By Jessie Leticia Ssuna

Working for a Christian organization for the first time has taught me that an organization can carry a Christian identity, but that identity is ultimately lived out through the people within it.

I’m learning, therefore, that a “Christian” organization is only as Christian as the people who operate within it. This has perhaps been one of my first and most important lessons.

Image: Jessie Sssuna

Entering this space meant encountering all shades of “Christian.” I soon realized sharing a Christian identity never always means everyone understands, practices, or expresses their faith the same way. Naturally, this has pushed me to have more gospel conversations at work in ways I never anticipated.

It has hit me that faith is no longer something I keep for Sunday or Bible study; my faith must also shape how I speak, respond, disagree, forgive, and work alongside people who may profess the same faith but see and live it differently.

Similarly, my mentorship role at work has also heightened my awareness of the responsibility to steward young minds that God has entrusted to me.

Mentoring with Christian conviction

James 3:1 reminds us that those who teach carry a greater responsibility, and although I would not describe my role strictly as that of a teacher, the weight of influence is something I cannot ignore. Young people I counsel are always watching, learning, questioning, and often testing boundaries.

My responsibility is therefore sharing wisdom and guiding them toward good decisions, while I watch the kind of person I am becoming in that role; this has been two-way.

As I attempt to guide and mentor young people, God is also sanctifying me through them. There is probably no one quite capable of testing your patience, self-control, and capacity for forgiveness like a teenager riding on growth hormones.

In those moments, I’m often reminded that forgiveness is not something I am called to offer only once. When Peter asked Jesus how many times he should forgive someone who sins against him, Jesus responded, “seventy-seven times” (Matthew 18:21–22). The point, for me, is not keeping count; it is learning to become someone whose posture is increasingly shaped by grace.

This has also challenged the way I see the students entrusted to me. I have had to learn to address sin, poor choices, and harmful behavior without allowing those things to become a person’s entire identity.

A student may lie, disrespect others, make irresponsible choices, or repeatedly test every ounce of patience I have, but that behavior should not become the whole story I tell about them.

The gospel reminds me that people are more than the worst thing they have done. Romans 5:8 reminds me that Christ’s love met us while we were still sinners. If I have received grace in the middle of my own shortcomings, then I must also learn to extend grace while still speaking truth.


Conflict and my Christ

Working in a Christian organization has also made me more aware that there are expectations attached to the identity we claim. There are societal expectations, certainly, but there is also the deeper question of whether our lives align with the values we profess. This can be uncomfortable because it is much easier to identify inconsistency in others than it is to recognize it in myself.

Perhaps this has become most evident in the area of conflict. Conflict resolution looks different to me now. I believe I have grown in being lovingly firm with people whose actions consistently contradict the Christian values they claim to hold. Loving someone does not always mean avoiding difficult conversations or pretending that harmful behavior does not matter. At times, love requires honesty.

Yet this realization has also exposed my own shortcomings. It is difficult to confront another person’s behavior without eventually becoming aware of my own pride, self-righteousness, impatience, and the ways I fall short too.

Jesus’ words about the log in my own eye have become an important reminder to me: before becoming overly concerned with the speck in someone else’s eye, I must be willing to examine myself (Matthew 7:3–5).

This does not mean ignoring the speck altogether. Instead, it means approaching others with humility, remembering that I am a work in progress too. It is through this kind of introspection that I believe I become better able to care for and address the struggles of my (student and staff) neighbor.

Grief at work

The gospel has also carried me through grief. Working in this environment has shaped how I view death and loss. The death of a staff member, and now, just this week, the death of a student, have confronted me with the fragility of life in ways that are difficult to put into words.

Grief does not become easier simply because one is a Christian. The loss is still painful, and the absence is still real. Yet the gospel gives grief a different context. As Paul writes, we do not grieve as those who have no hope (1 Thessalonians 4:13). That hope does not erase sorrow, but  allows sorrow and hope to exist together.

I believe that without the gospel, experiences of loss could easily leave me overwhelmed by the uncertainty and brevity of life. Instead, while grief remains painful, it has also caused me to look more carefully at the blessing of being alive and at the work before me.

Scripture has reminded me not to take life, relationships, or the opportunity to serve for granted. Even in loss, I find myself challenged to live more intentionally and to work more diligently with gratitude for what I have been given.

Looking back, I think working here has challenged many of my assumptions about what it means for a workplace to be “Christian.” I have learned that a Christian identity does not eliminate conflict, sin, grief, personality differences, or disappointment.

If anything, working in such an environment has sometimes made these realities more visible because of the expectations attached to the faith we profess. But it has also given me a space in which the gospel is continually brought into conversation with ordinary life.

The gospel has challenged me to speak truth more lovingly. It has consoled me in grief.  Encouraging me to keep serving when the work is difficult. It has reminded me that the young people I mentor are not projects to be fixed but people to be stewarded with care. And perhaps most importantly, it has continued to turn the mirror toward me.

I entered this role believing that I would be helping young people grow and make better decisions about their futures. I did not fully anticipate how much the role itself would expose me, challenge me, and require me to grow.

Yet perhaps that is part of the gift of this work. As I attempt to steward student lives and minds entrusted to me, God is also patiently continuing His work in me, teaching me patience, self-control, forgiveness, humility, and grace.

I am learning that working in a Christian organization does not mean working among perfect Christians. It means learning, sometimes imperfectly, what it looks like to live out the gospel among other imperfect people, including myself.

The writer is a human services professional and a career development advisor (career counselor) at The Amazima (Ministries) Schools.