Gideon: Strength in Humble Service

I have heard that some ancient traditions believe our names are meant to guide our paths. Sometimes it is not clear where we will embody our purpose, or how we are meant to give meaning to the name we were given.

My name is Gideon Maate. Gideon—as in the biblical figure from the Book of Judges in the Old Testament. The one of whom it is written: “The angel of the Lord appeared to Gideon…hiding in a winepress, calling him a mighty warrior” (Judges 6:11–12). Yet, is it not overambitious to think we have the capacity to grasp the totality of what God meant by mighty warriorhood?

All I knew when I started my Field Education for my Master’s in Pastoral and Public Leadership at the Vancouver School of Theology was that I wanted to work with people who were experiencing vulnerability. Even before moving to Canada, I felt that was my call.

It was not my first time. Back in my hometown, I had previously worked as a social worker and teacher. This time, however, I felt called to serve in the Land that welcomed me. To walk alongside people experiencing hardship through homelessness, substance abuse, poverty, and mental health struggles in Vancouver. 

As I walked the streets of Downtown Eastside, I encountered an entirely different terrain of ministry—one in which trauma, addiction, and survival shaped every moment, and where pastoral care required not only compassion, but a holistic approach grounded in awareness, cultural humility, and a disciplined commitment to personal boundaries.

While sharing food, clothing, and prayer, and encountering intense—at times violent—reactions rooted in deep trauma, I began to realize that this experience was moving beyond simply attending to people’s immediate needs. It placed me in situations of unpredictability and risk, demanding a deeper form of presence and responsibility.

While navigating these challenges, I was touched by these words: “Pardon me, my lord,” Gideon replied, “but how can I save Israel?” (Judges 6:15). I, too, had doubts. Recurring challenges tested my emotional, spiritual, and professional resilience.

How was I meant to help this community?

“I will be with you, and you will strike down all the Midianites” (Judges 6:16), the Lord says to Gideon—reminding me that leaning into my faith can bring light amid hardship and that I, too, am beloved. Caring for others began with learning to care for myself, and I soon realized that when I am nourished and grounded in the Lord’s love, that love flows outward, guiding me to walk alongside others with trust, compassion, and patience—especially with those who carry deep wounds from trauma or discrimination.

I began to be transformed, inside and out. From my ability to respond in critical situations to the calm I discovered in acting from a deep love and presence. I started creating safe environments for others with consistent patience and authentic engagement. I assisted in unexpected crises and started witnessing ministry in its most practical and compassionate form, one that forged my pastoral identity and became a wellspring for learning how to be a truly compassionate and resilient leader.

Through this, I came to understand that my ministry was about walking alongside others and meeting them precisely where they were in their need. I now see my call as a reminder—to others and to myself—that we are all on a journey, doing the best we can, and that each of us is deserving of love, patience, respect, and dignity. A dignity that never fades, because it is inherent to who we are, and that invites us to embody and share God’s love.

I feel confident to say that walking alongside others is to attend to needs that recognize no color, religion, or gender—needs that remind us of our shared humanity. At our very human core, we are all seeking the same: to journey with hope, to discover meaning, and to be met with love. 

In this sense, ministry for me is no longer about providing quick solutions, but about being fully present in another person’s pain and story. In truth, being there for others taught me the value of listening before speaking, the importance of humble service, and the quiet power of God’s grace revealed through everyday acts of kindness.

Looking back on my growth as a practical servant leader, I recognize invaluable lessons from this journey. I have learned to guide by serving first—responding to real needs with humility and showing compassion through concrete actions rather than titles or words. I strive to listen deeply, honor the dignity of every person, and accompany them rather than trying to control, because I’ve understood that true leadership grows from presence, empathy, and shared responsibility. 

Despite my initial struggles, I have gathered the strength to not shy away from difficult or overlooked tasks, choosing instead to support others in their growth by demonstrating commitment through consistent and attentive care. In this way, I hope to keep building trust, nurturing communities, and leading with service, dignity, and compassion. 

I hope my experience serves as a gentle reminder: we are all walking different paths, believing in different ways, praying in different voices, feeling pain in our own rhythms, and responding to life’s trials uniquely. And yet, despite these differences, each of us is worthy not of judgment, but of dignity, compassion, and love.

I treasure in my heart the deep gratitude I feel for the people with whom I shared meals—lunches, dinners, and the prayers we lifted together. I am deeply thankful to Union Gospel Mission (UGM) in Vancouver for offering me this invaluable learning experience, and as I continue walking my path of service to others and the Lord, I carry in my heart the values and lessons I have gathered, remembering that we are all simply humans learning to be fully alive, and holding with gratitude the memory of those who have offered glimpses of what it means to lead with strength and humility, inspiring the Gideon I aspire to become.