The Secret To Traveling Ministry
Lessons From My Father
A few years ago, my pastor, Joe Champion, shared an insight with me—one that his pastor, Moses Veigh, had imparted to him: when Christ gave gifts to the Church, it wasn’t just their talents or functions—He gave them the people themselves. In other words, the real gift isn’t what they do, it’s who they are—the full, embodied, flesh-and-blood experience of their presence, their quirks, their flaws, their particular way of existing in the world.
I’ve said this for years: the incarnation of Australian Pentecostalism, as it found its fullest expression in Brian Houston and his Hillsong empire, didn’t just impact the global Pentecostal and Evangelical church—it redefined it. And not just with a fresh vibe, but with a full-on cultural takeover, straight out of the land Down Under.
Because here’s the thing about Australians: they work twice as hard to stay relevant. It’s a geographical reality—being tucked away in the Pacific means you either innovate, or you become an afterthought. As a result, Aussies are twice as informed as your average Westerner. Pound for pound, they dress better. They eat better. They adapt faster. They take the culture by the reins and steer it before anyone else even realizes where it's headed.
Case in point? Americans were still channeling U2 in worship music when Hillsong started dropping congregational cocktails of Radiohead, Blink-182, and Coldplay. They surfed, skated, designed, and art-attacked their way into something entirely new. And let’s be real—if you lived on a remote island in the Pacific, you’d be hustling to stay relevant too. Beyond that, they just enjoyed life more than any group of Americans or Canadians I had ever met. There was an unapologetic, effortless joy to their approach, and that joy was contagious.
Incarnation matters.
I truly believe God picks people who will be a blessing to others. I can rattle off a dozen names of men who have been in my life—pastors, mentors, leaders—who were simply a joy to be around. They carried something intangible, something that wasn’t just about their gifts, but about their presence—their incarnation of grace, wisdom, humor, or sheer unfiltered charisma.
But there’s a dark side to this, too—one we’re all too familiar with: the self-anointed gifts who, over time, begin to believe that they are not just bearers of a gift but The Gift itself. And sure, maybe they are a gift. Maybe they do have something special.
But their hubris is the fly in the ointment.
And if I had to boil down what makes a traveling minister successful, thriving, and actually worth listening to, it would be one thing, above all else:
