Jesus Year

I celebrated my 33rd birthday recently — my “Jesus Year,” as some call it. Obviously we don’t know the exact years of Jesus’ ministry, but something like 30-33 seems like an average historical consensus.

33: it’s an age I’ve been anticipating these last few years.

In 2017, when I was 30, I quit my full-time job at a boarding school to pursue more of Your Other Brothers. It’s work, certainly, editing blogs and producing regular streams of podcasts and videos, but it’s also a lot of ministry.

Responding to emails from new readers. Engaging with supporters at coffee shops. Planning weekly digital gatherings and yearly “real-life” retreats.

Am I comparing myself to Jesus, you’re asking?

Why, of course I am. But shouldn’t we all?

In my typical darkness, I joke with people that since this is my “Jesus Year,” this is it! The last one! Everything must go! Time to lay it all on the line and dive into this endeavor more than I ever have.

More blogs, more podcasts, more videos, more and more content; and, subsequently, more time invested into our ever-growing community. More and more ministry.

Because once Jesus started, He certainly didn’t stop. He was in ministry-mode all the way to the cross with the thief beside Him.

To consider a lifetime of ministry in some regard, however long my earthly frame lasts, is daunting. Ministry and leadership — such lonely places. I’ve been fortunate to find so many great friends and dear brothers through YOB, but nobody in that community will ever fully sit or stand or collapse where I am.

In recent months especially, I’ve hungered for the realization of an “equal” — not necessarily someone within YOB, or a partner or something, but someone, anyone also leading in ministry. Ideally several men — and women — like this.

It’s like . . . I need a ministry for me, too. Does that exist? Where can I find that? Will it one day find me?

When I look at Jesus’ life, I wonder how He did it. How He felt. If ever anyone had reason to feel different than everyone else, it was Him. Who on earth had a remotely similar vantage point? How did He even do ministry for three years?

Looking at Scripture, I see Jesus doing a lot of practical things for His own self-care. Assembling a close following of twelve. An intimate circle of three. A “best friend” of sorts in John.

And He spent a lot of time alone. Sure, in His God-ness He ministered to untold numbers. But in His humanness, he “often withdrew.” He needed time alone with the Father, certainly, but I believe He also needed time alone with Himself.

Jesus was human, too, after all — whether an introvert or extrovert or something in between.

I’ve made a lot of progress the last few years in assembling some sort of “Jesus model” for ministry and life. Maybe not some exact number like twelve really good friends, but I certainly have more now than when I quit my job at 30. Something of an inner circle. Maybe a “John” or two in the mix.

I certainly withdraw often; that’s a given. But that doesn’t always translate to time spent alone with the Father; in fact, in recent months, it rarely has.

I know I don’t pray enough — at least not for others. Oh, I pray for me quite regularly. I got that covered.

But taking time to pray for my friends, my family, the folks in YOB, the ones to whom I’m supposedly ministering — gosh, I don’t pray for you all nearly enough.

I think more about my life in ministry with each passing year, especially this one, turning 33, having started a local gathering of gay or SSA (same-sex attracted) men of faith. I’m now sharing my ministry load through digital means and in-person ones (you know, pandemics and current quarantines notwithstanding).

It’s a lot. Ministry is a lot. A lonely road. I want to care for myself well as Jesus did. I’m so glad Scripture shows Him running away from the crowds to get alone. That’s powerful.

I want to give grace to myself and affirm I’m doing great with what I’ve got, though there have been a slew of missteps and utter mistakes. People have been distanced and hurt in the last three years, and it can really grieve me sometimes.

I’ve learned that you can never have enough empathy. Never enough patience. Never enough listening skills. Active listening skills that focus on every syllable and blink and breath.

I feel deficient in so many ways, unfit for the job in so many more. And yet God keeps introducing blessed people into my life who tell me a different story. That I am right where I belong. That He is still using me, using YOB, messy mistakes and all.

I don’t know what the rest of my “Jesus Year” holds or if it will be all that different from the past two. But I hope to find a more consistent rhythm for self-care beyond this single year.

A constant going to people; a constant withdrawing from them. A sacred ocean tide of ministry to others and ministry to self, the two coinciding as one.

May I find a little more support along the way. Or better realize the support already here and growing in my midst.

May I remain grateful for every lap on shore and every slinking back into the sea.