Year 2013: Part 1

YEAR 2013: PART 1

Items that really defined 2013 for me include:
- Taking on the role of fellowship leader
- Departure from drama class
- 1 Samuel Bible study & Renewed Life fellowship


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AT THE HELM OF AGAPE FELLOWSHIP

The is the one of the two events that ended 2012 on a violent note for me.

Becoming leader was a violent choice. It was violent against my personal temperament. I did not really like to lead, because I didn't really like society in general.

It was probably also violent against the opinions of other people. I volunteered for leadership, and of course they didn't want to put me down, so they did not oppose. But they probably knew deep inside that I was quite self-absorbed, and not really leadership material.

About a week ago Stephen called. He was struggling with the same question, but with greater intensity because he has a greater understanding of his weakness than I did last year around this time. At first, he completely dismissed the idea of becoming the leader of Renewed Life fellowship. But some people were urging him on. Talking to him made me think more about what made me decide to do it last year.

Pride was honestly a factor. I fancied myself the theologically superior to the rest of the members, so of course I should be the one.

But also there's God's hand in this. Like I said, I did not like to lead. But despite this, somehow God used my own fleshly desires to never push away an opportunity to learn to lead.

Since I was young, I was given lots of opportunities to lead small groups and so on. When I was 14, I very foolishly volunteered to be president of camp, without really knowing what the job was for. I did terrible. All I knew was that if nobody wanted it, it doesn't kill me to try. I was trying to break the boundaries of my own introversion, because it felt terrible living in my own world. I wanted to be noticed and to be commended.

As much as I hated leading, I rarely rejected a direct invitation to do so, and thus was almost consistently trained to do so from the time I began to home school.

Of course, the motivation behind my endurance of such a training is sinful. But God used it for good.

And so, other than the pride factor, there was the perception of God's will for me to do it. I looked around and nobody really seemed ready to lead. Somehow I knew it was my turn, in addition to external encouragements that I'm the next one to take the role. Seeing the work of God in my life, I felt quite ready. I hoped to bring some sort of revival to the fellowship.

It was until this year that I found out it wasn't meant to be pretty.

I felt like God stripped me bare. My mistakes were going public, and I saw the effects they have on people. I was not as good a leader as I expected myself to be, and I became increasingly frightened of the role. Every week became a performance, and my acting was so bad I could've won a Razzie Award.

I hated it. It was the introvert's worst nightmare: being publicly disliked. I feel responsible for nearly halving the number of people who are turning up. My plans turned out to be worthless, and I realized I didn't know nor care about my fellowship members at all. Yet I was still at the helm and struggling with all my personal problems.

I was so scared. Now that I look back, I realize that I was truly so scared. Halfway through the year, the idea of giving up crept in. Of course, it was just a ridiculous idea that I knew I couldn't possibly put into action. I was too ashamed to ask for replacement.

Such intense psychological suffering was God's molding of me, I realize. I always thought that if I'm good enough, God will use me. But now I know that isn't true. He loves me more than that; His using of me is also His molding of me. My pride was so great that He had to put me through a time like this to humble me. And after a year, I reckon it worked.

I learned how not to take it personally. I learned to say, even in a leadership position, "I'm broken and lost." I learned that there are greater glories than my shriveled ego. I learned that being small was a contentment. And by learning that I did not care for people, I began to learn to care.

Now I step down. I'm relieved that it has ended. Not that I'm no longer the leader, but that the days when I've had such a high degree of desire to please people have ended. A storm has calmed.

I expected myself to write some comments about how I did as a leader, but it seems that it's not so important to me. What's important is that God used it to bless me. I was just an imperfect vessel used for the perfect work of God.

When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways. For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known. So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.
(1 Corinthians 13:11-13)


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MY THIRD FAMILY?

The second violent event that marked the end of 2012 was my clash with my drama teacher, Milo.

There was a severe disappointment when I declared my lack of affection for my drama classmates during the drama camp last year. Of course, that was only half true; it was what I hoped to feel about them. I wished I cared less, because I knew that my infatuation with them was selfish and fleshly in the eyes of God. I knew I could not recognize them as a third family despite the incredibly strong connection I felt.

Nevertheless, I was rebuked for saying I felt that way, and also for explaining my Christian views the next morning to my teacher. I was told off for being extremist, and most importantly, was fired from my position as director and told to never return to the class again.

This was disappointing news to whoever heard it in the class. Why did I turn out to be someone like this? But they don't understand. They never did. I do.

I understood it to be God's calling. One can discuss at length what my mistakes were when speaking to the teacher, what I should've said instead and so on. But the moment he told me I shouldn't be director anymore, what I heard was God calling, "It's time, son. Time to move on to the next step of your journey."

I was so shocked and so relieved, I asked, almost in disbelief, "You would let me off?"

The thing was, I was going to direct a play for this April. I tried to sneak in my Christian views, in the worst sense of the word. But it was noticed, and I was asked to change it. My conscience wouldn't let me, and I was struggling with what to do once I started to direct it.

God let me off. And although the teacher regretted his decision to remove me from his class that very night, I knew I wasn't going to go back, because God did not rescind His decision. From then on, there was no turning back. It was for the greater good.

Why is this event important to me? Because I like them so much. I really do, and some of them especially. It was such intense pain to admit that I cannot be affectionate toward them the way they want me to, that I would not experience anything with similar intensity until half a year later, in my role as fellowship leader.

God removed the distraction, and freed up more of my time for Him. I did not have to spend three to four months of my time preparing for a stage play, and I spent more time alone to struggle with Him. The obsession with trying to be a great actor and to develop acting theories was dropped. I had one less crowd to please.

I was allowed more focus on attempting to lead God's sheep. That was so much more important.

I always wanted to return. At certain points, I desired for it so much I almost made the decision to do so. God, through many methods, prevented me from doing so.

About a month ago, there was the farewell event for the 17-year-olds, because we were supposed to be graduating from the drama class. I was invited, too, and I went. Within a day, we prepared our final stage play together, and acted it out that night. The stage play was about us, of course, and our reminisce of what we called the "Kiwi Journey". My words from the 2012 drama camp about how I only went to drama class to study drama, and not to seek a certain feeling, was featured in the play. 

And while the original idea for it was to picture our "Kiwi Journey" come to a glorious end, I was glad my involvement injected honesty into it, and at the end of our play we were not depicted as heroes at the end of a journey, but as imperfect people at the beginning of another one. Because that's what it was.

Then of course, there was the thing I said in another post about people telling me about their admiration for me and whatnot. That thorn stuck with me for a while, but as expected, it no longer does.

Their appeal to me will fade more and more. They might dislike me increasingly. And by distancing myself from them, by being holy, I will learn to truly love them, if God allows.


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MR. CHUN CHUNG

Two consistent sources of spiritual nourishment this year are the Westminster Shorter Catechism group discussions on Friday nights, and 1 Samuel Bible study on Saturday afternoons. It was during those times of fellowship that I could set down the burden of being leader. Hopefully, they will continue next year.

A few weeks ago, there was an event in Renewed Life fellowship where we were to give thanks for what happened in this year. There were some pieces of paper to randomly pick from, and the one I chose asked me to give thanks to God for putting a notable person in my life this year. I had to leave before I answered the question. Perhaps it was for the best, because the person was in the room.

He was the one whose encouragement convinced me to start writing this blog. He was also one of the few adults who affirmed my apparent gift of teaching.

His emphasis on "flesh and blood" Biblical exposition and theology also affected me profoundly. He probably influenced the way I envisioned Christian art, because he always demanded that we understand something on a personal level. This also began to change the edgy way I dealt with my fellowship members.

I'm not sure about the long-term effectiveness of his approach, but it usually is quite refreshing. During the Shorter Catechism group discussions, he would always try to take us beyond the technical and give us a very intimate understanding of doctrines. "So what?" he would say, in response to certain truths. This would push us to think more deeply what it really does mean to us. This had likely dissolved much of my pretentiousness, and instead of lowering my respect for doctrine, increased my sincerity towards it.

And of course, there's the lovely Saturday Bible study. I realized that I really did not seriously expound on the Bible in private. Perhaps it was because of my intention to try to get the flow and structure of each of the books by going through them faster. Anyhow, it's always exciting to go into the details. It's exciting because the Bible is God's literary masterpiece, and also because there's the anticipation of seeing God and His works "in flesh and blood". It feels real.

These regular times of fellowship probably kept me spiritually alive more than I can comprehend. Thank God.


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To be continued...