A CHAT WITH...
REV FRANK RITCHIE
On his website, Reverend Frank Ritchie notes that he’s a “church minister, chaplain, media junkie, and lover of good conversation that gets past the small talk”. To this we might add another, rarer descriptor: professional Christian dude that thousands of atheists enjoy listening to. In a social media landscape awash with fury and foolishness, where outrage is frequently the chief currency, Ritchie’s Twitter commentary is thoughtful, compassionate, and wide-ranging. He reposts feminist, anti-racist content and research data on Covid and climate change alongside pithy snippets of scripture and justifiable mockery of the abomination that is the chocolate brioche hot cross bun. Ritchie specialises in media chaplaincy, offering support to journalists working in increasingly stressful environments. Now 45, this self-described “Jesus loving, scripture adoring evangelical” runs the Commoners Church in Hamilton, where he lives with his speech therapist wife and their 15-year-old daughter.
As told to Grant Smithies
Where did it all begin for you? I grew up around Waikato. My father left when I was a baby and my mother suffered from a number of mental illnesses. She hopped endlessly from church to church, so I experienced the whole gamut of Christian expression in New Zealand and there was some good stuff alongside some horrid stuff. I felt pretty angry about the whole thing. Years later, I was going out drinking hard with my mates and smoking dope on the weekends, and a friend suggested I read the Gospel of Luke, which is really focused on those in society at the bottom of the power ladder. I suddenly saw Jesus in a really different light. I walked into a church and have been committed ever since. Having experienced all facets of church life growing up, when it came time to take it seriously for myself, that whole Methodist Wesleyan history really appealed to me – the fight against the slave trade, the education of poor working children, the early missionaries here that worked on the Treaty of Waitangi.
Years later, I was going out drinking hard with my mates and smoking dope on the weekends, and a friend suggested I read the Gospel of Luke, which is really focussed on those in society at the bottom of the power ladder. I suddenly saw Jesus in a really different light.
Your social media presence is unusually measured and thoughtful, and the things you say online are often widely shared by non-religious people. About 0 of my 6500 followers on Twitter are not Christians. They’re a really diverse bunch, who think
quite differently from me, and each other, about a whole lot of things. Maybe they appreciate the fact that I don’t pretend to be anything that isn’t me. I try to stay curious and vulnerable and real. I’m on the same level as everyone else. Someone once said that a good Christian leader is like a beggar showing other beggars where the bread is. Also, I don’t feel the need to contribute to this growing climate of, I guess… rage. We share this planet together and I want the world to be a better, more harmonious place. I’m not interested in rhetoric that furthers a divide. I want to help find ways we can move forward together.
You also co-host a Sunday evening talkback show on Newstalk ZB. Talkback often seems a problematic format: the host says something provocative, which encourages the lonely, the angry and the bigoted to phone in and say more inflammatory things. Rinse and repeat. That’s a fair characterisation of some talkback. But I’ve loved talkback for many years because there’s a danger in my world of getting stuck in a Christian bubble and just listening to people who think like me. But like social media, talkback democratises opinion. It can be messy, because you’re not dealing with trained communicators, and it can be horrid, because sometimes it brings out the worst in us. But our show is very relaxed and nostalgic, and we like to have a laugh. I don’t try to spark up anger. I want to be a positive presence, rather than just perpetrate the culture wars between left and right.
That divide can be pretty deeply entrenched. Many liberals disdain Christian opinion in politics and public debate because it often seems to amplify conservatism. Yes, and that’s unfortunate. The culture wars in the United States have had far too much impact of how people over here see the relationship between Christians and non-Christians. All they see is a battleground. In reality, we just see the world differently, and we all have different gifts to bring to the table, if we’re willing to listen to each other and learn. Mutual respect is where we start.
Outside of your faith, what other things spin your wheels? I love photography. I’m a little too obsessed with different ways of making coffee. I love tramping. And I’m a terrible player, but I spend a lot of hours playing chess. I’m also having a crack at learning to play the kōauau, even though I’ve never mastered any musical instrument before. We’re in Aotearoa and there’s been a fantastic revival of taonga pūoro, traditional Māori instruments, in recent years. The kōauau really caught my attention. It seems to resonate deeply with this place and I feel it in my soul. I love that sound, like a deeply spiritual lament.