Servanthood and Public Education

This is finals week, the final week of the public school year. The kids and their instructors are well aware of the days, hours and perhaps minutes remaining. Risking the wrath of the District Superintendent, staff members are at their assigned posts. I am a substitute teacher, and my services are no longer needed. I've been rendered surplus to requirements.

It's been a fun year. I've enjoyed the role...and the freedom to say "no" from time to time. I had no idea I would be kept as busy as I've been. It helped over the course of the year to limit my availability to only one school. I got to know kids and staff by name, and they me. I learned to encourage (okay, bribe) better behavior on Fridays through the ingenious (in my estimation) addition of Jolly Ranchers. I know which kids require a fist-bump when passing in the hallways. I enjoyed being the self-appointed front door greeter to sleepy-faced students trudging to their lockers and on to their first class each morning.

Never having been a substitute teacher before this year, I learned or confirmed some things about myself. I'm a decent communicator. I am funny (at least I think I am.) I am flexible and roll somewhat well with the punches. I am better than good at making up answers to questions, especially when I may not even understand the question. I learned that students and adults both respond positively to a smile and some encouragement.

And I learned to use the word "serve" in complete sentences. "How can I serve you?" became a frequent element in my responses. Admittedly this freaked some people out, knowing the words (and concepts) of "servant" and "service" are not necessarily indigenous to, let alone valued by our culture. But I had selfish motivations for using these words in sentences. I did it for me.

I am not by nature a willing servant. Mine has been a life-long and still ongoing training in this endeavor. I am, by nature self-serving, self-indulgent and self-absorbed. But by using the word "serve" in a sentence it then requires me to do the verb and be the noun forms of the word, taking my own felt needs and selfish motivations out of the equation. And this is all necessary to the development of my gospel identity.

So somehow, and by God's grace TMHS has been my classroom. I've been instructed in the practicum of servanthood. I am grateful. I am looking forward to the next school year. In the meantime I'm really looking forward to summer break.

Church Planting in the Fog

There are those times when it seems life is being lived in a fog bank; stretches of time when duties are performed and obligations met, but with no real sense of the big picture.

Our past two weeks have felt fog bound. (Our bipolar SE Alaska weather only serves as a constant metaphor.) We've been busy. Perhaps too busy. Emotionally we've hit some exhilarating highs, but these felt sandwiched with soul-flattening lows. Sabbath rest has been hard to come by.

We went zip-lining 120 feet in the trees over an old gold mine a week ago. It was a rush, and a good break away from life at the usual altitude. We also endured the heartbreak of putting down our old but beloved family dog. In the days following we missed her, and even the inconveniences of dog ownership. (Dog owners get this. Non dog-owners don't.) With children grown and gone, Deb is feeling the loss of someone to nurture. (Not that I've gone anywhere, mind you.)

I've been subbing a lot; more than I expected and sometimes more than I wanted. But in the midst of the fog God has graced me with conversations shared with students and staff I never could have initiated on my own. I also worked as a timer for a regional championship track meet this past weekend. Bright sun on Friday. Driving rain on Saturday. It was good to serve, and I came home tired. I also had my first go at being a volunteer at the Visitor's Center Kiosk down by the cruise ship terminal on Wednesday. Talked with a good number of Australians. They're always fun. They called me "mate."

Admittedly though, I cannot say I've made a lot of "progress" in working "on" Radiant Church Juneau during this stretch. I didn't allow myself time, and had little to show. But in the midst of the fog I was given a gift. I was given a re-realization of what my calling is, and is not.

As church-planters, as Jesus-followers we are not called to make churches. I may be a church-planter, but I do not build the church. That role and responsibility is reserved for Jesus alone. What we are called to do is make disciples. Being and making disciples is what Jesus called His Church to be and do (Matthew 28:19).

With this as a new evaluative criterion I reviewed the past two weeks again. God is making disciples. He's making a disciple out of me. He's even gracing me with conversations and events and experiences where I can be a disciple-maker. Even in the fog.

Upon further review, it's been a good two weeks.