Tag Archives: United Methodist Church

Be Patient. God Knows What God’s Doing.

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Santa Barbara, looking east from above Santa B...

Some time in 2012, I knew that my time at my former church was coming to a close. I was sure of it, because my DS (District Superintendent) had told me so. I wasn’t in any trouble (that I know of) but, outside of what she had informed me, I also knew in my heart that a time of transition was coming. To where? I had no idea. The DS told me that she couldn’t say anything but to be in prayer and know that there is a plan.

So, I remained in prayer and tried to form my own plan, naturally.
I had it in me that I wanted to return to the Korean church. I had been (am still) so critical of the Korean church. It was time to shut up and put my money where my mouth is. I couldn’t help but think of the parable of the Prodigal Son, where I was playing the part of the son returning home — the Korean church. But instead of the father running towards with open arms ready to embrace and kiss me, I envisioned running towards, as Jesus put it, weeping and gnashing of teeth. I kid. Well, sort of. And yes, I realize how egotistical it was of me to think that way.

And then — a position at a Korean church opened. I thought that this was more than a coincidence. Intern Dae once asked, “Do you think you could ever go back to a Korean church?” At that time, I answered, “If I ever were to go back to the Korean church, I’d like it to be at [the Korean church mentioned at the beginning of this paragraph]. It’s never going to happen, though. I don’t think that pastor’s leaving any time soon.”

So, I figured this was God’s way of telling me that I may have to, for lack of a better
cliche´, put my money where my mouth is.

So I contacted the pastor. He wanted to meet. I drove out to meet him. We talked. I got excited. He got excited — except that the position I wanted was being filled, but they were looking for a college pastor and would I be interested. I always wanted to try college ministry, so I said yes. Then he told me to come to the church and meet with the SPRC.
So my wife and I drove to the church to see what the church was like. Secretly, I went there ready to say ‘yes.’ I figured, this was what God wanted me to do. All the door seemingly just opened.

Only, after the meeting and the tour of the church, something in my heart nagged at me saying, “What are you doing?”
That inner dialogue was echoed by my wife, “I don’t think this would be a good place for us.”
But something within me really wanted this to happen. I really thought this place would be the next chapter in my life. However, there was enough hesitation and resistance (something I didn’t expect) within me to realize that I needed to figure out what was going on and pray on it.

After much prayer, and many conversations with trusted friends and family, it was what my wife said. She wondered if I was trying to force my way into this church, for whatever reasons because it was me that initiated everything from day 1. I was letting the DS know what was going on, instead of waiting for the Cabinet. And I realized, perhaps, this was a good time to not be so proactive, but a good time to wait. To pray. And to trust.

So, I told the pastor of the Korean church that I couldn’t go.
I told the DS that I would pray for the Cabinet and be patient as I possibly could, sort of apologizing for hijacking the whole process.

After what felt like years, I was told that an introductory meeting was set up for me in Santa Barbara.
My initial reaction?
“Oh. Santa Barbara? Okay… Well. Yea. Thanks.”
I wasn’t too thrilled. I was paying attention to the possible appointments, and I secretly hoped that Santa Barbara wasn’t one of the places. Why? Because we lived there when I was in jr. high to early high school. I just wasn’t excited.
But, I wasn’t going to refuse this introduction meeting.

So my wife and I drove north to Santa Barbara. I was a bit apprehensive and went to the meeting expecting the worst. I just didn’t think I’d be a good fit for the church and for Santa Barbara.

But. As soon as I sat down. There was a strange warming in my heart. I wish I was making that up. I’m not saying that to be a good Methodist. There really was a strange warming within my heart. And everything felt …. right. 

After the meeting, the wife and I drove to State street to have dinner. We talked about the meeting and she asked, “What did you think?”
I told her that I think that this was it.
I also shared with her, had I felt any inkling of what I feel now for the Korean church, I would’ve jumped at the chance. But, I knew that I had dodged a bullet going to that Korean church. I’m not saying that the Korean church was a bad church or whatever. But, I knew that I would’ve made a huge mistake if I had gone to that church. Consider that my Tarsus, if you will.
I honestly think, the outcome would have been that both the church and I go our separate ways, both damaged, hurt and scarred.

Of course, that Korean church brought in great people for their ministry, which I think is a great fit for them.
And God brought me to Santa Barbara.
I am 100% certain of that. And, honestly, I’m glad that I’m 100% certain of that, because it’s that knowledge and faith that will pull me through when we encounter uncertainty in the process of ministry. And, I know that this is a great fit for both church and myself.

I have no idea what God intends to do with me and St. Mark UMC. But, I know that it’s going to be something great and amazing. And, there’s no other option, because God is involved — especially if we continue to have God lead us, instead of us dictating God.

There are so many times in my life where I just want things to happen on my time, in my way. More often than not, I want to say, “God, this is what I’m going to do. Please bless it.” And move on forward.

But I need to continually remind myself that God knows what he’s doing.
And, more importantly, that I’m not God.

While there are times where I need to be active in my faith and not just sit around and wait for things to happen, there are times where I need to be patient, wait, discern and pray that God’s will be mine, not the other way around.

I think it’s more than fair to say, life is a bit more manageable and makes a little bit more sense when we live out God’s will for us.

 

No Creative Title Here, But It’s About the Night That I Got Ordained and the Sermon That Was Preached. Sort of.

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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.”

… or something along that line.

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.

Being Without Doing

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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.

 

 

 

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Tattoos on the Heart: Review

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(note: this was written for the Baltimore-Washington Annual Conference’s young adult resource magazine Shift)

So there I was, hanging out at the gift shop of Homegirl Cafe, when a heavily inked man, twice my size comes up to me with the warmest smile, holding a copy of Tattoos on the Heart.

“Bro, you should buy this,” he says through an infectious smile.

“I already have a copy.” I replied, sheepishly.

“You read it, yet?”

“Not yet. But it’s sitting on my stack of books to read.”

“You gotta read this. Now.”

“No, yea. I’ll read it real soon.”

“You should. It’s real good. Promise.”

If it was not for his gentle nudging and the urging of my wife (who works with the California prisons through her non-profit organization, The Center for Restorative Justice Works), the book would probably still be somewhere in the tower of books to read.

Gregory Boyle, or “G” as the homies call him, shares stories of the people in his life about their struggles, failures, triumphs, and redemption. He tells his stories straight forward with language that may be NSFC-E (never safe for church–ever)

In one story, G shares about La Shady, a female gang member. Her man and baby’s father was killed in a fight with a rival gang. G was on his way to set up a peace treaty between female members of her gang and the gang that killed her man when she comes up to his car, holding her baby daughter in her arms and telling him about a dream she had. In her dream, she is in G’s church and sees him standing next to a tiny baby’s coffin. G is beckoning her to come closer so she wearily approaches the coffin. She finally reaches the casket and before she can get a full view of the casket, a dove flies out of the casket, circles the insides of the church and finally finds its resting spot on Shady’s shoulder. Then she wakes up.

“What’s it mean, G?” She asks.

“Well, everyone knows that the white dove stands for peace. And so God is asking you to move toward forgiveness and healing and peace. And everything’s going to be fine,” G explained, taking advantage of this moment. “But here’s the only thing that matters, kiddo. How did the dream make you feel?”

She began to cry and explained that at first, she was scared because she thought the casket might be her daughter’s. But once she saw the dove, “I only felt peace and love in my heart.”

“God only wants you to feel those things, mijita– love in your heart… peace. You’re okay.”

Perhaps this conversation would be a turning point for Shady where she realizes a real possibility of forgiveness within her, a possibility of peace and grace, and more importantly a possibility of a real future for her and her daughter. We never know because the midnight following that conversation:

Shady is crammed into the middle seat in the back of a car filled with gang members. They’ve driven well out of her barrio, and the guys in the car are from a neighborhood not her own. They drive, and hand signs get thrown out the window at rivals standing on some street corner. The corner guys yell and scream all manner of foulness at the car, and Shady and the gang squealrubber out of there, laughing. Not a block away, a corner vato finds his gun. Shady slumps in the backseat. Only one bullet entered the car that night, and it happened to find the back of Shady’shead.

This story stuck out for me. Perhaps because the reader will never know how Shady’s journey would have played out. Or perhaps because Jennifer, Shady’s daughter, is now without her mom and dad. The story is evidence of how dangerous and short the gangster life can be. It is possible Jennifer may end up being a gang member like her parents. No one may be around to show her a different way of living; no one may be around to invest in her, to show her the image of God that she was created in, because there are more people who are afraid and prefer to keep a good distance from everyone involved in this lifestyle than there are people like G, who lives in the very community he wants to transform with the message of the Gospel.

The book is filled with compelling stories that draw out various emotions. G’s experiences show that these people are just that, people; people who have emotions, hopes, and dreams. He illuminates the humanity of people many may have discarded as “animals.”

There is a story about Chico and how the emotions of burying Chico, G’s eighth person in three weeks, was finally getting to him. He is crying underneath a tree near the burial site when the mortician unknowingly intrudes on his sacred moment. To break the silence, G whispers to his intruder, “Now that was a terrific kid.”

And, “In a voice so loud and obnoxious that it turns the heads of all the gathered mourners, [the mortician] says, ‘HE WAS?’”

Many of us may find ourselves in the shoes of the mortician. How can someone “good” live a gang banging life? But Christ did. He sees the heart of the people. He did not see prostitutes, degenerates, tax collectors, sinners, lepers– no, he saw children of God and had compassion on the people he was walking with, even those who would later crucify him.

As Christ followers, we are called to show the kind of boundless compassion G describes as, “A compassion that can stand in awe at what the poor have to carry rather than stand in judgment at how they carry it.”

Discussion Questions:

How do you define/view “compassion?” How does your definition of “compassion” compare to the compassion that Jesus embodied?

The Dolores Mission Church, the parish that G serves, is a part of the community. The neighborhood knows that G is the priest. G, his parish and Homeboy Industries are working hard to transform their neighborhood and the lives that live within it. The people of that community know who G is and know where they can run to in time of need. What is the relationship between your neighborhood and your church? What are the ways that your church is engaged in transforming the community with the irresistible and powerful message of God’s love? If your church were to close its doors, what affect, if any, would it have in your community?

Challenging the Youth

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A while back, I attended a youth event/retreat/conference.
Before I continue, I feel like I have to (always) give a little disclaimer. I know that what I write  often comes off as attacking/negative/critical. I try not to be both in my life outside of this blog and on this blog. But there are things that rile me up, agitate me, annoy me, etc. and I’m glad I have this venue to sort of share why. So I apologize if I’m come off as negative and judgmental. Feel free to call me out on it.

So, we’re at worship. The speaker comes on and starts giving a message about Jesus feeding the 5000.
He invited two kids to volunteer and come up to the stage. When two kids were decided upon, he handed them each one of those long french breads. And he said, “Jesus used two loaves of bread.” He then instructed the two kids to wail on each other with the french bread loaf until one of them breaks. Hilarity ensued as the two kids were beating each other.
Then, he said, “And Jesus used pieces of fish.” He then asked two different kids to volunteer and step up to the stage. He handed the two chosen ones a can of sardines each and had them see who can eat the sardines the fastest.

He then continued saying:
So Jesus fed people with bread and fish. When you leave this place, I want you to remember the awesome bread fight that we just witnessed. And then I want you to remember the funny and gross sardine eating contest. Years from now, when you look back to this event, I want you to remember how it made us laugh. I want you to remember how fun it was. And then you’ll remember Jesus feeding people. This is the time when we usually pray to end worship. But I’m not going to pray for you, because every action we do is a prayer. Everything we did tonight was a prayer. I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Good night.

I walked away… annoyed. About nothing in particular and about everything. To this day, I don’t have a specific reason of why I was (am) so annoyed. I’m sure that he reached a lot of those young kids. I’m sure that kids had a great experience and are looking forward to the event later this year.

Maybe it’s because of my background. My experiences with retreats have always been, for a lack of a better word, intense.

Or maybe it’s because I felt like we were trying to have these kids’ faith experience solely relying on experience and emotions (remember how you felt…).

Or maybe it was because of the absolute lack of explanation of a wonderful and teachable story of Jesus feeding people.

Or maybe it’s simply because I’m a hater.

Or, all of the above.

But. I think we parents and adults would flip out if that’s how kids were taught in school.
What if the teachers said, “Remember how exciting multiplication is? Remember how you felt about this problem when you look back on today during test time. I’ll see you tomorrow in class.”

Mostly, I think my beef with whole situation is, how we shy away from challenging the youth of our church. Hell, how we as pastors shy away from challenging anyone, for that matter.

I know school is intense. I know kids are overloaded with information and hormones. I know kids desperately need rest. I know kids need time to be kids.
But here’s what gets me. Over the years, both my colleagues and myself have heard things like this when it comes to church and youth:
“These kids need room to play and be kids.”
“No, no Bible study. Ever. They’re so overworked the last thing they want to do at church is open another book.”
“We just want them to come to church and not be bored.”

I totally, totally get that. At the same time, I know that Bible study and nothing but Bible study doesn’t really work either. Youth need games. Laughter. Fun. And so do the youth leaders.

But, are we to build a youth ministry based solely on games, laughter and fun?
You have all these secular institutions challenging kids to make a difference, challenges that kids have responded to.

There’s something out there called The Do Something Awards, where youth are challenged to do something that changes their world. And these kids that end up on TV, they did some amazing, amazing things. (And yea, maybe money is a motivating factor).
There are other places out there that challenge kids to make a difference in their communities. Schools have kids serve in various ways (often times through mandatory community service hours for graduation/club).
But these non-faith organizations are pushing kids to be active in loving their neighbor and the world.

Yet, when they come to church (where faith leads to action… where we’ll called to love our neighbors), we want them to do nothing but laugh, play games, and have fun. Oh, but once a year, we go do a mission project.

Aren’t we doing young people of the church a disservice by not challenging/pushing them to be and do more?

I’ve had someone share with me that a parent once came to her and said, “Yea, yea Bible study, is all that necessary? You should do more of those crazy, wild games! My kids want way more of that and much less of the all the other church stuff. They got Sunday mornings for that.”

What are we to do with that? I would’ve had to bite my tongue so hard that it would bleed to not say something snarky back.

Do churches see the role of the youth pastor as a court jester? Sure, the church would never say that… but what about through their actions and expectations?
Do they see us as someone who dances on command and makes everyone laugh?
To be honest, some youth pastors love to take that role and nothing more.

Oh… but we’re called to be so much more than entertainers…

I see how the youth all over the country and world rise up to challenges.
All throughout scripture, there are stories of how young people responded to God’s Words.

The youth of the United Methodist Church can set the whole denomination on fire.
But I believe that their potential is related to how they’re being challenged by the church.
If they come to church solely to be entertained, you may have the funnest and funniest youth kids in the world… and nothing more.

United Methodist Churches, please do not be afraid to challenge your youth to go deeper in their faith. Don’t stop doing crazy, whacky, “youth” things, because they are essential in youth ministry. But our youth were created for a bigger purpose than to be entertained. They can do so much more… they deserve so much more.

But we as a church may never see the potential and the power of what the youth can do/accomplish/change in God’s grace and name, if we never gently, gracefully and lovingly challenge/push/nudge them to do/be more.

Cheekswab.org

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I met this young man during my first official church job.
He was a senior in high school. I was a green, first year seminary student working at Korean United Methodist Church of Greater Washington (KUMCGW) as a jr. high pastor. Needless to say, I was overwhelmed with being on a staff of a church.

I never got to know Dan that well and never really had that many conversations with him when we were both at KUMCGW.
But over the years, I’ve “stalked” him online and reading his words, thoughts and his story through his blog.

His words, as a young Korean-American, has hit home many times. Whether he knows it or not, he often expresses the sentiment that I see in young people of faith that I’ve run into on the other side of the country.
His frustrations with church has been eye (and heart) opening for me. I wish I had gotten to know him better when we both physically in NOVA. But I’ve been getting to know him more  through his blog.

I hope that you can take a little time to stop by and read his story on his website and organization that went live this past week at www.cheekswab.org.

His story is inspirational, and I know that God is using him to change and save many people’s lives.

Sometimes, I sit back and wish I can do something to change the world or make the world a better place. While I still dream and vision, Dan has gone and done something. I hope to follow his lead.

Please take a minute and read his story and check out his site and see how you can help carry this young man’s story and dream into your own world.

www.cheekswab.org

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.

Things That Happen at Starbucks

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All apologies to my former churches, current church and future churches.

The Starbucks store at 1912 Pike Place. This i...

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I just can’t think at an office setting.
I don’t know why. I try. But I sit there and… instead of focusing on what I need to, I focus on other unnecessary stuff. For some reason, I’m a better steward of my, church’s and God’s time when I’m NOT in the office. I’m less distracted. I know this often doesn’t bode well at times. In one of my former settings, the pastor and I constantly butted heads over this issue. Mainly because I couldn’t agree with the REASON why he wanted me to be in the office. I’m sure I would’ve relented more if he worded it differently or gave an all different reason. His reason was to show good face for the church folks who stopped by. Which rarely happened, because that church modeled the visitation ministry. We went to parishioners homes and places of business to interact with them.

Parishioners came to the church, most of the time, when there was “official” church business, which I meant that I was already at church.

And I was at the point of my life, where everything about how “showy” Koreans were bothered me. I didn’t want to “show off” the youth to the congregation to show how well we were doing. I wasn’t called to that church to show or save face, but to engage people through the God’s grace. So when he said, “I want you to be in the office so that we can show the church how hard working you are.”
I pushed back.
And yes, looking back, I do regret how rebellious I may have been. And I probably would have handled it differently today, maybe even barter or what not.

Anyway, sorry for the digression.
Years ago, I made a goal to make one contact with someone outside of the church a day. Some days, I was on a roll. Other days, didn’t speak to a soul.

About a month ago, I was sitting at my regular Starbucks (I now know the regulars and most of the staff) when a woman asked me if that was a Bible I was reading.
So we talked a little. She told me about the church she attends in our valley. I shared with her what church I worked at, which was near her workplace.
She wanted to know what I was reading, for what reason, what I was reading the particular chapter for. And that was pretty much that.

Today, I was waiting for the barista to finish making my drink, and I see a walking fast towards me, waving her hand.
“Do you remember me?”
It took me a second, but she was the lady from the paragraph above.
“Yes! You work at the (place near our church).”
“Yes! Here, I have this prayer request for you.”
She handed me a piece of post-it paper with her daughter’s name on it.
She began to share with me the frustrations and pain she feels for her daughter who is in a situation no woman should be in.
She said she would feel better knowing that I would be keeping her daughter in my prayers.

I thanked her for sharing something like that with me, especially when she barely knows me. I gave her my business card and asked her to keep me updated and let me know if there’s anything else I may be able to help with. She just wanted my prayers.

I don’t think this lady will ever attend our church. I’m sure she is happy at her Baptist church, and if we actually discussed theology, she might find our thoughts miles apart. But that’s not what is important here. I’m glad she has a faith home and I’m sure she asked her pastor or her church family for prayers also.

It’s one of the those small moments that affirms my belief that as a United Methodist pastor, I’m not appointed to serve just the people within our church campus/property/walls, but to the community of Santa Clarita Valley.

I sat here looking over my ordination papers.
I wrote that I often pray to God to make me an extrovert for just 8 hours each day, because I’m such an introvert.
I sat here and thought about all the people I’ve talked to at the Starbucks here in Granary Square.
And I see how God answers that silly little prayer of mine.

In a time where I feel pretty down on myself because of my ordination papers and the fear that comes along with the possibility of failure, today’s unexpected God moment served as a small, but firm, affirmation of my calling.

Thanks be to God.