I'm back! (the 4 R's of service)
The procrastination had lasted long enough. There was only so much that one could reflect on before it became a lame excuse for sloth. However, as lame as it may sound, the procrastination did do me some good as the last few months have been akin to a life-changing, paradigm-shifting experience for me as I reflected on what vocation, work and ministry meant to me.
“The romance of service” – this is how I would term my view of the traditional understanding of full-time ministry. After all, was it not conventionally taught over the pulpit that the highest form of worship and service one could give as a child of God was to enter into full-time ministry, as a preacher, pastor or missionary? Did we not call Charles Spurgeon the “prince of preachers”? I had not heard of any ‘prince of businessmen’ before.
And so when I decided to quit full-time doctoring three years ago to go into bible school, I was filled with the romance of service, where I thought I was pursuing the highest calling any Christian could make. It really didn’t help that this notion was accentuated by well-meaning Christians who patted me on the back and told me what a sacrifice I was making for the kingdom!
With two and a half days freed up from conventional work, I was filled with excitement of how I would fill them up with church ministry and activities. What’s more – I would do it for free!
“The reality of service” – romance quickly gave way to reality the longer I spent at the church office, and the more time I interacted with those I sought to emulate. Peering into pastoral faults at close range became disconcerting and discouraging; experiencing a lack of encouragement and affirmation for ‘sacrifices’ made me question the ‘rightness’ of my choice. Was I truly called to full-time ministry?
What made it even more difficult was the fact that I still retained a part-time position in the hospital which meant that I was still in contact with former medical colleagues. It became increasingly difficult and bruising to my ego to see my colleagues, and worse, my juniors promoted. It became very easy for me to start calculating the opportunity costs incurred and comparing my position in life with those of my contemporaries. Worse, I started to have a complaining attitude for what I happily chose in the first place…
“The repulsion of service” – This disappointment with my romantic view of service drove me to consider other options that began opening up. A friend approached me to helm a medical service in overseas (my mind wandered to the recoverable lost dollars as well as a chance to ‘minister’ to the locals); another offer came to teach students (my mind wandered to the prestige of an academic career as well as a chance to ‘minister’ to the students).
I seemed to be able to justify a move back where I came from, where I didn’t have to count the cost so much. After all, I would still be an influence – and this soothed the guilt.
Little did I realise that romance had died under the weight of reality, leading to an ungodly and self-seeking attitude.
“Father, let me be weak that I might loose my clutch on everything temporal. My life, my reputation, my possessions, Lord, let me loose the tension of the grasping hand.” –Jim Elliot
“The reverence of service” – It took a while navigating through the first three stages, and occasionally I still detour into those side alleys again, before steering my way back. It took this course, as well as the gracious pursuit by God, to bring me to where I currently am now.
I remember one night in late December in 2007, right after a particularly trying period of time during which I felt misunderstood, under-appreciated and persecuted. I had just attended Wednesday chapel at BGST that week, where I was particularly struck by the speaker who spoke on the Jesus’ question “what would you like me to do for you?” It was a eureka moment for me as up til then I had not thought about that question. Most of my life had been “Lord, what can I do for you?”
It was a turning point when I told the Lord what I wanted Him to do for me in 2008. I remember telling Him with all my heart that I wanted to see the world, the greater work that He was doing, rather than remain in my own little courtyard. I wanted to be exposed to other works that He was doing in the family. I wanted to meet people who would inspire me.
I had no idea that He was really going to take me at my word…
The Bishop
A long cherished dream of meeting the Bishop materialised one day when I was chatting with a medical colleague, when out of the blue he offered to arrange a session for me to talk to him.
It was a surreal experience sitting in this elder church statesman’s office, asking him what it was like to give up his medical practice to pursue an ecclesiastical calling, and if he ever felt like it was a waste. “Nothing is a waste, but God is able to use what skills you had through your previous training in your current vocation” was a summary of what he said. “For all you know, the Lord might bring you back one full circle at the end of the day” was the comment he made as I shared about the different opportunities that were showing up.
Beyond the advice that this saintly man gave to me, I caught something much more significant – it was a sense of tranquility and contemplation in the man. How did one with so many responsibilities for a major denomination remain sane and focussed in his service? I concluded it must be an inner life of deep contemplation, from which exuded an assurance of knowing one’s station in life.
The Priest
The priest was a paradox of sorts, challenging and over-turning many of my preconceived notions of a full-time minister. To begin with, he stayed in a million-dollar condominium shared with his businesswoman wife and two daughters. Next, he exhibited an ability to appreciate the finer things in life – showing me the different plants that he painstakingly cared for and pruned every Monday (his Sabbath day), inviting me and the other guests to partake of the champagne before the simple evening meal of pizza. With my mind reeling (not from the alcohol), I asked myself if I had mistakenly equated full-time ministry with poverty, or more accurately, if I had equated spirituality with an ascetic lifestyle. I realised I had almost equated service to God with a renouncement of who I was. It was as if in seeking to serve God, I would say as Barth did,
“There is no suggestion that any sense of self-fulfilment or self-realization can legitimately enter into the discussion.” Was this why I was feeling a sense of tension?
“The kind of work God usually calls you to is the kind of work that you most need to do and the world most needs to have done … Thus, the place God calls you is the place your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.” – Frederick Buechner
The place of your deep gladness – this must certainly be where I sense I am fully using my gifts and talents for the kingdom. Should I not agree more with Balthasar, than with Barth, who said “what most fully awakens a sense of the self as a person before God is participation in the mission of Christ, which has its goal in the realization of the kingdom of God”?
The Priest mentioned four callings or vocations which one could take. While I am sure they were not exhaustive, I felt they were quite representative. The academic vocation, the missionary vocation, the pastoral vocation and the marketplace vocation. His short musing brought to mind what the Bishop said – would I indeed be able to put my talents, education and passion into good use; all combined into a special concoction like none other? Would I be able to move from one vocation to another in different seasons of life, or would I be able to exist in a gift-mix or a ‘voca-mix’ like an academic-pastoral vocation, missionary-pastoral vocation, academic-marketplace vocation? Certainly the creativity of God allows for that!
I was greatly humbled and chastised by Eugene Peterson's words, reminding me that
“The Christian life consists in what God does for us, not what we do for God; the Christian life consists in what God says to us, not what we say about God. We also, of course, do things and say things, but if we do not return to Square One each time we act, each time we speak, beginning from God and God’s Word, we will soon be found to be practicing a spirituality that has little or nothing to do with God.”
I realised my starting point was off the mark. Rather than being romanced by service, I ought to have been romanced by the One whom I sought to serve; rather than being shocked by the reality of service, I ought to have been captured by the Reality of the One whom I sought to serve; rather than being repulsed by service, I ought to have been repulsed by the thought of not being able to serve Him. The reverence of service can only come about through a deep reverence for the One whom I sought to serve.
And so I end this brief reflection of my journey thus far. I cannot tell where the road will lead in the near future, but I can be sure who leads the way. And while I am on this road, I echo the prayer of Jim Elliot, who said,
"Father, make of me a crisis man. Bring those I contact to decision. Let me not be a milepost on a single road: make me a fork, that men must turn one way or another on facing Christ in me."
Amen.
“The romance of service” – this is how I would term my view of the traditional understanding of full-time ministry. After all, was it not conventionally taught over the pulpit that the highest form of worship and service one could give as a child of God was to enter into full-time ministry, as a preacher, pastor or missionary? Did we not call Charles Spurgeon the “prince of preachers”? I had not heard of any ‘prince of businessmen’ before.
And so when I decided to quit full-time doctoring three years ago to go into bible school, I was filled with the romance of service, where I thought I was pursuing the highest calling any Christian could make. It really didn’t help that this notion was accentuated by well-meaning Christians who patted me on the back and told me what a sacrifice I was making for the kingdom!
With two and a half days freed up from conventional work, I was filled with excitement of how I would fill them up with church ministry and activities. What’s more – I would do it for free!
“The reality of service” – romance quickly gave way to reality the longer I spent at the church office, and the more time I interacted with those I sought to emulate. Peering into pastoral faults at close range became disconcerting and discouraging; experiencing a lack of encouragement and affirmation for ‘sacrifices’ made me question the ‘rightness’ of my choice. Was I truly called to full-time ministry?
What made it even more difficult was the fact that I still retained a part-time position in the hospital which meant that I was still in contact with former medical colleagues. It became increasingly difficult and bruising to my ego to see my colleagues, and worse, my juniors promoted. It became very easy for me to start calculating the opportunity costs incurred and comparing my position in life with those of my contemporaries. Worse, I started to have a complaining attitude for what I happily chose in the first place…
“The repulsion of service” – This disappointment with my romantic view of service drove me to consider other options that began opening up. A friend approached me to helm a medical service in overseas (my mind wandered to the recoverable lost dollars as well as a chance to ‘minister’ to the locals); another offer came to teach students (my mind wandered to the prestige of an academic career as well as a chance to ‘minister’ to the students).
I seemed to be able to justify a move back where I came from, where I didn’t have to count the cost so much. After all, I would still be an influence – and this soothed the guilt.
Little did I realise that romance had died under the weight of reality, leading to an ungodly and self-seeking attitude.
“Father, let me be weak that I might loose my clutch on everything temporal. My life, my reputation, my possessions, Lord, let me loose the tension of the grasping hand.” –Jim Elliot
“The reverence of service” – It took a while navigating through the first three stages, and occasionally I still detour into those side alleys again, before steering my way back. It took this course, as well as the gracious pursuit by God, to bring me to where I currently am now.
I remember one night in late December in 2007, right after a particularly trying period of time during which I felt misunderstood, under-appreciated and persecuted. I had just attended Wednesday chapel at BGST that week, where I was particularly struck by the speaker who spoke on the Jesus’ question “what would you like me to do for you?” It was a eureka moment for me as up til then I had not thought about that question. Most of my life had been “Lord, what can I do for you?”
It was a turning point when I told the Lord what I wanted Him to do for me in 2008. I remember telling Him with all my heart that I wanted to see the world, the greater work that He was doing, rather than remain in my own little courtyard. I wanted to be exposed to other works that He was doing in the family. I wanted to meet people who would inspire me.
I had no idea that He was really going to take me at my word…
The Bishop
A long cherished dream of meeting the Bishop materialised one day when I was chatting with a medical colleague, when out of the blue he offered to arrange a session for me to talk to him.
It was a surreal experience sitting in this elder church statesman’s office, asking him what it was like to give up his medical practice to pursue an ecclesiastical calling, and if he ever felt like it was a waste. “Nothing is a waste, but God is able to use what skills you had through your previous training in your current vocation” was a summary of what he said. “For all you know, the Lord might bring you back one full circle at the end of the day” was the comment he made as I shared about the different opportunities that were showing up.
Beyond the advice that this saintly man gave to me, I caught something much more significant – it was a sense of tranquility and contemplation in the man. How did one with so many responsibilities for a major denomination remain sane and focussed in his service? I concluded it must be an inner life of deep contemplation, from which exuded an assurance of knowing one’s station in life.
The Priest
The priest was a paradox of sorts, challenging and over-turning many of my preconceived notions of a full-time minister. To begin with, he stayed in a million-dollar condominium shared with his businesswoman wife and two daughters. Next, he exhibited an ability to appreciate the finer things in life – showing me the different plants that he painstakingly cared for and pruned every Monday (his Sabbath day), inviting me and the other guests to partake of the champagne before the simple evening meal of pizza. With my mind reeling (not from the alcohol), I asked myself if I had mistakenly equated full-time ministry with poverty, or more accurately, if I had equated spirituality with an ascetic lifestyle. I realised I had almost equated service to God with a renouncement of who I was. It was as if in seeking to serve God, I would say as Barth did,
“There is no suggestion that any sense of self-fulfilment or self-realization can legitimately enter into the discussion.” Was this why I was feeling a sense of tension?
“The kind of work God usually calls you to is the kind of work that you most need to do and the world most needs to have done … Thus, the place God calls you is the place your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.” – Frederick Buechner
The place of your deep gladness – this must certainly be where I sense I am fully using my gifts and talents for the kingdom. Should I not agree more with Balthasar, than with Barth, who said “what most fully awakens a sense of the self as a person before God is participation in the mission of Christ, which has its goal in the realization of the kingdom of God”?
The Priest mentioned four callings or vocations which one could take. While I am sure they were not exhaustive, I felt they were quite representative. The academic vocation, the missionary vocation, the pastoral vocation and the marketplace vocation. His short musing brought to mind what the Bishop said – would I indeed be able to put my talents, education and passion into good use; all combined into a special concoction like none other? Would I be able to move from one vocation to another in different seasons of life, or would I be able to exist in a gift-mix or a ‘voca-mix’ like an academic-pastoral vocation, missionary-pastoral vocation, academic-marketplace vocation? Certainly the creativity of God allows for that!
I was greatly humbled and chastised by Eugene Peterson's words, reminding me that
“The Christian life consists in what God does for us, not what we do for God; the Christian life consists in what God says to us, not what we say about God. We also, of course, do things and say things, but if we do not return to Square One each time we act, each time we speak, beginning from God and God’s Word, we will soon be found to be practicing a spirituality that has little or nothing to do with God.”
I realised my starting point was off the mark. Rather than being romanced by service, I ought to have been romanced by the One whom I sought to serve; rather than being shocked by the reality of service, I ought to have been captured by the Reality of the One whom I sought to serve; rather than being repulsed by service, I ought to have been repulsed by the thought of not being able to serve Him. The reverence of service can only come about through a deep reverence for the One whom I sought to serve.
And so I end this brief reflection of my journey thus far. I cannot tell where the road will lead in the near future, but I can be sure who leads the way. And while I am on this road, I echo the prayer of Jim Elliot, who said,
"Father, make of me a crisis man. Bring those I contact to decision. Let me not be a milepost on a single road: make me a fork, that men must turn one way or another on facing Christ in me."
Amen.
