There aren’t many stories that surprise me – but this one, from my friend in Wellington (who shall remain nameless for now) takes the cake of the strangest-to-date.
They work in an area of town well-populated with gang members and various criminal activity. One member of a local gang has been involved with the church via the youth pastor for a few years now – helping out with Christmas decorating and other activities, generally associated because of the nature of this youthworker to connect with people of all sorts. In fact, because of this gangmember’s associations and connection with the church – he’s been introduced to the senior pastor a couple of times over the past ten years or so.
However, a short time ago, when our local friend was in fact, dodging the police.. he thought hiding out in the sanctuary of his church would be a good option. He hid, the police sprung him and the senior pastor happened to be there. Terrible time for the SP to have a memory lapse.. but.. when the local said this was his church.. the SP didn’t recall having seen him before.
Long story short – local ends up before the courts to answer a few charges etc. The police summon the pastor of the church (serving notice etc), to testify according to the affadavit he signed at the time of the arrest.
Small issue. The summons was delivered to the youth pastor who then ended up spending three days at court as a police witness, thoroughly debunking the senior pastor’s affadavit that said the local wasn’t associated with their church at all.
The end result? She thought she was appearing as a witness for the defence, the police got highly confused about exactly which witness they were questioning and the strangest days in her youth ministry career occur … spent in the docks testifying against the senior pastor’s sworn statement in regards to knowing the defendant.
Oh golly. Thankfully the SP managed to have a good laugh about it. Sheesh. Awkward timesheets at staff meeting though.
We live as people of the Narrative. We’re becoming more and more comfortable with this idea in many places, both secular and spiritual. Even our liminal spaces are becoming places where narrative unfolds with meaning, if not with action and movement.
We need stories, but we need specific kinds of stories, especially as we develop leadership, thinking that cuts against the grain, as we walk journeys that differ from the path most often travelled.
Here are the stories I have come to recognise the need for. Of course, attached to stories, are storytellers – sometimes the messenger, sometimes the subject of autobiography. I need these storytellers and their stories – and I suspect, especially for those making our way from the edge to the centre and back again.. that you do too..
I need the stories of people who have done things differently to me. I need the stories of people who are still doing things differently. I need the stories of people who are doing the same things as me. I need the stories of people who are doing the same things as me, and more. I need the stories of people who have done things better than me. I need the stories of people who have/are succeeding where I have not. I need the stories of people who have/are failing where I have not. I need the stories of people whose answers I do not have. I need the stories of people whose questions I can assist. I need the stories of people who will not give up despite hopelessness. I need the stories of people who have given up with good cause. I need the stories of people I have no compassion for. I need the stories of people that seem not to matter, for meaning percolates. I need the stories of people that survive, and those who do not.
Do you notice a theme in these stories we need?
He tangata, he tangata, he tangata. Ask me, what is the most important thing, and I will tell you – it is people, it is people, it is people. The breath of Life.
The Storytellers I need the storytellers who can share the biography and autobiography of their own narrative and local meta-narrative. Those who understand the beauty of moments when you recognise the same story, on opposite sides of the ocean, at the other end of the island.
Unbelievably enough we are back in the month of February. I’m looking for new projects both creatively and work-wise. I’m trying to get the rhythm and routine of healthy life back. I’m planning on enjoying more time with family and friends. I’m praying and planning on finance for travel. I have plenty of stuff to blog on and about – more later. Meanwhile.. here’s a couple of favourite pics from Parachute fest last weekend.
Also www.paperrouteonline.com Which just goes to prove that following people you don’t know on Twitter can sometimes prove worthwhile and useful. Thanks for that!
Now I have satisfied your aural tastebuds….. that is all.
verse There’s a darkness in me There’s a shadow A fear that sometimes takes hold It leads me right out to the desert Where I face the winds alone But you always lead me home Despite the storms that roar You love me well In darkness I am held By hands that hold the world You never let me go
chorus You are light The glorious light
verse 2 You take everything broken Redeem it My imperfect heart make whole Everything beautiful reveal it And all by your glorious light And you always lead me home Despite the storms that roar You love me well In darkness I am held By hands that hold the world You never let me go
chorus You are light The glorious light You are light in the darkness You are radiant glorious light
Oh my soul, fly to that resting place Where peace is found before my Father’s grace Be still and know, that He is God No darkness can quench His light
Tash McGill is a broadcaster, writer and strategist who works with people and organisations to solve problems and create transformation. She believes people are the most important thing and that stories are powerful ways of changing the world. You can find out more at tashmcgill.com or by visiting her LinkedIn profile.
