeine, anxiety and nerves to that mix, there might be a slight chance that I totally spazzed out and gave someone a “legitimate” concern about my attention span. I still don’t think it was a fair thing for them to say that to me, though.

BUT. I know that I had some role in having someone on the BOOM to reach that conclusion.

I know many of my colleagues who don’t pass and therefore drop out of the UMC system completely. I get that, too. But what about the conversations we’ve had about changing the system? What about the your passion for the Wesleyan theology? What about your energy in really doing something good for our denomination?
Just like that, you quit on us?
Which begs me to ask, how serious were you about your words earlier?

Of course, I’d respect and honor everything someone tells me about their decision to quit the process and the denomination altogether. And they may have real, legitimate reasons to do so.
But I hope they walk away bearing some of the blame, and not completely cast all of it on the BOOM and the denomination and not be so bitter towards the UMC.

My point is, we can’t always walk away blaming someone else for not seeing what we see.
For instance, if we get mad at our church members for not seeing, hearing or understanding our vision, at some point we have to ask, am I clearly communicating the vision for the church?
I feel that the BOOM doesn’t fail anyone for the sake of failing them. They seem to have legitimate concerns about certain areas of the candidate. Whether we agree with them or not, they saw something that we don’t see or don’t want to see.

It’s not always someone else’s fault.
Sometimes, it really is me, not you.

Sometimes, it’s really God saying, there’s more I want to teach you. Or God asking, why do you really want to pass the ordination process? Is it for acceptance? For approval of your peers?  For self-validation or self glory? To prove naysayers wrong? Or is it really because you’re ready to turn your life over into my hands?

I don’t know.
I just know that I no longer see the BOOM as a obstacle to burst through.
I know now that they’re not really my enemy. I’m not saying I view them, collectively, as friends, either.
But, they’re not “against” me as I may have previously thought.

And, I know that sometimes, it IS me. Not you.

주만 바라볼찌라

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February was a bad month.
The only thing damaged, really, was my pride. I guess.
But I learned a lot from this great disappointment. And a phrase has been stuck in my heart ever since that week. A motto for the year. Heck, for my life.

I had pass my written exams and was being interviewed for ordination and full membership in the Cal-Pac Annual Conference of the United Methodist Church.
Well. Looking back, I totally let my nerves get the best of me. I was jittery. Chatty. Unable to sit still. So much so, that the Board of Ordained Ministry (BOOM) thought that it might be wise for me to see if I had ADHD. They seem to have a knack of rubbing salt in the wound.

I was disappointed.
Angry even.
Who wouldn’t be?

You start wondering about things. Why didn’t I pass? What did I do wrong? Do I want to go through this again next year? How could I not pass? Which always leads to, they passed and I didn’t? What is wrong with me?
It didn’t help that the people I got commissioned with, which ended up being my covenant group, that all of them will be full members come next week. Leaving me the sole one left from that class still going through the process.
I hate losing. I hate not being first. I hate admitting that someone just might be better than me. A lot of things that I obviously still have to work through. And this was a great opportunity to work on those things. And I have. And am.

The following week, I had to go to my dad’s church. His friend from Korea was going to lead the revival at my dad’s church. At that point, I had gotten over the disappointment of not passing. But I still held on to a little anger and resentment toward the process. I didn’t really want to go. But, the pastor was one of the few I actually do remember from my childhood. And I do remember him being a very talented musician. Besides, I had to represent the Yoo household. The revival was dubbed as a “healing concert” and that the pastor was going to do a lot through his music. Which was going to help, because my Korean is getting worse and worse.

In the middle of the worship, he started playing this one song.
I recognized the song from my parents singing it.
I started singing along.
And, I couldn’t help it. Nor stop the tears from flowing.
I hate crying.
Especially in public.
But there I was, floods being unleashed from my eyes.

The chorus ends with this 주만 바라볼찌라 which is the title, (pronounced: joo mahn bah rah bohl jji rah).
It basically translates to: look only to Christ.

And it just hit me so hard. And I kept hearing, “Look only to me.”
Don’t look to the BOOM; there will only be resentment and anger.
Don’t look to your peers and friends; there will only be comparisons and unnecessary pride.
Don’t look to yourself; there will only be sentiments of failure.
Look only to me.
Look only to me.
Look only to me.

Over and over.

Sure enough, the healing concert did exactly what it was meant to do. And I walked in thinking that I didn’t need any sort of healing. Funny how much more God knows.

I felt the weight lift off from my shoulder.
In the following days, I was able to really look at the whole situation objectively. I took to heart what the BOOM recommended, joking about it. I was able to see how I really messed up and where I was strong. Most importantly, I was able to really laugh at it. And make fun of myself.
I failed. Er… got continued. So what? I got next year. And the year after that. And the year after that. (Which I hope it won’t get that far). But that doesn’t mean that I’m not effective. It doesn’t mean I’m not useful for God. It just means that I have to be patient and realize what God is trying to teach me and say to me in the process of failing. God has still ordained me. God has still set me apart to be a minister. No one can take that away from me. And the BOOM can’t change my calling just because they didn’t quite see it. Yet.

I need to keep this phrase in my mind for the rest of my life.
Look to only Christ.
I don’t need your approval, stranger who might stumble upon this blog.
I don’t need people to like me.
I don’t need to look for other people’s approval.
I don’t need to look at what other churches are doing.
I don’t need to see what my friends are accomplishing in their ministries.
I don’t need to look for validation in the people I work with and serve.

I need to only look at Christ.

And it’s always amazing how everything always falls into place, when I do that.

It’s very hard to not pay attention to the whispers around you.
It’s very tempting to look at everyone’s “greener” grass around you.
It’s very hard to not get caught up in other people’s opinions of you, your ministry and your church.
It’s very easy to get caught up in ourselves. To wallow in our self-pity.
It’s very easy to get lost in our troubles.
And in doing so, we may lose our way, our purpose and our mission in Christ.

May our hearts be fixed only on Jesus.
May our eyes be fixed only on Jesus.
May we look to no other things.
May we look only to Christ.

*UPDATE*
found a video of the pastor singing the song.
also, the translation, not done by me. just copied and pasted from somewhere. I wish I remembered where…

하나님의 사랑을 사모하는 자
하나님의 평안을 바라보는 자
너의 모든 것 창조하신 우리주님이
너를 얼마나 사랑하시는지
하나님의 찬양과 경배하는 자
하나님의 선하심을 닮아가는 자
너의 모든 것 창조하시는 우리 주님이
너를 자녀 삼으셨네
하나님 사랑의 눈으로
너를 어느때나 바라보시고
하나님 인자한 귀로써
언제나 너에게 기울이시니
어두움에 밝은 빛을 비춰주시고
너의 작은 신음에도 응답하시니
너는 어느곳에 있든지 주를 향하고
주만 바라볼찌라

All of those who worship the God’s everlasting love
Those who strive each day for the peace of His embrace
How he loves you, each and every one that he holds dear
Lord God who created everything

All of those who give Him their hearts in worship praise
Those who strive each day to grow closer to his grace
How he loves you, each and every one that he holds dear
Lord God who made you His child

With His eyes of burning love for you
He watches on you every single day
With His ears of mercy  great for you
He leans them to you every single day

In the darkness black He shines his blinding light
And he answers to your every smallest pleas
Wherever you may go, always walk the way of God
Look to Him who watches you

Angry Birds Are Not Your Friends At Night

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Angry Birds

Image by sheehanpaul via Flickr

I couldn’t sleep.
How do you sleep on the eve of something big?
But here’s what you don’t do: play Angry Birds, in your bed. In the dark.
I tried to go to bed around 11p.
But I couldn’t fall asleep. I didn’t mind the tossing and turning. It’s my mind that bothered me. I just kept thinking about the interviews and playing the worst-case scenarios. It was getting me more riled up and agitated. So I decided that I needed a distraction from my thoughts. I didn’t want to go to the living room to watch TV. Didn’t want to surf the web. But, I saw that my iPod was next to me, so I decided to play Angry Birds for the first time in months. That was a little before midnight.

The next time I looked at the clock, it was 130a. Where did the time go?

Did I put it right away? Of course not. I had to beat this stage with 3 stars. But then, that turned into, “one more stage.” And next thing you know, it’s 230a. So. If you have a restless nights, Angry Birds is not, I repeat NOT, the solution.

I woke up early this morning.
Headed to church.
Had a good time of prayer and worship.
I feel good and (for now) am at a good place.

We’re going to head out in about an hour or so.

I’ll be alright.

Thank you for all your prayers, thoughts and wishes of good luck.

All I Can Do Now is Wait

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Christmas in the post-War United States

Image via Wikipedia

And sometimes, the waiting is the worst part.
But ’tis the season for waiting, I guess.
Some of us can’t wait until we can open the Christmas presents that has been taunting and teasing us under the Christmas tree. What’s in it? Did I get what I asked for? The anticipation is killing me!

For those of us who profess Christ as our Lord, we wait for the eight pound, six ounce new born baby Jesus who comes into the world as the light of the world, offering us hope as love comes down from heaven to earth.

I’m more concerned with the latter than the former. I don’t have anything I truly desire (and need/have the use for) this Christmas season. Our church was challenged to give 25% of what they spend on Christmas to our Miracle Offering that will be taken in all our Christmas Eve worship celebrations. 100% of the money given will be given to Nicaragua, our local winter shelter and Family Promise.

But in the back of my mind, as much as I don’t want it to, the thoughts of my ordination paper lingers.
Yesterday, I sent off my papers to the Registrar for Full Connection. He sent me an email today confirming that he received it and that I should hear from him around January 10.
Last year, my papers failed. I wasn’t as upset as I thought I would be.
This year, I put more effort and thought into the papers. Failure will be a major disappointment. “Positive thoughts,” I keep telling myself. Actually. “Don’t think about it” is what I’ve been saying. Of course, not thinking about it is difficult.
Waiting is not fun. If I fail, at least I know what to deal with. If I pass, I know what to prepare for. But this unknown…

Which led me to ask all throughout last month, “Why do I want this?” I know I’m called. There’s no doubt about it. But why jump through all these hoops, frustrating myself and being frustrated with the system during the process?
This question may even be asked during the interview process (if I get that far).
I don’t have  a clear answer.
But after much thought, I know what the reasons aren’t.

I’m not going through this for the sake of the title “reverend” and a piece of paper (do we get a certificate?) that states that I have been ordained.
I’m not going through with this for a higher minimum salary.
I’m not going through this ordeal to prove something. I have nothing to prove.
I’m not going through all this to appease my pastor dad or my family.
I’m not going through this for the approval of anyone.
I’m not going through this because I’ve come so far, and it’s too late to turn back.

As I struggle with the need/idea/notion of a professional clergy, I have some vague answers in my heart of why I am going through all this.
To learn. To learn all that I can from the ones that have gone before me and the ones who think differently than me.
I’m going through all these hoops, because it feels like the natural flow of where God is leading me. So many times, I’ve gone against the flow of God, making things difficult on me. This just seems part of the journey God has me on.
I’m in this process, not because I think I can make a difference for the UMC, but because this process has humbled me and shaped me so that I can be in better tune with God, and be in better shape to serve God.

January 10 is about 5-6 weeks away.
There will be things that will keep me distracted so that I don’t dwell on what I could’ve said or shouldn’t have said on my papers.
In the mean time, there’s no point of missing out on the this great season of Advent!

Tomorrow will come with its own troubles and worries. No need to be consumed by what the readers/graders will say about my papers. By doing so, I’ll miss out on so many blessings that surround my life at this point. And as I finish this up, U2 is blaring in my ears singing “It’s a beautiful day.” And it really is.

So here I am. Officially waiting. But officially not thinking about it anymore. (Well… at least, not trying to…)