A PASTOR’S LIFE

(Life as lived by a pastor behind the scene)

In The Beginning…

All I ever know as a young man was to give my life to serve Him. I didn't envisage myself to be a pastor. I didn't pursue a life of a pastor – I accidentally stumbled into it. I just wanted to teach Bible Study classes, preach, and go on mission (whatever that is!) Well, when I finally left my job and came out by faith I spent a month not doing anything – of course, waking up each morning trying to pray and read the bible but quickly I was staring into the open sky more than meditating. Thank God the church took me in. I started as a clerk in the church doing Accounts that also came with a fancy role called Mission Director but really means whatever you want it to be. At the end of the day, I was really just a full-time worker doing all the clerical job that needed to be done because no one else would do that voluntarily.

 

Well, I did that for quite a while until the Church actually employed a qualified Administrator. Suddenly I was given a letter of appointment stating that I am an administrative clerk but conveniently my role as Mission Director was nowhere to be found. I felt cheated so I brought up the issue and they placed the Mission Director into my letter of appointment. Clerical work practically took up all of my time. And the mission thingy was for show. I couldn't blame them too because I didn’t know what that was too!

To cut the long story short I asked for a transfer from the administration because I felt that when I answered the call to serve him it was not to do account, keep petty cash, count money and fetch Speakers from the airport, etc. so they did transfer me to the pastoral office. By the way, there was no pastoral office because the church doesn't have any pastors – it was run mostly by lay leaders who called themselves Elders. So technically I was the first pastor of FGA (Full Gospel Assembly) - Penang Branch then. My major job function: fetched speakers from and to the airport, kept records of newcomers in the church, led a home fellowship and taught in a bible class occasionally. And yeah, another thing – I was a pastoral staff but no one called me pastor! That’s reserved for the only one! It was equivalent to “Tan Sri” nowadays and there was such a respect for the title. But today, every Tom, Dick or Harry (or to be politically correct, every Jean and Jenny) can be called a Pastor! It’s scary. On a side-note: nowadays, I am fine if no one calls be a pastor because it does not conjure any more respect than my first name does anyway!

That’s how it all began….

THE REAL ME

I was not a pastor’s material to start with. I love to be alone doing my own thing and definitely not the sociable type. I guess I could do relationship and fellowship (that also must have something in common) for maybe half hour but if it gets too long I get uncomfortable. Sometimes I would experience a knot in my stomach and I know my time is up and I need to get out. It’s really strange to say all this, after all I became a pastor for close to 29 years! How did I ever get through – must be a sheer miracle.

Seriously, I endured visitation more than anyone can imagine. I dread going to the hospital and certainly the morgue, funeral parlor, cemetery, and crematorium were not on my list of place of visit. But I did go to such places since I became a pastor. I am only telling you my inner dread, the real me, and the real person who was not but is! It’s funny though because in my lifetime as a pastor I was at the hospital, morgue, funeral parlor, cemetery and crematorium more times than I could count. I was there at odd hours too! On many occasions, I was with the bereaved families comforting them and praying for them. I remember I had to bury two of my church members in Nibong Tebal. It was not an ordinary sight – I had to see to the whole arrangement as well as preach, pray and sing too! I think God has a sense of humor. It was truly a time of testing for me.

Just about my short time in Nibong Tebal I had to attend so many funerals. There was one death that was very sad and devastated many hearts. It was the death of a young doctor (the only son of my church member) who caught a deadly virus while treating a patient in England. Just to see his mother holding the urn can really break anyone’s heart. It was tough. I found it so difficult to even convey any condolences. I didn't find myself brave enough to stand by her.

So that’s the real me. If there is one thing that I feared the most in my early days as a pastor it would be facing death. That’s probably the reason why I dread going to the hospital and attending funerals. I would avoid, really avoid, looking at a dead body, no matter how saintly they look at the time of death. The image of them always get edged into my memory and I find it so difficult to shack it off. I have been set free from that. Praise the Lord! But still the real me hates such places!

PROFESSIONAL DEMEANOR

There was one particular incident worth relating to you. Like I said, funeral homes and crematorium were not places of ease for me but still as a pastor I had to be there now and then. Sometimes as pastors we had to act with confident and boldness while within us our emotional bottom was falling out – so to speak.

I don’t know how long ago but when Joseph Savarimuthu first came to Penang to do pastoral internship Ps. Chong Leang and myself was put in charge of him. He was supposed to understudy with us in the worship ministry but because we were involved in everything and all things (the Chinese said: “Pau Sua, Pau Hai” – directly translated as “covering the hills and the sea.”) So we had an elderly man who passed away and cremation was not so common then. In fact, it was our first time that we had to go with the family to the crematorium the following day to pick up the bones and throw it into the sea off Gurney Drive. We never let Joseph knows that we were newbies and that we were scared. We acted so professionally as if this was an ordinary affair. That morning we went with trepidation but thankfully Joseph was not aware of it.

Just imagine with me for a moment: we were there that morning and the undertaker took out the bone fragments wrapped up in a piece of white cloth. It was not even in an urn! He untied the cloth and asked us to verified it (it makes no sense and I was feeling not too well inside to say or think straight). Anyway the dead man’s wife asked us to pray over the bones and bless the family. We did and off we go with the bundle of bone fragments to Gurney Drive. Again, at Gurney Drive the boat man took the bones and asked for a red packet to ward off evil I guess. At the end of the “ritual” we prayed again for the family. All this time Joseph was observing and learning I think but he was not aware that this was our first time too!

So that’s the secret of mentoring….

OF PROPHECY, GIFTS AND TALENTS

Coming from the background of a Charismatic-Pentecostal Brethren Church the gifts of the Holy Spirit is central to our lives and walk. Particularly the prophetic was very prominent in our circle. It always intrigue me to grow up in the environment of such spirit-filled atmosphere to also have such a sense of doubt about the carrier of those prophetic words. I don’t know how to explain. I need to be careful here – I do believe in the gift of prophecy. I had many prophetic words spoken over me that have come to pass accurately so I am not downgrading the effective use of the prophetic gifting, in fact, I exonerate it! Just like I hated in performing the pastoral duty for the dead and the living yet I did it nonetheless – not with a grudge but just with a sense of dread. Likewise, when it comes to the prophetic I believe it so much but I doubt it so much too at the same time. Irony, isn't it?

I was one of those who would transcribed all the prophetic words given over me and read it from time to time. I would praise God for the fulfillment of the prophetic words but I have to admit that some of the “so-called” prophetic words were some gibberish coming out from some people too. But I am not writing to discredit the gifts but I would throw caution to the wind when it comes to the carrier of the prophetic words.

One of the thing that I chuckled about were the different words that came to me over the years regarding my calling and gifting. I remember way back in 1979 that I received a word from a man of God from down under. The words are still so fresh in my memory – “Launch out into the deep, cast forth your net and you will bring in the harvest!” The words were loosely quoted from Luke 5. I was in a Bible School in Singapore then - broke, defeated, discouraged, and felt like a failure. I was going to pack my bags and head home to Penang when the word of the Lord came through for me. I stayed back and the rest is history. In 1980 Des Short prophesied over me that I would be a teacher of the Word. Well, I have stuck to teaching the Bible all these years and I enjoyed it very much.

But what I wanted to share was the fact that along the years thereafter I have many “prophets” coming along and laid hands on me and spoke powerfully. One called me to stand up and said that the Lord has placed a silver trumpet in my mouth – a call to be an evangelist. Some years later another came over to me and laid his hands on me and said that God is raising me up as an apostle – the mantle of authority. Wow, that sounds great. Further down the road a passing by speaker was praying for the pastors in the senior pastor’s office. This prophet said that I have a significant pastoral gift. So you guess, the cynical me rises up and I mentioned to my fellow pastors – “I wonder when I would be prophesied over that I would be called to be a prophet to the nation!” We had a good laugh because all those who knows me knows that I don’t do prophecy, period! So it’s really funny – teacher, evangelist, pastor, and apostle – I must be very gifted.

Honestly, I am secure in Christ. I love to teach the Word of God. I love to explain, to explore, and to discover the Truth of God. That’s me. Maybe I do have a little apostolic gifting because I love to chart new course, pioneer new work or ministry, and cross-cultural missions but evangelist, pastor and prophet? I have to think about that, really!

I LOVE MY “DO NOTHING” BOX

That’s one place that I rather be and that is to go to my “do nothing” box – exactly, do nothing! It’s great to be given the opportunity to preach, to teach, and to do ministry but honest to goodness, it would be even more wonderful to be left alone to do nothing and stare into space for a while after all the preaching and the teaching.

One of the things that I love to do (even up till today) is to go to the Mall. I would just walk and walk all over the Mall thinking of nothing and buying nothing. I can do that for hours, maybe stop for a little while to take a drink or buy some tic-bits to munch. This is my favorite time especially after a hectic time of ministry, preaching and teaching. One of the things my children would remind me is to stop staring at people. I admit, I do that quite often. And when I do I spaced out – I would survey the person from his/her head to his/her foot. It’s nothing sensual but when I survey them my mind would go into free gear and I would imagine the kind of person he/she is – married, divorced, sad, happy, burden with problems or not. And the list goes on. I would size-up the person: the clothes he/she wears tells me something about him/her, the kind of shoes he/she wears, and his/her mannerism. I mean, I would literally spaced-out. So I have a vivid imagination – a fecundity of imagination!

But after being in my “do nothing” box I would come out of it recuperated, re-energised, and strengthen physically, emotionally, and spiritually to go on living! There were umpteen times when I received great inspiration to write, to think clearly, and to prepare my notes for teaching and preaching! I do get inspiration to write on FB too – maybe too much imagination, cynicism, and just plain boredom too!

“PROVOKING” MY SONS

Just as the title suggests I do love to do that especially after a hard day of meetings and dealing with people. Just let you in on a secret: every pastor dread dealing with the sheep – correcting them and disciplining them. It’s not easy and not rewarding too! We are dealing with sheep who choose to be part of your flock and can disappear somewhere else in a moment’s notice. We dread the fact that a sheep would leave the flock out of correction and discipline. It’s always not a nice feeling. And working with the sheep (all volunteers) are so different than working with employees in a secular firm. In the world, as a boss you have the last say because the employee knows that he needed the salary at the end of the month but in the church there’s no such pressure. So the sheep can just disappear or worse still they can turn round and bite you!

Back to the story of my children. After a hard day’s work I love to relax. My relaxation was to play with my children. Of course I don’t do that now because my sons were all adults now, bigger in size, and stronger than me. When they were little I love to squeeze them (more like trying to squash then), tickled them, and catch hold of one of their legs.  I remember my boys trying to break free and I would just pretend to sleep but my hand would gripped the leg firmly and tightly. They would be turning and twisting trying to get free and I would keep pretending. It was fun for a while until they burst out in tears. Then the game was over. Mom would scold me. The boys would be whimpering away in the corner of the room. And I would be feeling satisfied that my stress had been released but at the same time feeling guilty that I made them cry. These would go on day after day. What a dad I am! Ha-ha.

Well, I would get out from the bed and go to them and apologized profusely and said that I love them very much. I would embraced them and kiss them nicely until they actually melt in my arms. So, the next day, the process starts again. This dad never learned, really!

But I don’t do that with my daughter – she’s too delicate. In fact, I had never caned her even once. She was no angel, but she’s a girl so I was too soft in my heart to cane her. Maybe that’s why she still gets what she wants even today! Daddy got a soft spot for her I guess.

SWEET MONDAY

Mondays are the best days for stressed-out pastors. I looked forward to Monday day-off because that’s the day I can do anything “non-church” and not feel strange. So one of the things that I do was to sleep in. Oh…I love those beautiful sleep – waking up at 12 noon on Monday is sublime, exquisite, and “revengeful”. After shower and lunch I would sit in front of my computer and (certainly not preparing sermons or anything spiritual) watch movies and TV Series. In the evening I would scoot off to the mall and enjoy my “do-nothing” routine exercise. What a day? Mondays were only interrupted when my wife wanted something or wanted to go somewhere.

One of my buddy did suggest to people that I have an endless supply of HD / Blue-ray movie downloads – no need to buy from the shop or wait for it to come on Astro! That’s seditious. I should file a complaint with the IGP and get that buddy of mine on a sedition charge – it sound like I have lots of downloads, it looks like I have given them lots of downloaded movies, but it’s not me, certainly, not me!

Many times I would do lunch with my buddies too. We called ourselves the “Five Wise Guys” or “Char Sio Bak Guys”. Usually we would end up singing the blues – about church, family, the country and whatever! It’s a never ending story, I mean, every time we meet there seems to more juicy news, spicy complaints, and Ajinomoto (MSG) added to the story. It’s perpetual. But in spite of it all we do have some wonderful times bantering at each another with such felicity at the expense of others.

Usually these same “Wise Guys” would turned up at my house after 10 pm for supper. And the story continues! Well, that’s many of the Mondays over the years!

NEVER ASK YOUR WIFE FOR AN OPINION IF YOU CAN’T TAKE A BULLET

One of the many, many task of a pastor is preaching assignment. For some, especially those with the gift of the gap, it is quite an easy task. I mean the task is easy but whether the delivery has satisfactory result is another thing altogether. But I can say with confident that many pastors would find it stressful to prepare a sermon and even more challenging in delivering a sermon. Even until today (after more than 20 years standing behind the pulpit) I can still experience butterfly in my stomach before I go up the pulpit.

One of my life’s painful lessons is to ask my wife about my preaching. While I may have accolades of praises after the service about how excellent my sermon was my wife never failed to give me the most down-to-earth comments – say it as it is! She’s brutal most of the time, “sadistic,” I think, on my sermon at times, and certainly in my face as I should hear it. I hated asking her opinion but I can’t resist the temptation of desperately hoping to hear a compliment. Yes, she does give positive feedback but always with a caveat – should have said this, shouldn't have mentioned that, blah, blah, blah. But you know, it’s painful. And honestly, I would love to bathe in the praises of people who come around and pat my back of a job well done! But again I would come away from her comments (sometimes tearing apart my sermons) stronger when I realized that she was just been honest – just the way God wired her! After all I cannot fault her theology too because she’s impeccable in that area. On top of that she lived it too! One of her comment was that I didn't practiced what I preached! Ouch….

One of the things that I love about my late wife was the tenacity of her faith. I am not saying that she’s the only one because I know of many wives in the church who are tenacious in their faith and I salute them. Guys need to grow up in this department, I think! So armed with tenacity my wife would stand firm and does not allow circumstances or situations to hold her hostage! And in dealing with me and her children she followed strictly her values and ethical stand. There were times that she saw me doing things that are not correct and she would not hesitate to let me know. Most of the time she would allowed for me to ask her first about certain thing but if I don’t she would come out and state her stand clearly and firmly. I love her for that. In the beginning I was too proud to recognize it but later on in marriage I truly treasured her opinion, her contributions, and her ideas about ministry, work, family, and life.

So guys, ask your wife for her opinion and take the bullet like a gentleman!