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QUESTION #1: ACQUAINT

There’s much more to food than palate and preference. How does a go-to meal at your favorite hometown restaurant reveal the true you behind the web bio?

When I was pastoring in Surrey, B.C., our staff used to frequent one particular casual dining restaurant. We loved it — great food and great people with lots of space for us to talk shop and dream about the future of the church.

But one day, a very, very beautiful waitress got hired and took a shine to our senior pastor. He was a dignified older gentleman (and also my father), and he became deeply embarrassed by her attentions. The waitress mistook his embarrassment for flattery and wouldn’t leave him alone — to the point that we had to stop going there altogether.

Whenever I visit home, I always go to this restaurant and start laughing uncontrollably. I tell everyone the story about how my dad didn’t know how to get out of the situation, and we never stopped teasing him about it. He passed away in 2020 from pancreatic cancer, so the memory of his red-faced discomfort is especially sweet.

It’s funny, because I always think of Vancouver as home, but Surrey is where I grew up and cut my teeth in ministry. Surrey — in the 1990s — was always a place you wanted to leave, but now when I go home, all my fondest memories are from there and not from Van. It’s like Vancouver is a magnet, but I’m just driftwood making up part of Surrey’s flotsam.

QUESTION #2: REVEAL

We’ve all got quirky proclivities and out-of-the-way interests. So what are yours? What so-called “nonspiritual” activity (or activities) do you love engaging in, which also help you find essential spiritual renewal?

Every four years, I become an absolute maniac for the Rugby World Cup. In between World Cup years, I might watch the occasional game (or flirt with the NHL or the NFL), but when the RWC happens, I watch every game, regardless of whatever ungodly hour it’s being broadcast.

I played rugby in college, and my rugby teammates taught me more about brotherhood than any church group or Bible study.

Rugby (for those who don’t know) is a sport that pits very large players against very small players with remarkable violence and velocity. That’s the fun! But with only one referee for 30 players on the pitch, it’s easy for things to get out of hand.

On our team, we had a rule: If someone hits you with a cheap shot, you turn the other cheek; but if someone hits one of your brothers, you are morally obligated to step in and defend them. It seemed so strange to me at first, but the first time I turned the other cheek and had one of my mates defend me was the first time I truly felt like I wasn’t alone. Someone was always going to have my back. Someone was always watching out for me. I had the freedom to restrain my aggression — but only because I knew others’ aggression toward me would not be tolerated.

When the Rugby World Cup is on, I remember all those great moments with my team. I remember somebody somewhere still has my back (even if it’s only every four years).

QUESTION #3: CONFESS

Every superhero has a weakness. Every human, too. We’re just good at faking it. But who are we kidding? We’re broken and in this thing together. So what’s your kryptonite, and how do you hide it?

I broke my neck several years ago, but — strangely — it took several months before it was diagnosed. I was pastoring at the time and working two additional full-time jobs (one to make ends meet for our family and the other to generate funds that allowed me to launch the Fossores Chapter House). I was exhausted. I was hurting. I was confused. I was in excruciating pain.

I began to drink and take pills to cope. But it was murder trying to stay ahead of the pain. I broke my neck in July, but it was November before I finally saw the results of my MRI and was told I needed emergency surgery. So for five months, I lived in agony. In hindsight, I should’ve gone to the ER and never left, but I was operating under some misguided notion that my medical team would guide me toward healthy treatment. They didn’t. Not even close.

By mid-August I was drinking a fifth of vodka every day before lunch and downing an entire bottle of Advil (84 pills per bottle, in case anyone’s wondering). I desperately needed a reprieve from work, especially from pastoring. I was barely functioning but didn’t feel as though we had the right people in place to lead in my absence. I look back on that season in disgrace.

Of moral failures, I am chief.

When the surgeon told me I needed surgery as soon as possible, I agreed. But the problem was that the surgery had a six-week recovery time. I declined the first possible date because it was December 15, and for pastors, that’s the Super Bowl. I couldn’t leave my church at Christmas, knowing how many people would be coming to us for hope and healing during the holidays (a source of pain for so many). Instead, I waited until Valentine’s Day for my surgery. When the anesthesia wore off, I knew I was fixed.

So what’s my kryptonite?

A massively over-functioning ego that forces me to believe I’m far more important than I really am. I hide that ego behind liquor and cigars, although anyone who spends time with me knows I’m really, really bad at hiding.

QUESTION #4: FIRE UP

Tell us about your toil. How are you investing your professional time right now? What’s your current obsession? And why should it be ours?

I’ve been hustling to launch the Fossores Chapter House — a retreat center for creative pastors. I love it! It’s the most rewarding work of my life and I simply cannot get enough of the people and the adventures the House affords.

But I’m also a student, a researcher and a nerd, so I sneak time daily to ravenously devour all sorts of theology, philosophy and psychology.

Right now, that obsessiveness is focused on the overlap between physicality and spirituality, because I’m tired of all the empty ways Christians talk about their body being “a temple.”

It’s more (with all due respect to the apostle Paul).

When you think about it, your body is all there is. It’s you. Your body isn’t something you have, it’s something you are. And though we’re made to understand there will be a brief time we are bodiless, the long-term destiny of Christian people climaxes in new, resurrected bodies. Your body shows the world who you are. It reveals your choices, your priorities, your aesthetics, your history, your loves and your fundamental beliefs about what’s important. Your body is powerfully capable of demonstrating love and mercy to others, whether through kind words or generous activity. Your body is a gift you get to share, and when you entrust another with your body, you are presenting them with the holiest part of your true self.

My current fascination with somatic spirituality (as I call it) has led to some very healing conversations with those struggling with their body image, body shame and self-loathing. I think there’s more to uncover on the topic, so I imagine I’ll keep digging around for a while (and probably head to the gym a few extra times just for kicks).

QUESTION #5: BOOST

Cashiers, CEOs, contractors, or customer service reps, we all need grace flowing into us and back out into the world. How does the Holy Spirit invigorate your work? And how do you know it’s God when it happens?

I don’t think the Holy Spirit does invigorate my work — at least not in the way you’ve described. I’ve never had the sense that something was sufficiently divinely infused to set it apart from all that I do. In fact, I think every moment is about as super lightning special as it can be without God’s involvement. Because God’s never not involved. God’s always in it, but God’s never been “in it” in a peculiar way. Not for me.

I know God is supposed to fire me up, to bring together worlds of wonder and imagination, but my guess is that God isn’t all that interested in helping me do the things I’m going to do regardless. And I’m not trying to be cute or clever — I truly don’t think God has ever supercharged anything I’ve ever done. Ever.

It’s possible I’m unaware of God’s involvement, but I used to yearn for that divine touch. That ignition. That catalyst. That moment of the miraculous. I spent decades yearning for it, only to realize that — at some point — I was done waiting for God. I think God was waiting for me to wake up to the life that I had and the work that I love and give myself over to it with joy and enthusiasm. So I have! And it’s amazing! And I feel like God is with me and watching me and cheering me on. But Jesus never takes the wheel. When I let go, God wonders why.

QUESTION #6: inspire

Scripture and tradition beckon us into the rich and varied habits that open our hearts to the presence of God. So let us in. Which spiritual practice is working best for you right now?

I’m fully vested in the spiritual practice of refusing to participate in b——.

I choose not to make myself cry or feign emotionality when the worship leader is pleading for it.

I choose not to identify with my wounds or my suffering when the therapist is guiding me toward it.

I choose not to falsify my enjoyment of ancient spiritual practices when they offer little clarity or transformation.

I choose not to do all these things because I used to be really, really nice. I actually thought niceness was a fruit of the Spirit. I thought if I was nice, people would support my ministry, become Christians, celebrate my creativity, come to my events, be my friends and never betray me.

I was wrong.

I tried so very hard to be the perfect Christian and the perfect pastor — and I came really close. But it didn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. Someone smart once told me, “In this world, you will have trouble” (see John 16:33), and my niceness never spared me from a lick of it.

Now, when someone wants me to get caught up in the emotion of a moment, I politely decline — or fully participate if I am genuinely affected. But I’m not going to go along to get along any longer.

Now, when someone wants me to open up about my pain, I might — but only to accept my own shortcomings, failures and wrongdoing. It’s never helped me to blame others for anything.

Now, when someone wants to do Lectio Divina or the Examen or the Jesus Prayer — great! Go for it. I just know that there are only a few special times those practices have been meaningful for me (and, trust me, I’ve put in the hours).

So my best spiritual discipline is telling the truth about what matters, what helps and what heals. The rest is b——.

QUESTION #7: FOCUS

Looking backward, considering the full sweep of your unique faith journey and all you encountered along the way, what top-three resources stand out to you? What changed the game and changed your heart?

I’ve been deeply affected by so many wonderful books and brilliant leaders — most notably Leonard Sweet, whose books and advances have been more formative on my life than any other influence outside of my father. But if I had to list three essential resources that altered my course I’d select:

1. “Virtual Faith: The Irreverent Spiritual Quest of Gen X” by Tom Beaudoin. When this book came out, Gen X was a cuss word in evangelicalism (much like Gen Z is today). Beaudoin was the first writer who exegeted our culture and found sacraments embedded in our tattoos and body piercings, who noted prayers in our music and liturgy in our festivals. Many others came to the same conclusions, but Tom Beaudoin got there first and gave me language for how to faithfully worship a God he didn’t believe in.

2. “Connecting Flights” by Robert LePage. LePage is a French-Canadian performance artist who was once heavily involved with the Cirque du Soleil and Peter Gabriel. His unique style involves breaking down the fourth wall through creative use of media and material props. He’s a genius, and much of the tired creativity in the church today could be — at least partially — remedied by studying LePage.

3. “Hi Ren,” a YouTube video by Ren Gill. Alright, this one’s a cheater’s answer because it certainly hasn’t formed who I am today, but I hope that will form who I become tomorrow. It’s brilliant. Stop whatever you’re doing and watch!

We all have things we cling to to survive (or even thrive) in tough times — times like these! Name one resource you’re savoring and/or finding indispensable in this current season, and tell us what it’s doing for you.

I can’t get enough of Ecclesiastes. I like to pretend it was written by Kurt Cobain. As a love letter to Leonard Cohen. Then filmed by the Cohen Brothers. And shown in a dark theater for Quentin Tarantino.

It’s so good.

I’ve taught through the book four times — more than any other book in the Bible — and every time, I’ve taken a fresh approach.

My favorite journey through Ecclesiastes involved an art project. We printed the text of the book on transparencies and stuck them to a large, 20x20 table we made out of shop lights. Then we invited our church to make notes in the margins of the book, week after week, as we taught through it. In the end, Ecclesiastes midrash was a potent reminder of all God revealed through the series.

Most recently, Ecclesiastes gave me a more honest way to pray.

When I left local church ministry in 2021, I was deeply concerned for the future of my former congregation. My departure had been healthy, but the interim had turned ugly. Ecclesiastes was my guide. “I hated my labor because I was forced to leave it to a man who would come after me, and who knows whether he will be wise or a fool?”

I read the entire book every day for nearly six months. It’s my Book of Common Prayer.

QUESTION #8: dream

God is continually stirring new things in each of us. So give us the scoop! What’s beginning to stir in you but not yet fully awakened? What can we expect from you in the future?

I have been working on a weird Western fantasy novel since 2013. It’s so fun! Currently, the 14th version of this story is approximately 600,000 words, so it needs a little trim. And it’s vulgar, crass and ungodly, so my mum will never be allowed to read it. And the conflation of angelology, mythology, semiotics and space is a bit much, so it’s definitely not a crowd-pleaser.

But I began writing the story to process my frustration with church ministry. In essence, I wanted to know how we’re meant to offer hope and healing to others without losing it ourselves. I wanted to know how to offer freedom without becoming imprisoned by the church. I wanted to know how to share the same ends without resorting to the same means. So I wrote this story, about a Peacebringer charged with liberating a small town from a despotic Mayor.

Here’s the first line: “The Missionary cut another sliver from his skin and fed it to the cannibal.”

I don’t imagine anyone will ever read “When the Last Bloodied Knuckles Shake Hands, “but the idea of a missionary slowly feeding himself to the people he’s trying to save rings true, doesn’t it? And the love of a lawman for a corrupt town has a certain ministerial poetry to it, right?

But it’s tricky to sell a novel in which heaven loses, the plot drifts and the hero spoils, so I’ll probably just see what new Amish romance novels come out next month and recommend those instead.

Ministry can be tough. Brutal, even.

Whether you’re a pastor caring for a local congregation, a missionary trying to share the Good News, a friend mentoring a new believer, or a parent tending to a fussy child, ministry is messy.

In hard moments, when we feel like it’s pointless or that God has forgotten our work, may we remember that Jesus’ words aren’t just for those under our care — they’re for us, too.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:28-30, NIV).

Dr. David McDonald is the founder of the Fossores Chapter House, where he works to enliven the dreams of preachers, leaders and innovators. He was awarded the first-ever post-doctoral fellowship at Portland Seminary, and his work has been featured in The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal and TIMEmagazine. David’s latest book, Heirs of Eden, details a biblical defense for how God guides us through our passions, desires and noble ambitions to heal the world.

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