The marker of a successful school holidays

Over the last fortnight I’ve been on holidays.

Actually, that’s not true.

I’ve been released from face-to-face teaching. I’ve not been on holidays.

Like many other professions in Australia, teachers only actually get four weeks of holidays per year.

School holidays are designed for preparation and marking.

These school holidays, for me, have been no different. Prep and marking.

The school holiday period releases you to do what is required in the time you would otherwise be doing your regular duties.

The same was true over my years as a youth minister.

The holidays freed you up to do the duties you otherwise may not find time to do.

So, what is the best way to determine if your school holidays have been a success?

You create something new.

You use the time, now available to you, to make something that you’d otherwise not have the space to achieve.

For me, over a number of hours last week, I created a document which listed every source and resource for the upcoming ancient Vikings unit I’ll be teaching next term.

I’d have never got around to this without the school holidays.

Over the summer, I wouldn’t have made notes on every unit I teach from the textbooks without the six weeks of “holidays.”

This, for me, is the point of the holidays.

Create.

Prepare.

Document.

If I end the holidays with something which I’ll be able to look back on - making my future teaching more streamlined - then the holidays have been a success.

Those in ministry must occasionally be spared the ministry of distraction

By no means do I consider myself back in youth or children’s ministry.

Currently, I’m helping out the church my kids attend by volunteering every fortnight.

This includes giving a short address during the morning service.

It’s not a tremendous interruption nor strenuous undertaking.

But, I have noticed that I’m far more distracted at church.

Now I have jobs to do.

Now I have tasks for prepare for.

Now I have activities to set up.

Now I need to know my part in the service.

Now I need to be ready to “hit my cue” during the service.

Now I need to pack up after the service.

Now I need to make sure that everything is clean before I leave.

And, as a consequence… I’m more distracted.

Before the service…

During the service…

After the service…

Once a fortnight, I’ll be setting up instead of greeting others.

Once a fortnight, I no longer hear the sermon.

Once a fortnight, I can be glancing over notes during the prayers.

Once a fortnight, I’ll be packing away or farewelling kids instead of chatting with other parents.

Now, please don’t mishear me, it’s not a burden.

I volunteered.

I knew, intimately, what I was signing up for.

But I have been reminded of my years in ministry and a vital gift that churches should offer those in vocational ministry.

The gift of nothing.

No preaching.

And no service leading.

And no public prayer.

No offical duties at all.

Weeks where they do nothing.

Just attend.

Just be a member of the congregation.

Worship without distraction.

Sing without an eye on the order of service.

Pray without an awareness of the clock.

Listen to a sermon.

Be blessed by those within their church.

For some, this may be a difficult transition.

They will struggle to “switch off.”

Maybe there is a lesson in that… 

For some, they will be prodded to be more prepared, or - better yet - realise the calling to intentionally train up others to “take the reins.”

Hopefully there is a lesson within as well…

For some, they will remember what it’s like to attend in person on a Sunday.

There should be plenty of lessons gleaned from the other side of the pulpit…

Honestly, ministers will never become pastorally absent. 

They will still show concern. They will still check in. They can still minister to those present on a personal level.

But, these Sundays will allow ministers the freedom to… worship, pray and be taught/encouraged without distraction.

Surely, this is a gift most ministers will gladly accept and a lot of congregations will benefit from.

The blog killer 2.0

You, dear reader, know my name. It’s in the www of this blog.

You may also know things about my family from various blog posts.

You should know my previous profession - I worked as a youth minister for more than a dozen years.

But, I never stated directly where I worked.

I usually avoided even mentioning the suburbs my church was located in.

But, a short amount of googling would have quickly informed you.

Now, in my new job, I still don’t mention too many details.

Sure, I’ll mention that I’m a teacher, but never where I work.

Yet, with some determined internet sleuthing, you could fill in the gaps.

This puts me in a potentially awkward position.

For, technically, I either need to remain completely anonymous or do no more than share that I’m a non-description teacher.

Currently, that’s all I try and do.

Students still can’t find me.

Not really.

They’ve tried.

In my presence.

But, what happens if the truth emerges?

Frankly, I’m not sure.

I previously wrote that a minister of the church I worked for, with adequate justification, could kill or suspend my blog.

Now, I guess, a principal or overarching education code-of-conduct could do the same… 

Shouldn’t our message be that we’re not jerks?

Churches want to be welcoming.

They want to be known for it.

They will advertise it.

They will preach about it.

They will plaster it on their church signage.

It may be directed at families, youth, LBGTQIA+, migrants, refugees, the poor, single mothers… any minority really.

We will welcome them all.

Some, especially so.

But, I wonder if this should be an intentional aim.

Is it needed?

Shouldn’t following Jesus, by definition, mean that you’re welcoming?

Shouldn’t this be a result of being a community shaped by the Kingdom of God?

Shouldn’t this be a consequence of having the Holy Spirit working within you?

Really, doesn’t the advertising just need to indicate that you’re … Christians?

Shouldn’t the message your church needs to hear from the pulpit be… don’t be a jerk to others?