Thoughts on Walking into a Closed Door

Last night I thought I was helpful. My wife even thanked me for the "wisdom" I had dispensed on her behalf. Then it happened. I proved otherwise.

While grilling salmon outside on the deck I intended to go back inside to fetch something. In doing so I proceeded to walk into the glass slider door that was already closed. (Previously, I thought only dogs did that!) I smooshed my face and crunched my hand. I deposited my beverage all over the slider glass, and myself, nearly smashing my beverage container in the process. Epic fail. At that moment any self-applause I harbored in response to my previously dispensed "wisdom" was eliminated from the clutter in my brain. My wife is gracious. We had a good laugh. At my expense. Well deserved.

On another but related note, religious people are taught to believe that their most recent thought or action determines who they are, the status of their position or status in relation to God. (And if that's true, last night I positioned myself in God's eyes as the village idiot.) It's no wonder other people see religious people as dictated by a long list of "do's" and "don'ts." It's as if the goal of religious affiliation and activity is to become a "good person." Religion, therefore is viewed by our wider culture as being no more than a lifelong quest for "morality." Problem #1 is, one person's morality is someone else's immorality. Problem #2 is, no one is truly moral.

However, religion and the gospel are not the same thing. Religion is mankind's idea, while the gospel is God's. Religion says, "do the right things." The gospel says, "Done!"

How can that be?

My standing as a Christ-follower is not based on how well I adhere to the "do's and don'ts list." Good thing, since I'm just seconds away from my next epic fail. Instead, the gospel tells me that my standing isn't predicated on my behavior, it's based on Jesus' accomplishment. In what Martin Luther called the "Great Exchange" Jesus took my sin to the cross, and in exchange gave me his standing before God. Not based on what I do, but on what Jesus already did. This is undeserved; the very definition of grace.

Freedom for me is found in not having to please God for my worth, standing or future. He's already pleased with me solely because He's pleased with Jesus. I am now free to abandon my own false sense of propriety, my own conjectures of morality, and even my score on the "do's and don'ts list." I'm free to love and serve because I'm freed from having to earn and self-justify. I am freed from hoping other people will see me as wise, and freed to follow after the truly wise One.

Even when I'm attempting to walk through closed doors.

Before I die...

"The report of my death was an exaggeration" said Mark Twain. Same would be true of me, as this is no posthumous announcement. But I did notice something rather interesting in downtown Juneau the other day.


A large, multi-panel chalkboard has been set up, just down the street from the State Capitol Building with the words "Before I Die..." and then spaces for folks to fill in the blanks with their hopes and dreams for their remaining days. Maybe it's just performance art. But it was enough to stop my car, illegally mind you, and give it a look over.

For sure, there was the expected assortment of inane, juvenile statements that included sexual conquest, self-medication, unicorns and leaping tall buildings. We are Alaska, but not immune to dumb thinking. I also read responses that had more to do with general good will, peace between nations and stopping to appreciate the little things in life, albeit with my addendum that nothing in Alaska is little.

With my car continuing in its illegal placement I read the rich variety of responses. And this got me thinking: Before I die, what do I wish for?

The previous evening I attended an organizational meeting for Young Life, and I was blessed with how the people there represented a wide number of local churches. But we were on the same page with the same priority - new gospel life for students in our city. Before I die I would love to see the churches in our city unified in relationship and shared mission. That would be witness on a big scale!

The Tuesday morning before I gathered again with our Porterbrook fellas. (It's like seminary training, but I don't tell them that.) These fellas come from several churches, and are looking to learn in order to lead. Before I die I want to see a cadre of men rise up to humbly and effectively lead in their homes and churches and start up new churches throughout Southeast Alaska.

Deb and I visited a church on Saturday (!) evening. They were as friendly and welcoming as a church could possibly be. Before I die I want to see my own gospel witness and proclamation, and that of Radiant Church Juneau be welcoming, and not condemnatory. 

Before I die I want to insure that my wife knows she couldn't possibly be more adored than she is by her husband. Before I die I want my children to know their father is fully engaged and immensely proud of them. Before I die I want to see Radiant Church Juneau be a radiant expression of the gospel to our city.

No, I didn't add my wishes to the downtown Before I Die board. Instead, I asked God to write them on my own heart. That way, I'll be less tempted to settle for lesser wishes.

Love the City

Summer ended. In one day. Thursday, August 15 the sun was replaced with dark rain clouds, the temperatures plummeted, spawning salmon began filling our streams and our version of "fall" was initiated. The first half of summer revolved around our own travel adventures. The second half of summer (now fall) has been consumed with hospitality and tour guiding.

We've enjoyed visits from family and friends, most of whom have been in Juneau for only hours at a time while in port with their cruise ships. Sometimes we've had eight hours, other times maybe ten hours to show our city off to our visitors. Kind of like speed-dating.

In just the past two days alone we have included the glacier and bear sightings, Nugget Falls, the Tram and its views, shopping downtown, the Valley, our living room, the Hangar, the Island Pub, St. Therese, Eagle Beach, UAS, TMHS and lots of potential Christmas card photos taken. It's been a whirlwind. It's been fun.

Our visitors have each asked, "Why Juneau?" After an hour or two they answer their own question, and find themselves loving our city as we love our city. Juneau is not hard to love. Rain clouds or not.

It's been said, people in Juneau either love it here...or they're planning to move away. There is no in between. We love it here. We love talking about our city. Loving our city is vital.

A church cannot really be the Church if that church does not love their city, and the people in their city. A church can only really be the Church when it is willing, even joyful to engage the culture. Too many churches in too many places have settled for church as safe zone, as separation, as protection and isolation from the culture. But that's not what the Church was called to be and do.

Without gospel compromise Radiant Church lives in light of the mandate to be enthusiastic and engaged with our city. We are "Radiant Church Juneau," and the "Juneau" part is important. We are called to love this city, our city in tangible and intangible ways, in gospel ways, and this forces involvement as well as placement.

Functioning as host and self-proclaimed tour guide reminds me that I love my city, that I need to love my city. Our city, and every city needs gospel-centered people who will love their cities; enough to talk about their city, and to their city.

Seasonal Order

Like everyone else in Alaska we have enjoyed the "all-time greatest summer ever." Deb and I have now been here in Juneau for two summer seasons; the first one didn't happen; this one has been glorious. Fact remains, we still don't know what a "normal" summer is up here. (Sadly, a long-timer recently told me that last year's summer is more the norm.)

In the course of enjoying summer I've leaned to hold things (like plans, expectations, hopes and dreams) with loose fingers. Few church-planters view summer as high momentum time. We are no exception.

In the summer months church "growth" can seem to move at glacier pace. (My analogy breaks down if one considers a retreating glacier. I didn't mean that kind of glacier. That would be bad.)

However, and often in spite of my efforts, Jesus continues to build His church. He did promise He would do just that. We have seen our initial gospel community grow in family roles, skills and graces. We are becoming increasingly intimate, honest and transparent. We are learning how to serve each other in tangible and intangible ways. (Note: I am now quite versed in airport deliveries and pick ups.)

We have been blessed with many more relationships in the city, and opportunities to volunteer and serve
continue to multiply. We are collectively excited over the prospect of new gospel communities forming on the UAS campus, and another downtown. Deb and I are amassing a long list of people we look forward to having in our home. And Deb's school year at UAS and mine at TMHS are now upon us. So is the rain!

Fall came. Today. With the rain. Unlike the dark clouds and gray skies (and the new requirement to wear shoes and socks) Radiant Church Juneau enters a season of growth. We look forward to growing together in community, as family. We look forward to growing as a gospel influence and manifestation in our city and region.

Kind of like spring. Which also didn't happen last year, or the year before. (Again, my analogy breaks down.)

Gettin' Out

It's been more than a calendar year since we "got out" (Alaskan for getting out of Alaska.) It's true we got out last summer, for our children's weddings, which were totally fun, but not necessarily vacation in a vacation sort of way. Last year we stayed close to home and enjoyed Alaska's version of summer weather. An oxymoron. We had no summer in 2012.

But this year we did get out, and embarked on our big trip of the year. We first went to Newport Beach, CA for two conferences held back to back at the same hotel, involving a lot of the same people. We enjoyed summer weather, reconnected with old friends, learned a lot, stayed up late, and Deb enjoyed some good old fashioned Southern California mall shopping. I watched my wife decompress before my eyes. And we got to see a full-on Bollywood wedding at the hotel. (It's just what you think it is, by the way.) Oh, and I got food poisoning, but that doesn't bear comment (even though I just commented.)

After five days we left the "OC" for Reno, NV (by way of Phoenix, which last I checked is not on the way) to connect with our daughter and son-in-law in Lake Tahoe. We had not seen them in six months. Reno was burning up, but Tahoe was perfect as Tahoe most always is. We went to the beaches, learned about boat motors (where oil and water still do not mix), did a little stand up paddle boarding, ate like kings and queens, played surrogate parents to one rambunctious retriever puppy and thoroughly enjoyed our children's company. I was blessed to share a deep, gospel-centered conversation with a friend of thirty years. Our time there was glorious.

Four days later we made our way to Bellingham (by way of Seattle, which is on the way) and subsequently to Lynden where we moved in with our son and daughter-in-law and their two young men in training. I hadn't seen them since their wedding day almost a year ago. Together we enjoyed lazy evenings in the backyard, played a little badminton and went out to dinner where we were blessed with a quick drop-in visit from a dear friend representing her dear family. Our time with those Rydman's was equally glorious.

We were and are reminded that Alaska is a long way from our children. Fact is, Alaska is a long way from just about everything. Even as empty-nesters now somewhat experienced, we are increasingly aware of the realities of distance parenting. I still write letters to both young couples each Monday; we still talk on the phone with the daughter (frequently) and the son (less so) and make due with what it is. We are so proud of our children, all four of them now. We live a long way away. We're even separated by a foreign country.

But our children are called, respectively to be where they are, and we are called to be where we are. Sometimes we just wish we were all called to the same place.

They would like Alaska.

In the Eye of a Tornado, or was it a Hurricane?

I've never been in a tornado. Being a lifelong resident of the West Coast I've seen some weather, even Alaska's bipolar variety, but I've never even seen a twister. I was in Indianapolis once, and when the siren sounded I had to ask what that alarm was all about. I have friends whose lives have been affected by tornados, and others who are now quite experienced giving aid to tornado victims, but I've never experienced either.

Back when I was a kid in church I remember hearing a visiting missionary telling us what it was like to endure a tornado. Maybe it was a hurricane. I don't remember the details, but I do remember this one bit; there was a strange calm in the "middle" or the "eye" of the storm. Somehow, at halftime there was a brief respite, a momentary calm before the second round of lashings commenced. Now that I think about it, it probably was a hurricane.

Perhaps, if my metaphor has any merit, I am in one of those calm halftimes. The school year ended, so did my substitute teaching assignments. I have more discretionary time on my hands. Deb will soon go "off contract" for a month, and in the meantime with no students on campus her work world has regained some civility. We are again enjoying regular "Sabbath rest," irrespective of the day of the week. The frequency of our evening walks in the marina has increased.

But around us swirls the tornado (or hurricane.) Friends in vocational ministry are exhausted by people issues in their churches; here in Juneau we are seeing many of our friends enter a season of transition. (It's been said people here either love Juneau, or are planning to leave.) Several churches in our own city are in leadership transitions, or even denominational transitions; even our own initial gospel community is preparing to see some of our own depart for worlds south of here.

Yet in this I am enjoying a season of calm. My times in God's Word have been sweet and profound. The glorious recent weather has forced me outdoors to improve my cardio health. I have enjoyed deep time with old and new friends. My soul is at rest (Jeremiah 6:16.) It feels like I am being re-filled, topped off, knowing the days of giving if not draining are not far off.

Storms will come back to Southeast Alaska. They always do. Starting and leading a church comes with seasonal storms. It's how it goes. How blessed I am to be given calm between storms.

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.