real talk#4 -being a woman in ministry

over the past few months, i have been particularly struck by the ways i’ve been subtly and not so subtly formed in the church…. no, i’m not talking about spiritually but a formation of how i’ve performed and continue to perform into a kind of gendered role of both assertion and passivity.

all growing up and even well into my ministry career, the culture within many of the churches i’ve been a part of have predominantly been under some sort of strong alpha male presence and leadership. and when i say “alpha,” i mean it in such a way that is not meant to be judgmental but rather, an indication of a larger cultural reality -a reality that suggests or even demands a particular way of being for what it means to be masculine, which inevitably requires a counter balance of femininity…in other words, dominant and submissive ways of relating. and we all know that it is usually the “masculine” or “dominant” trait that pushes ahead when it comes to our understandings of success and influence. we see this operating not only in the business world and in politics, but also in the church.

for me, entering into vocational ministry at the age of 21, as a female/asian worship leader in the mid to late 90′s, i must admit, it was a battle of sorts -not so much to have the opportunity to do what i do but to be heard. all kinds of folks will hire and use your gifts for their benefit but what does it mean to be heard? to be respected? this is the gap that i have sensed for the past 13 years until perhaps just recently.

i have the wonderful privilege of serving as one of the pastors on staff here at quest church in seattle. from what i’ve gathered, a lot of people here in seattle don’t seem to want to abide by the typically set norm for the most part compared to other places i’ve lived – bikes ride the street like it’s theirs, indie artists and local bands are celebrated more so than what tends to be “popular” in the larger culture, local food and coffee shops are heralded over and against your usual chain restaurants and coffee joints, and so on. i know, i know, these are gross generalizations but coming from living 10 years in the south, these differences are quite stark to me. which makes me wonder if this way of imagining and negotiating the culture we’re so influenced by rubs off on the way we imagine ourselves and our participation within it?

all this to say, since i’ve moved to seattle just over a year ago, anytime i’ve had to teach, speak, preach in a ministry setting, i’ve begun to notice that a certain kind of persona arises out of me. i don’t really want to say that i feel “masculine” per se, but my demeanor definitely rings with a kind of assertive/authoritative confidence that suggests you better not mess with me! well, maybe it is an alpha rising out of me! i know, crazy right? there’s actually a running joke with some of my friends here that tell me i have a definite and particular booming “prayer voice” …..prayer voice?? i didn’t even realize there was such a thing! i think and believe that a lot of it has to do with the ways i’ve been formed. formation in this sense, arising out of a lack -lack of women leaders in the church as role models, lack of trust for women in ministry, lack of faith that women actually have something to contribute in addition to meeting the gender balance requirement on any given staff, lack of respect that because we’re women, we’re only concerned with and gifted for children’s ministry and fluffy women’s ministry tea gatherings. in this way, in order to counter such ill-formed images and perceptions of women in ministry, i’ve had to assert myself much more to have a place at the proverbial table so to speak -to be heard, to be respected for more than my looks and my “sensitive/motherly” gifts.

it’s formation that has arisen out of a need to be like one of the boys.

strangely, a lot of the men around me here, in my particular circles of relationships and ministry, are by no means the kind of image of the machismo-grunting-flexing-jocky males that i’m used to in ministry. it’s weird….but refreshing in such a good way! i’m just finding myself feeling, at times, out of place. i feel like i’m too assertive and perhaps a bit overwhelming to some. i find myself constantly conscious and aware of how i speak in certain contexts but when i pray and preach, i just can’t seem to pull it back! formation takes time. it’s taken me 14 years of being this way and, dare i say, performing in a particular way that has translated into who i am now in ministry.

it’s been a learning process, more about myself than anything else, i guess.

my prayer for ministry now is not so much how well or competently i perform tasks given me but rather, a lifelong promise to myself and the many young women whom i will encounter for years to come. a promise of hope that prayerfully, through the witness of my life, many young women will see and know that they too have something significant to offer this world.

multi-ethnic worship: YOUR thoughts

so, i’ve been asked to write an article due out in july on the top 3 issues that worship leaders of multi-ethnic worship face on a macro and micro level. as i have my thoughts pretty set on this topic, primarily from years of experience in both homogenous congregations and in communities who are faithfully trying to live into racial reconciliation, i think it would be nice to hear from YOU as well.

i am no fool to think that my experiences alone or my interest/study/research on this topic makes me an authority by any means. however, i am thrilled to have the opportunity to share my thoughts on it and will post it here once the publication is out at the end of july.

in the meantime, whether you’re a pastor, worship leader, former worship leader, have an innate sense of what your worship leader is dealing with, whatever…i’d LOVE to hear your thoughts/experiences/insights on what YOUR top 3 issues for worship leaders of multi-ethnic worship are.

the greatest of these is LOVE

1 corinthians 13:1-8

if I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, i am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. if i have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if i have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, i am nothing. if i give all i possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, i gain nothing. love is patient, love is kind. it does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. it is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. it always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. love never fails.

wow! i’ve probably read this passage a million times but today, i am struck with something quite convicting inside of these words. i have heard this message about loving others preached or taught within the context of marriage, relationships, within the scope of extending the depth of our desires, realms of possibility…basically, loving those whom we can comprehend ourselves loving -friends, family, those in the margins, etc. after all, we have a foundation of love for these people, or our love toward them is centered on human compassion. we leave the message reminded that we should stop harboring resentments, petty grudges and that we should begin coming out of ourselves enough to help those less fortunate, right?

however, i was challenged when i thought about a love shown through obedience….because doing something out of obedience is often more challenging than doing it out of desire or willingness. that all so famous phrase we like to quote, “love your enemies” is strangely more than a simple charge to make ammends. though it could mean that as well, i think this kind of love calls for a real and honest engagement of who we consider our enemy. for example, what about those people who are absolutely unlovable in our minds? perhaps those who have harmed us or those who have harmed others -murderers, traffickers, the unmentionables. to love such people is unimaginable! however, should love be a respecter of persons?

as valentine’s day (our culture’s dedicated day of love) approaches, as well as the first day of lent a few days following, i think about this word: love. as christian’s, we believe that christ came and bore all things upon himself on the cross because god loved, loves and will continue to love that which god created. the reality is that love means nothing unless there is a cost involved. this is what i believe 1 corinthians 13 is trying to convey. what is profound in loving something or someone that is already lovable? god did not send his only begotten son to suffer and die for those without stains, those who were blameless and without sin. no, christ died for the wretched, those deserving of eternal separation. christ died for all -you, me, child traffickers, and the murderer on death row…. yes, christ died for ALL.

the thought of this makes me cringe, if i’m being honest. in my mind, i am SO different than my enemy. yet, to know that christ loves the same. this is a truly difficult passage to swallow. somehow though, it challenges me that my faith has to be something more than talk and to continually remember that christ died for me just as much as anyone else. may my heart toward greater love begin with confession and repentance. if i cannot love the small offenders in my life, how can i possibly extend love to those that seem tragically unlovable?

i pray that as we ponder and prepare our hearts for the lenten season, may we be continuously reminded of the infinite and immeasurable love of our god and may our lives emanate with a costly love that the world would think incomprehensible.

faith, hope, love. but the greatest of these is LOVE.

~selah~

the burning bush -a life of being and pursuing

by artist He Qi

so often in our lives when we face difficult situations or trials, we look and seek after signs of some sort -signs that tell us that someone knows us, signs that someone hears our cry and actually cares. we wait for that definitive voice from on high or a strike of lightening, etc…. kind of like an “in-your-face-can’t-deny-the-truth” moment. a burning bush moment.

in the old testament, in exodus 3, we are given a story of a man named moses and a mysterious burning bush through which god speaks and makes god’s self known to him. it is a bush that is raging with fire but never consumed, it is alluring to the one who comes upon it yet is too great to take full on, it offers words of hope but a hope that is marked with a call to action. a bush that, upon it’s presence, acknowledges that the battles we face are not ours alone but that god is and will continue to be with us.

though we say and we know that christ has come and has sent the spirit of god to each of us, to dwell within us, we find ourselves still looking around for that bush. waiting for a sign, looking and hoping in things external when god in god’s love has come to dwell within us through the holy spirit. the same spirit that ignited a bush is the same spirit that abides in us. in this way,  i like to think that our lives are like flaming bushes, which burn but are not consumed. the very god that is in us purges the death on our branches in order that we may bring forth new life. as we are continually made new, we manifest and speak forth a light and a hope to those who encounter us. and in such lives of givenness, we are not found depleted but renewed.

the burning bush is a call to faith, a call to hear and a call to action. believe that god actually hears your cry as he heard the cries of the israelites in captivity. silence the clammering noises of fear and uncertainty and rather choose to hear the voice of hope and love as god is continually speaking to us and through us. know that a life of faith is never a life of comfort or a stagnant reality but a call to put feet to that which we claim as just and right, feet to that which we believe love is. faith is active and always in pursuit of the other. it is in our pursuit of the other that god promises to be with us as he was with moses and the people of israel. god does not call us to something just to abandon us later but calls us in order that god’s faithfulness may be witnessed more fully.

friends, i pray that we do not remain satisfied in our own well-being but the flame of the holy spirit would forever ignite a passion and a fervant desire for those around us.

life as a stranger

what does it mean to be bound to a people who are “other?” to see your identity in someone that is a stanger? or, in a different light, what does it mean to be the stranger? the other? these are some questions that i believe are central to the issues of our christian identity narrated through the lens of immigrant reality.

in this piece entitled, ruth and naomi, by the artist he qi, i am reminded of such a story in the old testament about a daughter-in-law, ruth, who had decided to leave the only land she knew in hopes of being bound to a new people, a new land, through her mother-in-law naomi.  it is a story of a woman who saw her identity so closely bound to her husband’s people that she chose to become the stranger as a moabite in bethlehem. in ruth 1:16 she tells naomi,

where you go i will go, and where you stay i will stay. your people will be my people and your god my god….

what does this mean? why is this so profound?

for those who have been to my home in seattle, you know that this artwork stands prominently as the focal point in our living room. it is not only a reminder of my immigrant parents who each, in their own way, struggled with the overpowering pull of assimilation, but more profoundly, it is a reminder of my own struggles of placedness and identity, both culturally and as a christian.

though i am an asian-american woman, more specifically, a korean-american woman, i have often found my home/refuge/comfort to be amongst a people whom most koreans have historically considered as “others”- the african-american community. in friendships, in communities of worship, in my affinities, and ultimately in my spouse, i have found a freedom, love, embrace with a people who i now cannot see myself without. however, like many things that are worth something, it has been costly.

as the painting so intimately depicts, our binding to another that blurs the very lines of where one begins and the other ends, is the binding that christ calls each of us to – to a people who may be strange to us, foreign, or alien to all that makes us comfortable. in this way, are we willing to be the stanger? to be the one who picks the fields after another, who waits for the other to determine our livelihood?

friends, this is the space where christ dwells. it is in christ’s body where all are bound together. may the same spirit that binds us to our creator, bind us in ways that begin to transform who i think you are to who christ says we are.