By Derrick Brown (follow on Twitter @dbrowndbrown)
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Fine Fellowship vs. Formal Containment (Knowing Who Reads You and Why) (1676 Words)
(October 21-22, 2025)
By Derrick Brown (Join Our Mailing List!)
I. The Share
I decided to share two essays … both written as extensions of my journey toward peace and purpose … with two pastors who serve in different capacities at our church.
I had written Dear Hannah: LEarning (Reaching Out (Iron Men 10-5-2025)) and Dear Hannah: LEarning ("Fine Fellowship": A Grace-Based Approach to Growth) to capture the tension and tenderness that live in the same space when a person seeks to grow in grace … while navigating mistrust, containment, and calling.
I shared them because I believed they could provide clarity … context … and connection.
I did not share them to impress.
I shared them to express.
These essays document what I see, feel, and attempt to reconcile between faith, work, and creativity.
They are a testimony in progress.
What happened next revealed how the same words can produce different worlds … depending on who receives them and how they read.
II. Pastor #1 — Containment by Courtesy
The first recipient … Pastor #1 … is the newly installed youth pastor … “thirty-something” … gifted and energetic … but still finding his way within a structure that prizes hierarchy.
I approached him carefully … because I have lived long enough to know that “new” leadership often confuses initiative with insubordination.
I wanted to be seen as a servant … not a subject.
I wanted to share my heart without handing over my autonomy.
His reply began kindly.
“Thanks for sharing brother! I love your writing style! Very descriptive but not long-winded.”
The compliment was genuine but also calculated.
It softened what followed.
His next line changed the tone … “I can tell that you reflect and process best through writing. I love the approach for conversations and discipleship that you describe. I will count our conversation as your desire to continue on with serving.”
That one sentence reframed everything. My essays were not treated as insight … but as evidence.
He “counted” my creative offering as proof of compliance … as a sign of subordination.
My act of transparency became his administrative confirmation.
The next line reinforced the shift … “At some point, I will get some ink from you on the expectations just for the formality.”
The emphasis on “ink” and “formality” reminded me that he saw me as someone to be managed … not partnered.
I had offered testimony … and received a transaction.
Then came the question that completed the tone … “Also, will your wife be continuing to serve as well?”
The inclusion of my wife expanded the sphere of supervision.
What had begun as a conversation about spiritual formation had become a procedural checklist.
His decision to copy his “team” and the new senior pastor on his reply converted the entire exchange into an artifact of oversight.
What could have been private reflection became public documentation.
His response was not hostile.
It was administrative.
But that distinction matters little when administration replaces empathy.
I felt a familiar chill … the subtle tightening that comes when bureaucracy dresses itself in benevolence.
I was reminded of previous experiences with “containment” … where creative initiative was reinterpreted as potential disruption.
The language of “serving” replaced the language of fellowship.
I was no longer being read as an artist of faith … but as a worker whose passion required management.
III. Pastor #2 — Fellowship through Curiosity
On the same day … I shared the same essays with another pastor … Pastor #2 … who leads the 8 a.m. service and mentors young men each Wednesday.
I had long admired his calm presence and his ability to connect across generations.
I had seen him sit with young men … listen carefully … and respond with patience that resembled mentorship more than management.
When I explained that I would send him some of my writing, he received the offer warmly.
His written reply carried a different spirit entirely:
“Good afternoon, Derrick, thanks for sharing and we really need to get together and just chat. I am interested in many of the same things that you guys are doing. I am a musician as well and like to dabble in digital music creation in my home studio. I am looking to build a platform that provides digital content to our youth of today that puts God front and center. I am in the process of trying to complete my second Master’s degree in Biblical Counseling and an internship that I am doing with Liberty Church through Liberty University. I would love to just have an opportunity to hear your heart and see where we may be able to collaborate.”
His tone was conversational … self-revealing … and collaborative.
He was not merely acknowledging receipt … he was reciprocating reflection.
He was telling me who he was … what he was building … and why my writing resonated.
His mention of digital music confirmed that he had visited my blog.
He had seen the layers … the intersections between faith, art, and pedagogy.
He met me where I live.
This was “fine fellowship” in practice … two practitioners finding common ground through shared curiosity.
He did not request ink or impose expectations.
He invited dialogue.
He positioned himself as a learner too … mentioning his current degree and internship.
That disclosure communicated humility.
I read his email not as containment … but as connection.
IV. The Lesson Beneath the Language
The contrast between these two responses became a study in tone … power … and perception.
Pastor #1’s email felt like a memo.
Pastor #2’s email felt like a meeting of minds.
Both men are ministers … both speak the language of faith … but one writes like a manager and the other like a musician.
Tone is theology.
The first reply revealed a belief that leadership begins with control.
The second revealed a belief that leadership begins with listening.
The first invoked “expectations.”
The second invoked “collaboration.”
One communicated hierarchy.
The other communicated harmony.
Neither man was malicious … but their instincts diverged.
Pastor #1 wrote as though the purpose of communication was confirmation.
Pastor #2 wrote as though the purpose of communication was conversation.
Their responses exposed how organizational culture shapes spiritual tone.
I learned again that how a leader communicates is often more revealing than what he communicates.
Some leaders seek order more than understanding.
Others seek alignment more than authority.
One manages reflection through documentation … the other cultivates reflection through dialogue.
V. My Emotional Reading
When I read Pastor #1’s message, I felt the immediate tightening that comes when formality enters a space that had been sacred.
I could sense my internal guard rising.
His decision to copy the senior pastor confirmed that he saw himself as gatekeeper.
I felt myself shrinking into carefulness.
I reminded myself that courtesy can coexist with control.
When I read Pastor #2’s message, I felt the opposite.
My breathing slowed.
My guard lowered.
His tone invited rather than evaluated.
His curiosity mirrored my own.
I saw in him a fellow traveler who recognized that creativity and faith share the same rhythm.
His letter made me want to reply.
It reminded me why I write.
The contrast revealed the range of outcomes when art meets authority.
The same message … the same links … produced containment in one inbox … and curiosity in another.
This is why discernment matters.
Every reader brings an agenda.
Every reply reveals alignment or avoidance.
VI. Reading as Relationship
To share writing is to share self.
The reader becomes participant.
Pastor #1’s reading was evaluative … a search for procedural cues.
Pastor #2’s reading was immersive … a search for resonance.
One read my words for what they confirm.
The other read my words for what they mean.
This difference reminded me of my classroom.
Some students read assignments to finish.
Others read to find themselves.
Both complete the task … but only one grows.
The pastors’ replies mirrored that pattern.
Pastor #1 read to maintain order.
Pastor #2 read to discover opportunity.
Reading becomes a mirror.
When someone responds to your work, they reveal their interpretive posture … faith in structure or faith in relationship.
To share art is to conduct an experiment in trust.
I learned that lesson again this week.
VII. The Aftermath and the Awareness
Tonight, I will meet with Pastor #2 before youth service.
Pastor #1 will be preaching.
The scene itself carries symbolism … one voice proclaiming from the pulpit … another listening quietly in conversation.
Both roles matter … but I know where I belong.
I belong in the dialogue … in the place where learning breathes.
I am aware that I may need to navigate both spheres … the institutional and the interpersonal.
My task is not to judge … but to discern how much energy each deserves.
I cannot afford to confuse “fine fellowship” with “formal containment.”
One restores … the other restrains.
I will respond to both pastors with grace … but my gratitude will be weighted toward the one who met me as an equal.
Pastor #2 reminded me that peace grows where curiosity replaces control.
VIII. Closing Reflection
The experience of sharing these essays affirmed that writing is not only reflection … it is revelation.
It reveals who reads with open hands and who reads with closed fists.
It teaches me that my responsibility is to write clearly … share wisely … and interpret faithfully.
Pastor #1’s reply reminded me that oversight often travels with suspicion.
Pastor #2’s reply reminded me that fellowship can still find its voice.
Both letters belong to my story.
Both inform my next move.
I will continue to write.
I will continue to reach.
I will continue to learn what my words teach about the world around me.
I know now that the same message can be read as service or synergy … as compliance or calling.
My task is not to control interpretation … but to maintain integrity.
That is what fine fellowship requires … not uniformity, but honesty … not authority, but authenticity.
Selah.
(The "Follow The Leader (changED - Volume 2)" Audio and Video Album / Mixtape is also available at TeachersPayTeachers.com)
(The "changED (Volume 1)" Audio and Video Album / Mixtape is also available at TeachersPayTeachers.com)
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I am a “standup storyteller.”
I fuse rap, spoken word (poetry), oration (traditional public speaking), singing, and teaching into messages of hope, healing, and change that I write, direct, and produce to help people who help people.
Everything must change - and stay changED.
Tradition begins and ends with change.
Change begins with me and the renewing of my mind ... then continues through efforts to effect small-group discipleship (equipping others to equip others) with audiences that respect and embrace mentoring, mediation, and problem solving as tools of change.
I am the product of my mentoring relationships, peacemaking (and peacekeeping), and problem-solving ability.
My education began when I finished school.
After school, I enrolled in a lifelong curriculum that includes classes in ministry, entrepreneurship, stewardship, literacy, numeracy, language, self-identity, self-expression, and analysis / synthesis.
My projects execute a ministry that has evolved from wisdom earned through lessons learned.
I want to share this wisdom to build teams of "triple threat" fellows - mentors, mediators, and problem solvers.
We will collaborate in simple, powerful ways that allow us to help people who help people.
I now know that power is work done efficiently (with wise and skillful use of resources, interests, communication, and expertise).
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