When your discipler is broken...

Dedicated to Ate Flor. Yes, you. :D Love you!

Guys aren't the only ones with the macho attitude, the I-have-to-be-strong, nobody-should-ever-see-a-weak-part-in-me mentality.

Girls have that too. I, for one, have such an attitude. I think it stemmed up from realizing that crying never really made things easier. As an infant and a toddler, I bawled to get something - anything - I wanted. I think I began to realize that tears had lost its magic for me when I was about seven or eight. All the other times beyond that age, I was humiliated whenever I cried, and-I cried whenever I was humiliated.

You get the point: I saw crying as a weakness. (Sometimes, I still do.)

This is one part of my life which God is still refining. I rarely cry in front of other people, not even my family. Not my friends. Definitely not my disciples. Often do people expect other people to behave the way they do; I expected the same behavior from relatively all others - from my family, from my disicples. I expected the same from my discipler.

So when my dear, dear discipler wept to us yesterday afternoon... well, I was sort of stunned. Not that I hadn't been expecting it. I had heard some about the difficulties she had been and still is going through right now, and she has already shared how God was teaching her as well to disclose to others. Baka daw kasi bumaba ang tingin sa kanya.

But no, at that moment, when she was sharing to us, fighting to smile through her tears, sharing to us her hopes and fears, I couldn't help thinking: I have yet to see her more beautiful than she is now. I have yet to see God greater in her life than at this moment. How lovely, lovely she is.

I have always wondered why the statement "Jesus wept" was given a verse on its own in the Bible. It seemed too trivial, too small a thing to be bothered to be even recorded. Now I believe it must have been written there to show Jesus' connection and ability to relate to other humans. It was to show that God, after all, does understand his creations above anyone else. It was to show that He was something other than a legalistic, cruel, stoic Being who did nothing but execute punishments; Someone more than a vending maching humans pester to grant them their wishes and desires.

Similary, I believe there is a bond created between the mentor who shares not just the joyous, but the painful as well, to his / her disciples. It implies a beautiful trust, an offering of a part of this older person's life.

What do you when the person you look up to is in a broken state? You look at his / her reaction. You look at how he / she handles it. The person is, after all, your mentor. It might seem or sound heartless, but really, once you have accepted your position as a learner from this person, you inevitably, unconsciously try to learn from this person's every move, every word, every attitude - even at the person's expense. How privileged the learner is who is able to learn wise things from a wise mentor who reacts wisely in every circumstance! Just as the the twelve disciples and early Christians learned much from The Great Discipler's brokenness, so do we - must we - learn from our mentors and leaders in their brokenness.

Now I see how privileged I am.

And no, hindi bumaba ang tingin ko sa kanya. If anything, my respect for her has deepend two-fold.

Why I like difficult.

I expected challenges when I first enrolled in the required Communication 199 (Thesis Proposal) last year, but the challenges I, together with all my other classmates, faced throughout the course were beyond what our imagination could fathom at the time.

Our Professor, who I choose to believe is driven by excellence and a desire for it, was a very intelligent person. She didn't hide the fact that Research was her favorite course back in her college days, and we were just amazed with her stories of her "nerdity".

My classmates and I quickly noticed the difference between our class and the other classes taught by another professor. For one, we had a difficult time choosing our topics, because The Prof unabashedly eliminated those she deemed insignificant of study. I know a trio who submitted three sets of topics - all rejected. At the end of the course, our grades simply magnified the difference between our class and the other. The other class' grades ranged from 85 (roughly 2.0, if my calculations are correct) and above. I and my partner got the highest - 2.25. And a lot of my classmates failed.

But even when we were grovelling to meet The Prof's demands, spending sleepless nights revising and revising again to meet her standards, and even when at the end, my final grade for the course was lower than what I would have preferred, I still say that I do not regret being under her. In fact, yes, let me say it -- I loved it.

Early on, I told my thesis partner Charlie that we would have to do anything and everything to meet The Standards, even if it hurt us. This principle applied even at the initial part of the course when we first had to choose our topics. I wanted to do something on Culture and Communication and already had my eyes on a specific village in Ifugao. That meant having to spend a huge amount of energy and resources. But I insisted, because I believed we had a better chance of bagging the Best Thesis prize with such a study.

And so every time we were faced with the choice of doing something difficult or doing something easy, Charlie would just look at me, understanding, and say, "Oo, alam ko, gusto mong pinahihirapan ang sarili mo."

For the record, I am no masochist.

But during that time, while we were undergoing the course and it became plain how much harder we were having it compared to the other classes, even while my classmates cursed The Prof for all such hardships and themselves for taking her class, I held on. I think I believed that we were much better off and were under better tutelage than the other class, and hence, I equated all these difficulties with better quality - of education and of learning.

And so when I held the returned and checked final output bearing the red mark of 2.0 it was pure bliss. Bliss at having conquered The Prof's hurdles. And an unquenchable feeling of pride at being the owner of such a mark.

Again, I am not a masochist, but I like difficult, because from personal observation, difficult does often result to best. One example is our respective college educations. Some people believe they are better (indeed, others have proven to be better) than others because their college educations were more difficult than others.

Think of the choir members who receive the Conductor's stinging criticisms and commands openly and willingly, knowing that following such an expert would make them better performers.

Or Manny Pacquiao, who endured hellish trainings under his Coach for the reward of victory and titles and trophies and wealth enough to make anyone drool.

Think of a doctor, or a nurse. Would you trust your life to the hands of someone you know has not had any proper training, someone who achieved his diploma from one of the many diploma-factories in the country masquerading as "nurse colleges"? And the reward of the doctor's or the nurse's difficult training could be a license to practice.


Think of the soldier. The soldier cannot possibly be effective in battle without having passed through rigorous and arduous training. One reward the soldier is glad to receive could simply be that of keeping his own life.


Think of our faith. How many times in the Bible were we Christians called to endure, to stand fast, to keep the faith? All these point the simple stark fact that things are to be difficult, hard, weary. And while our experiences may differ greatly, I think we can agree on the fact that at one point in our lives, we feel like going through the Shadow of Death.

The results, however, of such difficulties are promising and indeed are to be looked forward to - stronger faith, more maturity, a deeper relationship with and understanding of God, fruitful and abundant life... the list goes on.

And that is why I like difficult.


In retrospect, another reward of going through The Prof is having less difficulty now in Comm 200 (Thesis Proper) than those who were in the other class. Our formats and content, it turned out, are those appropriate for the Thesis Proper.

I do not want to be an additional reason for anyone to mock my Christ.

First, let me say this. The Internet is AMAZING. Of course, even with all those effects, that still is an understatement (Come on Sarah, we're living in the Digital Age! Of course we know that.)

But why do I start this post with such a statement? Well, simply because I stumbled on the amazing first six essays from Anne Jackson's  "Permission to Speak Freely" book on the internet. The book is just free form the press and I would never have had the chance to read such essays were it not for The Net. How empowering. Also, I was able to find some really though-provoking sites and organizations I never even knew existed in the internet... such as xxxchurch.com (more in this later, promise). Side note: Sometimes, I wonder if my extensive browsing, even in the "Safe Website Arena" (safe AND wholesome, mind you) wouldn't get me in trouble.

Anne Jackson's second essay was up on Jon Acuff's SCL site yesterday (http://stuffchristianslike.net/2010/08/3601/), and from there, I tracked all seven essays. The essays were actually Jackson's narratives about her life as PK and her families' very painful experiences in various churches.

Here is an excerpt (you really should check that link up there):

"When I was sixteen, my family was at the last church my dad would ever pastor. It was in the booming town of Abilene, Texas. We had lived there around three—maybe four—years, and the inevitable mess of real life began to take its toll. People began to show who they really were, complaining about this or demanding that, and justifying their actions with “for the Bible tells me so,” or “My daddy laid the foundation of this church,” the latter statement carrying more weight than the former.

My dad, who was the senior pastor at this church, was passionate about caring for people who are far from faith. Because he believed everyone in the church should participate in helping others, he taught classes coaching people on why we should be concerned for our community and how to love people when they are going through a difficult time.

However, most people at this particular church had been members for life. Nobody had ever asked them to step out of their pews before. To them, you went to church three times a week, and that was how you found Jesus and built your mansion up in heaven. My dad was the one getting paid to care for people. Why in the world would he ask them to do the same without getting paid for it?

His challenging the status quo did not sit well with some of the congregation. After a few months of tension and secret meetings, my dad was asked to resign his position at one of the church’s monthly business meetings.
And they didn’t ask kindly either. An avalanche of insults and lies tumbled down on my family and on another pastor in the church who supported my dad."


Those essays to me were amazingly horrifying. AMAZINGLY HORRIFYING. And again, for emphasis, let me say that that is a mere understatement. My heart ached for her, even as my mind reeled in unbelief. Could there really be such "Christians"?


Then I stumbled on xxxChurch.com, which initally really FREAKED me out (be honest, I know you are too!). I was like, is this some pseudo-Christian cult? But then I surmised, from the way it was being endorsed by other Christian websites, then it really must be Christian. Upon further investigation, I found out that xxxChurch is a Christian organization with the queer ministry for folks with problems with pornography, and other sins of a sexual nature.

Even more shocking to me than discovering that such an organization exists is the fact that one of their staff took his own life. Apparently the reason why he did it was because he could no longer endure the guilt and frustration he had over the "sexual" sins he committed. Many people are apt to judge, for one, his salvation, but I do not wish to. I do not wish to cast stones. No.

Reading and learning all these things and discovering these sites opened my eyes to the reality of sin IN the church; that Chrstians are struggling just as much,or probably even more, than those who are not.

But didn't Christ have victory over all sin already?

Moreover, all these taught me that while sin and Satan are far less powerful than God, they should never be downplayed, especially by the Christian who is ever the Enemy's target.

And I was warned to live carefully, always obeying intentionally, and not providing an opening for the Enemy. If anything, my resolve to live right in the eyes of God was deepened.

I do not want to reach the point of such despair and guilt and shame that the only alternative would be to take my own life.

I do not want to cause anyone to stumble.

I do not want to be an additional reason for anyone to mock my Christ.