Pride and partisanship

Damn my pride.

On Friday some people I knew from Melbourne came with their band to play at my school as a way of Christian outreach. I didn't know they were going to be there until they asked to borrow a table while I was taking an English 'extra' (that is a class I don't normally teach). As I had the period off after that, I went to chat with them as they set up. They were equally surprised to see me there, as they weren't people I saw a lot of while I was living in Melbourne, and didn't know I had moved up here.

So there were the usual questions of how long I had been up here, what was I doing, how did I feel about it, what church I was involved with, what did I think about living up here, etc...

As I answered, pride was telling me to paint a glowing picture of what I was doing, to highlight the positives, to make it sound like I was being successful in a 'christian way'. Maybe to excuse my behaviour, I thought they wanted to hear positive things about what I was up to, to hear I was doing well - as if it would disappoint them if I didn't have positives things to say.

Later that night, when I started talking to someone else in Christian ministry, I felt again the need to say what I was doing 'Christian ministry-wise' (though less so).

I didn't lie about anything, but I don't think I conveyed enough of the reality of what I was experiencing right now... the slow progress, the intentional low-key and less overt approach I take, and a focus on longer-term fruit (not the shallow fruit evident at present). Yes, I am doing a lot at present, and my intentions and efforts on one level have had successes, but they are not the results I put my faith in...

I was in Melbourne last weekend, and got to catch up with my brother Sonny who is a music teacher at Melbourne High. He expressed how studying his diploma of education by correspondence was slowing his progress in getting to know all his students, and how it was his goal to know all the students in the school individually. To be effective in his teaching, he believed he needed to achieve this.

This goal is much more ambitious than I've set myself for my school (which incidentally has less students than his), and yet on one level, should be a high priority for me in terms of the purpose of why I am at this school. It was a reminder of maybe how low I've set goals so far.

School preparation still seems to take a fair chunk of my time.

And I still find it hard to instantly recognise by name all my current students, and only remember as individuals by name some of my previous students. I've made excuses in my mind for the low priority this has - in the same way, I don't know a fair number by name of those in the indigenous Christian community I'm a part of nor even all the staff of my school.

At this stage, I'm going by the notion that it is more important for the students and the Christian communities I'm involved with to feel like I belong to them and they feel they know me, rather than for me to feel I like I belong with them and know them. I'm succeeding in the former, but my brother's aims highlighted the need to achieve the latter stuff if I am going to be 'real' about my own efforts.

I suppose it boils down again to: who am I really here for? and how many do I really focus on?

It's hailing outside. There's the shrill roar of thousands of small ice balls hitting my roof. I like watching them bounce around as they land. There are so many of them - you can concentrate on a few, seeing their little dances, or have a more global view where the multitude of them creates a different spectacle, like someone unfurling a bed-sheet of dancing particles out over the mattress that is my front yard.

For a while, I've decided the best way for me to work is with a small handful of individuals. I'm leaving the global views to others - though occasionally will provide feedback when requested by those working on that large scale.

So I'm intentional with a few people. To call it 'discipleship' almost sounds too 'Christian' and makes me sound too good, as if I am a wise experienced yoda-like teacher. It also sounds too clinical and manipulative. Rohan, a friend from uni, once asked me "so am I your next project?"

For me, these few are my intentional journeying companions - people who I will share life together with; people who I will seek to learn from and get glimpses of God from, just as they may catch glimpses of Him through and with me; people that will encourage me as I also seek to encourage them. As much as possible, I want to ensure any power differences that is there or can occur doesn't become a defining aspect of our friendships (they have to be able to challenge me also). An important part of these is intentionally ensuring they get my time.

On one level it can sound like the childish playground games of identifying 'who's my best friends versus those that aren't' though exclusion is not my aim. I will continue to be approachable to most. It's more a recognition of my own limitations, and possibility in order to get a sense of personal "effectiveness" as well as being where I am wanted. Matt 5:46ff will continue to haunt me however, and so I will continue to engage in activities and projects with a broader outlook in addition to my more individual efforts.

So in addition to a few individuals in Melbourne, I'm committed to a year 12 student (not at my school) with one of the churches I'm involved with here, a few fellow teachers and someone in Bendigo (though that is more on a formal basis due to us belonging to a particular network). I've also joined a youth service up here on a voluntary basis which may result in more possibilities. And I'm still trying to work out what intentionality means with students at my school (where there is of course a greater power disparity issue).

If I wasn't single, I would be less ambitious and more realistic, and follow the Star Wars' Sith Lords/Jedi model - "two there are, a master and an apprentice" (in addition to my partner and family of course).