I don't pretend to be an expert at many things. In fact, a long-standing frustration of mine has been the imbalance between things I'm good at (quite a few), and things I'm truly exceptional at (close to, if not actually at, zero). I have a strong competitive streak which runs just beneath my seemingly easygoing demeanor, so it galls me somewhat to have a skill set which enables me to be competent - but not exceptional - at a wide array of things.¹
For a while, I reigned supreme. Having taught others to play, I had a head-start on strategy and technique. And even as the rest of the crew honed their skills, I managed to stay just ahead of the growth curve. That isn't to say that I won all the time, but I definitely wore the victor's wreath more than most.⁴
One possible exception to this trend of exceeding-mediocrity-but-not-approaching-greatness would be my track record in playing Settlers of Catan: Cities and Knights.² When I moved to England three years ago, I soon managed to indoctrinate several friends into the cult of Catan, and we started playing religiously. And not just east-coast U.S. religious, but proper Bible-belt America religious at that.³ We had a wreath of laurels which was transferred upon whoever the champion was, and the current victor would often be known to flaunt their title as "Lord of Catan" in conversations.
Yes, it is every bit as nerdy as it sounds.
Yes, it is every bit as nerdy as it sounds.
For a while, I reigned supreme. Having taught others to play, I had a head-start on strategy and technique. And even as the rest of the crew honed their skills, I managed to stay just ahead of the growth curve. That isn't to say that I won all the time, but I definitely wore the victor's wreath more than most.⁴
Being involved in any sort of full-time ministry has a way of blurring the lines between what is work and what is normal life. If your job is investing in people - and if that's something you'd be inclined to do anyways - how can you draw a line through relationships, carving some off as work and others as not? How can you make the distinction between creating community as part of your duty, and spending time with friends who you care about because that's just what you do?
Beats me.
There are dangers with shades of grey, with blurry lines and unclear labels. There are times for defining the context of a relationship as either professional or personal. Too much ambiguity can diminish the simple joy of spending time with a friend, or of trying to help someone become a fully devoted follower of Christ by using the gifts, skills and training you've been blessed with.
But clear demarcations can cut deeply as well. Forcing anything into a box - especially a relationship - can stifle it.
We never defined those games of Settlers as ministry. There was no "plan to generate authentic community and regular fellowship opportunities through frequent interactions in a neutral, seeker friendly context while also enabling a creative outlet for the competitive nature of university-age males."⁵ We played because, well, that's what we liked to do.
Here's the funny thing, though: the core group that met religiously - and still is known to frequent the gaming table⁶ on occasion - has stayed connected and committed to one another. Not only that, but over the past few years, all of the guys have been involved at a significant level in ministry, whether it be the campus ministry in Southampton or their local church or in some cases both.
So was it work? Or fun?
Yes.
This isn't meant to generate a ministry template which I, or others, should attempt to repeat or recreate. And it isn't an attempt to over-spiritualize a mainly recreational (and thoroughly enjoyable) pastime. But when I sat down last weekend with this particular group of guys, it struck me just how much a silly board game had drawn us together over the years. How the friendly rivalries and in-game banter have somehow generated greater depth and commitment in our relationships. How hanging out with a bunch of guys around a multi-tiled board game can be an undefined and yet integral part of my life and ministry.⁷
And it dawned on me that, just maybe, the real skill I brought to this equation wasn't an exceptional talent at board game,⁸ but was instead of a more garden-variety nature: a simple love for games, for small groups of close friends, for fun and laughter and stupid jokes, and an ability and desire to use all of those loves to help cement a small community of friends together
Just maybe.
Beats me.
There are dangers with shades of grey, with blurry lines and unclear labels. There are times for defining the context of a relationship as either professional or personal. Too much ambiguity can diminish the simple joy of spending time with a friend, or of trying to help someone become a fully devoted follower of Christ by using the gifts, skills and training you've been blessed with.
But clear demarcations can cut deeply as well. Forcing anything into a box - especially a relationship - can stifle it.
We never defined those games of Settlers as ministry. There was no "plan to generate authentic community and regular fellowship opportunities through frequent interactions in a neutral, seeker friendly context while also enabling a creative outlet for the competitive nature of university-age males."⁵ We played because, well, that's what we liked to do.
Here's the funny thing, though: the core group that met religiously - and still is known to frequent the gaming table⁶ on occasion - has stayed connected and committed to one another. Not only that, but over the past few years, all of the guys have been involved at a significant level in ministry, whether it be the campus ministry in Southampton or their local church or in some cases both.
So was it work? Or fun?
Yes.
This isn't meant to generate a ministry template which I, or others, should attempt to repeat or recreate. And it isn't an attempt to over-spiritualize a mainly recreational (and thoroughly enjoyable) pastime. But when I sat down last weekend with this particular group of guys, it struck me just how much a silly board game had drawn us together over the years. How the friendly rivalries and in-game banter have somehow generated greater depth and commitment in our relationships. How hanging out with a bunch of guys around a multi-tiled board game can be an undefined and yet integral part of my life and ministry.⁷
And it dawned on me that, just maybe, the real skill I brought to this equation wasn't an exceptional talent at board game,⁸ but was instead of a more garden-variety nature: a simple love for games, for small groups of close friends, for fun and laughter and stupid jokes, and an ability and desire to use all of those loves to help cement a small community of friends together
Just maybe.
¹Upon mentioning this to a mentor of mine a couple years ago, he said: "Perhaps your competence in a wide range of things is actually an exceptional skill in itself." Hmm. Something to bear in mind, I suppose.
²Sorry to reveal my inner geek, but I'm a sucker for board games, and this is one of my favorites. My all-time favorite, which I would contend that I have no peer in and also confirms beyond reasonable doubt just how much of a nerd I really am, is Epic Duels, but that doesn't enter this particular line of thought.
³East coast religious is once-a-week at best, with twice a year - Christmas and Easter - being closer to average. Bible-belt religious is three times a week, at a minimum, and possibly more if you're on some sort of board or committee.
⁴Sadly (for me), that streak has not continued. Over the past few weeks I've been soundly thumped each time I've played. There goes yet another dream of dominance up in smoke...
⁵Although in retrospect, I'd feel like much more of a genius if I had developed a plan, implemented it, and then watched it subversively work. In fact, who's to say I didn't?
⁶Board games. Not gambling. Come on, seriously?
⁷Also, "How I tend to ramble on about life events and try to lend the air of importance to what I do by creating spiritual parallels for even the most mundane of occurrences."
⁸Although I would argue that I definitely brought that as well.
⁶Board games. Not gambling. Come on, seriously?
⁷Also, "How I tend to ramble on about life events and try to lend the air of importance to what I do by creating spiritual parallels for even the most mundane of occurrences."
⁸Although I would argue that I definitely brought that as well.