The Pharisee Within Me

I was reminded yet again yesterday of some not so savory things respective to me.

I attended a workshop event related to ending domestic violence. I sensed the other participants made assumptions about my theology solely on the basis of my attendance. I heard differing views on who God is and what it will take for society to be transformed. At times I felt I somehow needed to defend God against relativism, though God doesn't need me or anyone to defend Him. He is His own defense. But I left feeling defensive for God.

Earlier in the week I saw our young neighbor stuff the dumpster with more refuse than the dumpster's capacity could bear. Ironically, a bear had proven this true be strewing said trash all over the parking area on Monday night . I was indignant as I swept up the mess Tuesday afternoon. Soon after I was convicted; I had not made enough effort to know our neighbor, a struggling single Mom. I was too consumed with my own comfort to recognize her need for unrequited friendship and support.

I am learning that intentional gospel missionality requires I dispose of my biases and the judgmental spirit I attempt to disavow but possess none the less. For if I am honest, the character/s I most identify with in the Bible are not the heroes of the faith, but the Pharisees who loved their religion more than people.

I spent Tuesday evening repenting of my Pharisaic attitude, and Wednesday morning preaching the gospel to myself. Jesus has not called me to plant a church filled with Pharisees led by a Pharisee. He has called me to plant a church filled with forgiven sinners led by a forgiven sinner following a forgiving Lord.

Big City Small Town

I spent Friday and Saturday with the Crimson Bears in Haines, Alaska. We went to the home of the Glacier Bears. (Picture a real life animal with silver fur and blue eyes. Based on the taxidermist's work mounted in a glass case I guess they really do exist.)

Haines is small town America, with Alaskan weather. Picture in your mind Half Moon Bay, or La Conner, or Carpinteria in the old days. Haines boasts the highest concentration of bald eagles in North America. Everybody (people, not necessarily eagles) knows everybody. It was Prom weekend, and it seemed the entire town was mobilized to provide a quality experience for the seniors and their dates. Haines is apparently well known throughout the region for their creative prom themes.

And I heard it said more than once, "Oh, you're from Juneau; the big city." Now according to me and my continental ways Juneau is a lot of things, but big she is not. But to folks living in Sitka, Ketchikan, Wrangell, Petersburg, Skagway or Haines, Juneau is the big city, with big city lights and big city energy. Juneau is where one goes for shopping, and for intensive medical care. Juneau is where one goes for a university education, and for employment. The other towns have cars; we have "traffic."

Juneau is not big, but Juneau is vitally strategic. Most if not all of the culture of Southeast Alaska passes through the filter that is Juneau. The other Southeast towns are dependent on Juneau. Maybe by choice; maybe not.

In starting up a new church in Juneau we cannot be limited in vision or scope to Juneau alone. We need to see what happens in Juneau as being vital and strategic to what could happen in other places in Southeast. We need to raise up leaders who will go and grow the church in other Southeast places, connected by vision and heart if not necessarily by timely travel.

If you want to see what a new church start up can look like, both the highs and lows, come our way. But if you want to see an impressive high school prom, go to Haines.

Juneau by Land, and Sea, and Air

Juneau is a beautiful city. In relation to some other Alaskan cities Juneau is considered a clean city...probably because the rain washes the grime away. Often.

Deb and I live five miles from anywhere we want to go in town. Juneau is like living on an island. You can't drive away from here. The roads just stop. Bad news for car thieves I suppose.

Juneau is also a city that knows transition. While once the Territorial Capital, Juneau became the Alaskan State Capital. This past week the State senators and representatives dropped the gavel for the final time on this year's legislative session, and quickly left town. By air, I presume. As mentioned, they can't drive away from here. And the commercial fishing fleet is now fully occupied on the local and distant waters. The people around town wearing the "Deadliest Catch" tee shirts are not the professionals.

This week, today in fact, Juneau transitions into tourist season. Over the course of the next five months over one million people will disembark from giant cruise ships to come ashore and buy things. Every shop in town is now open and eagerly ready for business. The Alaskan Brewery is responding with an innumerable count of new logo wear options.

It is a challenge for me to think through how to establish a new church in Juneau when our city is so transient. The rhythms of Juneau are pronounced and dramatic, and so very seasonal. We cannot have any tangible gospel impact in our city and culture unless we build that church on the basis of "missional communities," people willing to covenant together on mission to our transitory city. Missional communities, among other things will provide a family, a place to belong, a church, a home away from home even for those who do not reside in Juneau year round.

We'll have to get very used to, and even embrace the idea of serving and sharing our one hope in Jesus with people always in transition, as the seasons change.

Death by Assumption

I realized this week I mistakenly live by a set of concrete hard assumptions.

Just yesterday I had three different people tell me I had better enjoy summer, as summer is now. I've always assumed summer was June through August for school kids, or after July 5 through September (or some years not at any time) for the Pacific Northwest. But here in Southeast Alaska, summer happens in the spring, April and May. Not in the summer. (As a side note Australia's summer actually happens in the winter, but that's an entirely different matter.)

I've always assumed high school athletes anywhere initially resist the authority coaches hold over them. That assumption, at least here is wrong. These kids at JDHS do whatever we ask of them, after responding with "Yes, Coach!". Totally fakes me out.

I make assumptions about how my body will feel the day after a strenuous workout. Those assumptions are proving to be outdated...by about three decades or so.

I've had the misguided assumption people who love Jesus but are not currently connected with a church will be interested if not captivated by my starting a church (and my assumption of my own captivating personality) here in Juneau. This assumption has been challenged, (on both counts.) Not everyone is interested.

And my assumptions are challenged when someone I assume not interested shows interest in our church planting efforts. We're currently working to bring those interested people together.

I could die by my own assumptions. Or I could reassess my assumptions and leave a great deal more room for God to fake me out.

Time for Story

I took our dog for a walk yesterday morning. (Short dog with short legs makes for short walks, low to the snow she is.) I've noticed over the weeks a neighbor working with wood in front of his place during the daylight hours (which seem to gain an hour each week these days.) I finally went and made introductions and to see his ongoing project.

Jerry is a Tlingit (pronounced "Klin-git") native Alaskan, Raven clan. The Tlingit's and Haida's are the dominate tribal groups in Southeast Alaska, and make up between 15% and 22% of our population. Jerry is a single parent of a daughter away at college, and quite proud of her. Jerry works nights as a janitor, and by day is a wood carver; better yet - Jerry is an artist.

Jerry is making a canoe paddle. He told me he is still behind his schedule of making a paddle for each of his departed relatives. By his way of thinking relatives should be honored with a paddle, beautifully decorated. I thought to myself I honor my living relatives by picking up the phone...once every so often. Jerry brought out several of his finished paddles for me to admire.

Jerry told me stories. Jerry communicates with story. His native culture prizes story. We talked about our respective cultures, the strengths and weaknesses of each, and how those cultures sometimes collide. I realized I am a product of a fast-moving culture: West Coast car culture, keeping and meeting self-imposed deadlines, with an eye always on the clock. Jerry's culture is not in a rush; they take time to tell and hear story. Listening to story conveys respect. Jerry does not rush to complete his paddle projects. He told me the paddle is not complete until "the story has come out of it."

Jesus told stories. If I am here to communicate the changeless story of the gospel of Jesus to my new culture and context here in Juneau, I may have to slow down long enough to hear story as well.

Frontier Reality

It's not like everyone is necessarily thrilled when I tell them I'm here to plant (start) a church. And I can understand if a church person views me as a potential threat to their own church. Deb and I are here to start a church, not join a church. So when it came to Easter Sunday we didn't have any particular place to go.

When I was out walking the dog on what was the continuation of a string of stellar weather mornings I was experiencing an emotion, but couldn't define or describe it; until later in the day. I didn't feel sad per se; just missing something.

I didn't miss the planning and logistics necessary to pull off an Easter Sunday service. I didn't miss singing "Crown Him with Many Crowns" or "Up From the Grave He Arose" (though I did have those tunes in my head throughout the day.) I didn't miss wondering if new visitors would show up, if we would have enough food, our coffee decent, or if our church would double in size. I didn't even miss my feeble attempt/s to craft a Easter Sunday sermon that included the important stuff and made the important stuff clear.

What I missed...and it took me a while to get this...was gathering with the people of God. I missed the sense of covenant, and community, and shared lives. I missed the people at Soteria Church and other churches we have called family in years past. I realized again that our faith, our relationship with Jesus is intended by design to be experienced in concert with other people, in community, like family.

A reality of the frontier is that there is not necessarily a pile of people waiting for the frontiersman. If the early days of starting a church don't feel like isolation, those days do include a certain sense of free drift autonomy, like doing life apart from relational bearings. And the way God's designed me, all of us for that matter, is not for autonomy or isolation. We're designed to express our relationship with Jesus in the context of shared relationship with each other.

And in that I'm already looking forward to Easter next year.

Hunters - You are not Alone!

Juneau has 100 miles of roads and 250 miles of trails. The main thoroughfare runs bottom to top, east to west for 40 miles or so, and depending on where you may be is known as Egan Drive or Glacier Highway. Locals simply know it as "The Road." If you live north of Auke Bay you live "out the Road."
Along the Road at Mile 3, half a mile from our home is the Mendenhall Wetlands State Game Refuge. With Juneau's 15 foot plus tidal changes the Wetlands is (are?) well-named. Sometimes it's under water; sometime quite dry, as it was when Deb and I decided to check it out this past weekend. I made a point to pick up one of the informational brochures.

The brochure informs its reader that the "Mendenhall Wetlands are a mecca for waterfowl hunters, wildlife viewers and outdoor enthusiasts alike." In other words, people can be enthusiastically outside, watch birds, and then see those same birds fall from the sky like rocks.

This handy publication also reminds hunters that they are not alone. The refuge is "surrounded by residences, businesses and the Juneau Airport." Shooters are encouraged not to shoot toward any of these already inhabited structures. Sounds like a good safety tip.

This is where I know I live in a strange new land. All hunters are told they must obtain a waterfowl hunting permit. Check. "Hunters younger than 15 years of age must first complete a certified hunter safety course...unless they are accompanied by an adult." So if the kid completes the safety course he/she and his/her buddies can don the camo and the face paint, grab the shotgun and shells and (I assume) trusty bird dog, and get to stalking and killing their own game - while being mindful of nearby outdoor enthusiasts, bird watchers, residences, businesses and an international airport with associated flight path. My parents wouldn't have trusted me with a slingshot at age 18, and here we potentially have 13 year old's (or younger) legally empowered to hunt for subsistence or sport.

This is awesome!