Look. I had 3 different drafts of this post, since our Cal-Pac Annual Conference.
After I finished each one, I read it then reread it. Then deleted it. I didn’t even save it as a draft, which I normally do.
I just didn’t want to weigh in with my two cents because, well, I just didn’t have anything nice to say, truthfully. Or productive. Or even worthwhile.
Just a complaint, that will make me sound like a brat.
Here’s what’s going on right now. Click here.
Bishop Talbert was the preacher for our ordination worship celebration for Annual Conference.
Now, let me get this out of the way. I agree with what Bishop Talbert preached on. I had no problem with the content of the sermon.
But, I did have a problem with the time and place he chose to preach it.
I rarely want to make things about me, at least in a celebratory way. But you know, honestly, that night was about us, as the ordination class, and what God has done and continue to do through us.
It was about the years we poured our tears, sweat, some of us blood (in forms of paper cuts, perhaps) and lives in the long and often redundant and ridiculous and utterly arduous process of ordination.
It was about how we endured, only by the grace of God.
It was, at least for me and a couple of friends, about failing but refusing to stay down. Because God refused to let us go, even though many times, I (for one) wanted wash my hands free of the process, and ultimately the United Methodist Church.
It was to be a night of celebration and achievements. A small part of it being about us, but the bigger part about what God had done, despite and in spite of the ordinands.
The second to the last thing I wanted to hear that night was a 40 (plus) minute long sermon.
Especially since I know that my parents and my mother in-law wouldn’t understand most of the sermon.
The last thing I wanted to hear that night was a intentionally and thoroughly politically charged sermon.
Bishop Talbert entitled his sermon, “Do The Right Thing.”
And had he touched on any of the many many many subjects we, as newly ordained full members of the Cal-Pac Conference, could engage in doing the right thing, I honestly would’ve been okay.
There are so many issues where clergy and the church has dropped the ball by not doing the right thing. He could’ve touched on any one of those issues: poverty, homelessness, immigration, abuse, racism… I don’t know. But I do know that, as a clergy, my doing the right thing goes beyond just the issue he spent all night talking about.
This was a graduation ceremony, in many aspects.
Tell me, who would use the forum of the commencement speech to advance his/her own political beliefs?
Would it be any different, if I were to give the commencement speech at a graduation filled with Korean and Japanese students, and spend 40 minutes about how Dokdo rightfully belongs to Korea?
Would it be wise for someone to use the platform of the commencement speech to talk about same-sex marriage?
Would it be wise for me to tell recent graduates to undermine the authority that is already established?
I did not invite my brother to fly from Hawaii to join in this celebration only to force him to sit and listen to a topic that he does not agree with; a subject that we don’t see eye to eye. Which is completely okay.
I didn’t enjoy having awkward conversations at Coco’s Restaurant with folks (even folks I never met) about my feelings and thoughts on the sermon.
I wanted to just enjoy the night and bask in what God accomplished in me–in all of us. And I strongly feel that was taken from us.
Bishop Talbert, in my humble opinion, did a fantastic job of making that night about himself, more than anything else.
Call me a brat. Call me selfish. Call me naive. Call this a self-absorbed temper tantrum. Because you’d be absolutely right.
But dammit, in the eternal words of Lesley Gore: “It’s my party, and I’ll cry if I want to.”
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.
For a little while, I wanted to title all of my blog posts starting with a “My” a la one of my favorite shows, Scrubs. But that’s neither here nor there.
This past Sunday, I announced that I will be serving St. Mark United Methodist Church in Santa Barbara, effective July 1.
It’s truly bittersweet. I have loved being part of Valencia UMC for the past two and a half years. I am really excited for what this church has visioned for the next few years. But, at the same time, I know that it’s time for me to move on.
While I still have a heart and passion for youth and youth ministry, I think I’m at a chapter in my life where I no longer want to be the “youth guy.” There are other aspects of ministry that I want to explore and experience and I think St. Mark is that place where I can further explore my call as a UMC pastor.
As saddened as we are leaving this church family, both my wife and I are 100% certain that this is God’s plan for us. So we are encouraged by our faith and hopeful that God will do great things through us in Santa Barbara.
On top of that, I am already familiar with St. Mark UMC, at least with their campus. 20 years ago, my dad started a Korean church on St. Mark’s campus. So from the age of 11-16, I was part of the youth ministry at St. Mark where this great guy named, Doug was the youth director. It is a sort of homecoming for me.
And, when we lived in Santa Barbara, my grandparents lived near Pomona, and we would frequently make that drive down to see my grandparents. My parents now live near Pomona. And, when we have kids, my kids will make that same drive down to see their grandparents.
I am excited for the move. I think I’ll get a bit more nervous and anxious as the days progress. I have no idea what’s in store for us in Santa Barbara. But I know that God will be with us with every single step that we take.
So, we’ll have to start packing soon. It’s always a weird feeling packing, especially the office. There’s this sense of sadness and a heaviness within the heart mixed with a sense of excitement and nervousness.
It’s been a blessed 2.5 years here at Valencia. And we are grateful for the lessons that we have learned and the friendships we have formed here.
I think it’s safe to say that transition is going to be a theme of many posts this upcoming month.
I’m looking forward to a great and crazy and memorable month of June.
It saddens me to see so many UM local churches that are declining and ineffective, because we don’t have to be. I’m not saying that all UM churches should be flourishing with members, growing each year, and have lots of money in the bank. Not at all. But I know that every single UM church has the power to be a transforming presence within their neighborhood and community. I strongly believe in our message and theology. And I strongly believe our capacity to bring transformation into our community and the ability to make healthy and effective disciples of Christ.
In case you’re wondering, this has nothing to do with any outcome of the General Conference 2012. I tried to get excited for it, but I couldn’t. I even tried following along with the live feeds. But when people were presenting amendments to the amendments, I couldn’t endure it. I’m waiting for someone to post cliff notes of all things General Conference 2012 soon.
But from local churches to the General Conference, I feel like many of us are sitting around and talking until we see eye to eye on everything before we do anything (from John Perkins). That’s never going to result to anything. There’s not a single community (secular or religious) that exists where everyone sees eye to eye on everything
I think what bothers me the most, from my limited view and experience, is that many of our struggling local churches make the mistake of trying to be without doing (also from John Perkins). We put all the energy and breath into what we think we should be. But when it comes to doing something about it, well, it never happens. A lot of times, a subcommittee is created to do more talking about the ideal being. Then disagreements happen. Someone hijacks the committee’s vision and brings his or her own agenda. Sometimes another task force needs be created to deal with the disagreements. We have amendments to the amendments and a task force or a sub committee for every new amendment and eventually, everyone’s confused and/or there’s too much to clarify and organize. Either way, the end result is that nothing really happens.
And because of all this talking about how we should be, we’ve slowly lost track of what year it really is and the reality of the culture and community we are surrounded by. The culture is decades ahead of our church, so much so, that walking into some of our local churches is like experiencing time traveling. And it frustrates me to no end that churches do not use media technology, especially in SoCal, arguably the mecca of media technology. I mean, Hollywood is our backyard. (A quick side note, projecting the lyrics to the hymn on a screen helps everyone. First, people look up and can see everyone else’s face. Second, it’s easier for many to read (the bigger) words projected on the screen than strain to look at the small type in the hymnal. Third, it never hurts to incorporate media like pictures, video clips to enhance your sermon, once in a while.)
Every year in our ordination exams in the Cal-Pac Annual Conference, this question is asked: You are seeking to join an annual conference that has experienced more than three decades of decline and has scores of struggling churches? How will you address this reality in your ministry as a Deacon or Elder?
I answered that I don’t know if there’s anything I can do to change anything within the Annual Conference. Simply, it’s big and vast and too much to think about bringing any chance to the Annual Conference. I told them that my goal is to do the best that I can by and through God’s grace for the local church and the community that I am appointed to.
They pushed back asking about our connectionalism and that we’re called to serve the Annual Conference and not just our local church.
I responded with, How’s that working out for us? We’re still declining. How long are we going to wait for change to come from the top down? There are too many differing opinions and thoughts within our Annual Conference. While the diversity is beautiful and necessary, we’re going to spend so much energy and time arguing about how things should be that change doesn’t really happen. In the history of the church, it’s always been a small group of people that made drastic changes for the entire body of Christ. The 12 Disciples. The Apostles. The Desert Fathers. Martin Luther. I strongly believe that some of our local churches will start hitting a grace-filled stride that results in effectiveness, healthiness and growth and other local churches will notice. And because we tend to be a copycat church, when one UMC does something that is effective, other churches will start trying to translate the methods of the effective church into their own setting. And maybe they’ll be enough of a ripple effect that makes the entire conference notice.
I didn’t pass that year my ordination exams that year. I could tell from their response that many of them didn’t like my answer. And I’m not saying that it was a good answer or that I was right. I mean, still today, I don’t even know if I answered the question correctly.
But I still believe in what I said though, that effective change always seem to have come from the down up. To wait for the General Conference and the Annual Conference to make the necessary changes is not productive use of time, gifts and energy. By the time we get this massive ship that we call UMC to make important shifts and changes in direction, we’ll already be years too late.
I believe that our local churches have no excuse to be dying. Check that. I believe that we have no excuses of dying without putting up a fight. I say, if we’re expecting to close our doors in the next two years, let’s go out with a bang. Let’s throw a banquet and invite the poor and the sick and the migrant workers and have a taste of what heaven would be like. Let’s make our presence felt and known in our community. Let’s be like Jonathan and his young armor bearer in 1 Samuel 14 and, well, “just do it.”
Perhaps I am still too young and naive to understand how everything works. A clergy at a district gathering once said to me, “Just wait until you get to my age, and you’ll see.” What I’ll see, I have no idea. But I’m sure he was talking about how young and naive I appeared to be and how out of touch with “reality” I was. I don’t know.
But what I do know is that we can’t afford to spend too much more energy and breath talking about how we should be and how things should be. As John Perkins writes, “Being is not complete until doing.”
We need to start putting our faith into work.
All of our local churches has the potential to bear fruit.
All of God’s churches has potential to make some sort of difference in our community.
We just need to stop talking about it and start putting our money where our mouth is.
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…?
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…
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
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…)
being invitational doesn’t end with the sermon series. we need to be invitational every day of our lives
Evangelizing doesn’t have to be this awful thing we often perceive it to be. it can be done in a loving and caring way. we don’t have to use signs or bullhorns or tracts or be aggressive or forceful or intrude, etc. don’t let the stereotypes prevent us from sharing the Good News
the BLOCK PARTY was amazing. thank you for all the people who got this party up and running and all the people who attended and invited friends to come
we served about 700 hot dogs to our friends, neighbors and family. wow. that’s a lot of hot dogs.
great games, great music by all our musicians, great fellowship. it was just a great way to let the community know that we are here and that we’re not that weird.
I’m not 15 anymore. Hurt my butt going down the water slide. Learned my lesson.
I believe it was Craig Groeschel who wrote in a blog post that the United Methodist Church might have been better off spending the 20 million or so on planting new churches rather than this ReThink church ad campaign.
I, for one, have stated that I was never a big fan of this whole ReThink church campaign. Don’t get me wrong. I love the whole concept and idea and the whole “what if Church was a verb?”
I guess for me, I just couldn’t reconcile the 20 million dollars spent on the whole advertisement that, at least from my experience, no one outside of the UM circle has heard about. And maybe that’s just in my small, closed, bubble of a world.
But I did like what Groeschel said. That money might have been better off in trying to plant churches that will do church differently rather than having existing churches change their way of ‘doing’ (being) church.
I still believe that rather than spending 20 million dollars on the advertising campaign, that 20 million dollars might’ve been better invested in getting already existing pastors trained to rethink church.
I ran across a story about Starbucks in 2008. About 7000 Starbucks closed their doors for 3 hours and during those 3 hours about 175,000 employees were RETRAINED in making coffee. Sort of like ReTHINK BARISTA!
Why?
Because Howard Schultz (head honcho) saw that the Baristas were losing their edge in coffee making. The quality experience of Starbucks was declining because the Baristas attention were no longer on coffee alone. Their attention was also divided by music selections and emergence of food items. So Schultz felt that they needed to retrain the baristas so that their coffee making abilities were back on the excellence level.
Schultz also decided to cutdown on variety of pastry/food/sandwiches Starbucks made because the smell of food was competing with the smell of coffee.
Schultz saw the necessity (over the risk) of closing 7000 Starbucks for three hours. The benefits outweighed the costs.
He did what he felt was necessary for Starbucks to start making great coffee again.
After reading this story, something like this, I feel, would benefit the United Methodist Church greatly.
Of course, I have no idea how to implement such a thing.
Perhaps investing money and time to retrain/refresh/renew/reenergize/re-whatever ALL UMC clergy and help us to rethink church would only benefit our Body all the more and make us more effective (or as Perry Noble wrote, make us a difference maker rather than just a paycheck taker.)
