Radiant

Deb and I relocated to Juneau, Alaska just over a year ago. Juneau has become home...and a vacation cruise destination for several of our continental friends. There are days when it all still seems so new, and other days when it feels like it's always been. We love being here.

I came to "plant" (start) a new church in Juneau. We have a small but growing band of people who now identify with us as a community on mission. One obstacle, I've been planting the Church with No Name. For what ever the reason (see below) I've wanted to be slow, cautious, thoughtful and prayerful about what to call this new thing. But a year is a bit of a while to go without a name, without an identity.

I have history with naming churches. I did so in 2005. What I really did was give a church a name that was difficult to pronounce, challenging to explain, and made us sound like a Latino fellowship. (Problem was, I only speak Taco Bell Spanish.) Admittedly I regretted our (my) name for this church within the first year. To their credit, and after Deb and I left town they changed the church's name. For the better, I might add. All this to say, I don't necessarily have the highest confidence in my ability to name a church. Naming our own children had the safeguard of being a group decision.

Planting a church is challenging enough. It has been statistically quoted that 80% of church plants fail within the first year; and 80% of those remaining fail within the second year. Not high odds. To attempt to plant a church isolated from relational connections and accountability and outside wisdom is playing recklessly with those already high odds. I came to realize we needed to be connected, associated with someone or something more established, but someone or something that loves and is invested in gospel mission to Alaska and the circumpolar north.

As Jesus-followers we revel in the knowledge we have been graciously adopted as children of the King. And now we've been adopted by another church. Radiant Church in Fairbanks is a church of gospel communities on intentional mission. In many ways they are what we want to be when we grow up. We want to share in their collective identity. Radiant is freely offering their resources, their intellectual capital, their friendship, their sacrifice and their hearts to us. We are not Radiant Church's first church plant, but we are Radiant Church's first church plant to take their name.

We now have an identity here in Juneau and Southeast Alaska. We are Radiant Church Juneau. And like Psalm 34:5 says, Those who look to him are radiant, and their faces shall never be ashamed. 

We are Radiant. With no Spanish language skills required.

Homegoing

Our neighbor, Gary died on Saturday. He had been bravely fighting cancer. Gary had served in Vietnam where he was exposed to Agent Orange.

Gary and his wife had been waiting, a long time waiting for confirmation that Gary would be eligible for V.A. benefits related to Agent Orange exposure. Gary had been concerned that he might die before this confirmation, concerned for his beloved wife's future without him.

Deb and I were called very early Saturday morning. Gary had endured a bad night. His lungs were filling with fluid, and he was struggling for each breath. It was my privilege to read Psalms to him, to pray for him, and to express the assurance of hope we have in Jesus to Gary's wife and sisters.

At 1:15 on Saturday afternoon Gary's wife received the phone call she had been waiting and hoping for. A number of people including one of Alaska's U.S. Senators had taken Gary's case on as a priority. As a result the V.A. had granted Gary the news he wanted to hear. And Gary took his last breath at 1:30.

Deb and I were called back and arrived at 1:35. Gary was gone, though his shell of a body remained. He was no longer in pain, no longer suffering, no longer worried for his wife.

It was my privilege to be present when Gary made a profession of faith in Jesus about a month ago. Gary had asked me over that day because he was concerned he had not done enough to get to heaven. I told him he was right. He hadn't done enough; nor had I; nor had anyone else. But it was my joy that day to explain to Gary that it wasn't and isn't ever about what we do, but about what Jesus has already done. Gary believed, and said so. And Gary is now home with the One who loved and loves him enough to have done through Jesus what Gary himself could not do. Enough to be enough.

God expressed His grace to Gary by releasing him from his suffering and calling him home, to really live. God expressed His grace to Gary's family by giving the encouragement of V.A. benefits; more importantly the profession of Gary's faith. And God expressed His grace to me by letting me be present, to celebrate Gary's homegoing.

Failure to Represent

I recently had an eight-day gig subbing in a high school biology class. I've had these classes and these students before. I know them and they know me, only to the extent a substitute teacher can know and be known. I've learned that being quick with a quip (and bribing them with Jolly Ranchers on Fridays) helps to get these kids on my wavelength. These kids seem to like anyone who likes them.

The biology teacher was called away to attend to family matters out of state. She had other things on her mind during her departure and absence. While normally very organized and a thoughtful planner, she did not leave behind teaching notes or a curriculum plan this time around. I was forced to fake it.

Trying to be resourceful I made contact with other science teachers in the school building. I also reached out (i.e. begged for help) to a biology-teaching friend in the Seattle area. I received help, resources and some empathy. I was able to advance the students through their textbook chapters. I helped them conduct two hands-on labs. I did assign homework due dates, but did not burden them with exams. I even had some school administrators ask if they should remove the word "substitute" from my ID badge, though I'm not sure how that would have helped. A coffee cup and an assigned parking space would be nice.

But over the course of those eight days I experienced a downturn. I found myself wearing my self-pity like a blanket. I was resentful over not having enough time to work on "my" church plant, though admittedly this was all of my own doing. I was resentful my assignment required so much prep time. I was resentful over not having enough time to eat lunch.

And I blew it. I revealed my self-pity to too many people; and revealing this to even one person was one person too many. Instead of representing my King with optimism, flexibility, patience and the altruism only a child of the King can display, I instead displayed a primary concern for self, like any idol-worshipper who sees himself as the center of his own universe.

I failed to represent. And I came to realize this when staff people started asking me if "I was okay." And I was humbled. And I repented to my King. And I was reminded again that being a pastor (okay, being a Christ-follower) requires a commitment to grace even when not on the pastoral clock. And I learned again - I need the gospel preached to my own heart - every day.

(thanks, Pat Costello for the cool photo)