13 Reasons Why Reflections

I’m currently watching the final episode from the first series of 13 Reasons Why. It was one of my tasks to watch the series over the last week of the school holidays.

Obviously, if you know anything about the series, you’ll be aware of the subject matter and why I won’t be watching beyond season 2. I hear that the show drops off a cliff after the second season.

On a positive, the show was really cleaver in how it used the injuries of the main character to time jump back and forward, as was the way it used warm and cold colours to reflect the mood of the characters.

But, as I’ve watched the show, the usual annoyances emerged whenever I delve into US teen dramas.

The low hanging fruit is that the actors, as usual, were far too old to be playing high school students.

Second, the settings of North American schools - circling around proms, football and the large school cafeteria - don’t reflect Australian schools. They’re totally foreign to where I teach or where I went to school. It was because of this that I almost stopped watching after the first two episodes. 

But, the show then dragged me in.

Drama unfolded.

And, this lead to the largest disconnect I had. The drama.

All the drama.

Obviously, this should be expected.

A tv drama. Has. Drama.

It just doesn’t resonate with me. Or most people I grew up with. Or most kids a see.

My teen years were, relatively, drama free.

Of course, there were issues.

Teenage - vastly overblown - issues.

But not reflecting the continual drama from the show.

I, frankly, would be a background character.

Someone who walked the halls namelessly.

Quiet.

Undramatic.

Living a life unworthy of a tv show.

I’m guessing, like most teens.

The show has made me consider how I’ve mentioned suicide on this blog over the years.

And how we all hold our own secrets.

And how we interpret our own truth.

I assume that season two will unwrap more of these themes with the trail portion of the events.

If nothing else, I’m impressed that so many people had the ability in the 21st Century to listen to cassette tapes.

Tiny Bible Bits Stats

Back in 2021 I completed my first Tiny Bible Bit audit. Chronicling thousands of posts took a looong time...

If you've been living under a rock, Tiny Bible Bits is a Facebook devotional that I've been writing three times per week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday) almost unbroken since September 25 2011.

So, over the last week I've been updating the database and crunching more data (or actively avoiding the starting my pile of marking).

As of the end of last month, here's the updated details...

Total posts across 5312 days - 2354

All 66 books of the bible have now been used.

Most popular books - 

Matthew x198, Psalms x172, Luke x165, John x159, Acts x122, Hebrews x100, Romans x99, Genesis x95

Least used books -

Song of Songs x2, Nahum x2, Zephaniah x2, Joel x3, Obadiah x3, Zechariah x3, 2 Thessalonians x4, 3 John x4

Total chapters used - 617 (51.9% of the entire bible)

Old Testament chapters - 378 (40.7% of the OT)

Oddly, all seven articles from the book of Esther have been from Esther 4.

Most used OT chapters - 

Genesis 3 x30

Genesis 1 x14

Exodus 20 x12

Psalm 119 x11

75 passages from separate individual Psalms.  

New Testament chapters - 239 (91.9% of the NT)

Most popular NT chapters - 

Luke 2 x35

Matthew 6 x28

John 1 x25

Romans 12 x23

Ephesians 4 x22

Romans 8 x21

Matthew 5 x 19

Hebrews 12 x19

Luke 15 x18

Acts 17 x17

Philippians 4 x17

Ephesians 2 x16

1 Corinthians 15 x15

Matthew 1 x14

1 Corinthians 13 x14

1 John 3 x14

From the Sermon on the Mount - Matthew 5-7 x57

The only chapters I haven't used from the New Testament are Matthew 19, Mark 3, John 7, Acts 6, Acts 24-25, Romans 4, 2 Corinthians 6, 2 Thessalonians 2, 1 Timothy 3, 1 John 2, Revelation 4, Revelation 8-11 and Revelation 13-18.

Total bible passages - 2081 

Old Testament passages - 843 

Most popular OT passages -

Genesis 1:1 x8

Genesis 3:6 x7

Esther 4:14-16 x7

Psalm 46:10 x6

Psalm 127:1 x6

New Testament passages - 1511

Most popular NT passages - 

Hebrews 12:1-2 x16

Matthew 6:9 x10

John 3:16 x8

1 Corinthians 15:58 x8

Ephesians 1:17 x7

Matthew 11:28 x6

Luke 15:20 x6

John 1:5 x6

John 1:14 x6

Acts 26:29 x6

Revelation 21:4 x6

Number of Christmas posts x48

Number of Easter posts x32

Number of posts on the Lord's Prayer x19

Number of New Year's posts x14

Number of posts referencing COVID x14

Number of Mother's Day posts x6

Number of posts referencing Trump x3

Number of reposted "most misunderstood" posts x3 - 

Jeremiah 29:11, Matthew 18:20 & Romans 8:28-29

1 Video post on 1 Kings 19:1-13

Missed/delayed posts in Nov 2013, Sep 2015, March 2016 & March 2017. 

I took a three month break between Nov 2015-Feb 2016 - the passages I left was Psalm 119:105, returning with Isaiah 41:13.

What I learnt from attending a lot of funerals

I’ve been to lots of funerals.

When you’ve worked for multiple churches over 13 years, this is unsurprising.

When that denomination was the one with the - on average - eldest attendees, this is even less surprising.

When one of your churches was the chapel for the local private school, this increases the amount of funerals dramatically.

Add all these contingencies together, along with being one of the few members of your church who could run the technical elements of a funeral in the middle of a workday, then my amount of funeral lurking is entirely predictable.

For, most of the time, I was just a funeral lurker.

I often didn’t know the deceased.

I usually didn’t know many people in attendance.

But, I learnt a lot from attending so many funerals.

First, they reminded me of what matters. What really matters. Funerals are a time for the essentials. The plain gospel. Family. Fond memories.

Second, they reminded me that life is finite. Mine, like all others, will end. I will one day have a funeral.

Third, they reminded me that death is unpredictable. I could be snuffed out at any age. More than once I attended a funeral of someone who I shared the same age as. The day of my funeral is out of my control.

Fourth, they taught me how to write a good eulogy.

Finally, it they placed the voice of the grave periodically in front of me.

Collectively, these funerals placed a regular reminder that my life and ministry mattered. 

They impacted others.

They impact beyond my days.

For some, they help impact their eternity.

The voices from the graveyard that we need to hear

I’ve just finished listening to The Rise and Fall of Mars Hill podcast.

As I heard about the ups and downs of the Seattle monolithic, my mind wandered to the churches I’ve worked in, the ministries I’ve led, the people I’ve worked alongside and the undulations of all their fates.

Of course, I also pondered my time in ministry and the triumphs and tragedies which unfolded.

On many occasions, things sounded familiar.

But, one thing which struck me was a short point that someone made in the final episode.

Churches have lost the ministry of graveyards.

With the majority of churches now disassociated with tombs on their church grounds, the somber reminder of death has now been silenced.

And, as a modern church, we are weaker for it.

We are weaker because we don’t have a regular reminder of our destination.

We are weaker because we don’t have an intimate connect with funerals and death.

We are weaker because we don’t have the silent witness of the bygone saints.

For, these give us perspective.

These give us a reminder that we will be in the graves ourselves all too soon. And, then, we will be accountable. For how we live. For how we minister. For how we lead. For how we treat others.

The point was made that, with a louder voice from the graveyard, some of the mistakes churches and ministers make could be - at worst - reconsidered and - at best - avoided outright.

For, we need to be reminded periodically of our own mortality.

We need to be reminded that our days, ultimately, are short.

We need to be reminded that we will give an account for the way we have lived out those days.

We need to be reminded that what we do in ministry is only a link in a very long chain. It was there before us. It will be there after us.

This is true for the church.

This is true for your ministry.

This is undeniably true for the gospel.

Missing the rhythm of the liturgical calendar

I now go to a fairly low church.

I also grew up and worked in numerous low churches.

But, ironically, every church previous to my current one revolved around the liturgical calendar.

And, I think this link with tradition and the liturgical seasons is important.

Frankly, it’s something I miss about my current church.

For, while it passed with a mention, very little was made of Palm Sunday last week.

No palm branches.

No palm crosses.

No reading of the passage.

In fact, no ministry of the church - adults, teens or youth - focused on the events of Palm Sunday.

So… I missed Palm Sunday last week.

As I did last year.

And the year before that.

It’s only now that I’m out of the liturgical cycle that I see the true value of the repetition.

Palm Sunday. Christ the King Sunday. Trinity Sunday. Advent. Lent. Epiphany. Pentecost. 

The repetition of traditions.

The repetition of the core stories.

The repetition of the central truths.

The significance of communion

I’ve written a lot about communion over the years.

Last week I took some of the older youngsters through the significance of communion.

We spoke about how we did communion - the explanation, invitation, collection, consideration and united consumption.

But, more importantly, we spoke about the significance of the sacrament.

It reminds us of what Jesus did.

It reminds us of who Jesus is.

It reminds us of our connection with Jesus.

It reminds us of our connection with each other.

The tension a pillar must feel in a new church

Every church has pillars. Even in as far back as the New Testament.

Every church I’ve worked at had a few.

My home church had some.

My current church has some.

A pillar will be a member of the congregation who maintains the values, selflessly serves and - in short - holds the unspoken wisdom of the church.

But, what happens when they make a jump to another church?

How do they feel?

What do they see?

I suspect, being in a new congregation comes with a sense of freedom.

You’re not a pillar. 

You’re anonymous.

You’re not relied upon.

You’re not the first to arrive nor expected to be the last to leave.

You’re free to worship without a checklist of duties.

You’re able to observe a fresh context for faith.

You’re able to meet new people.

But, there must also be a sense of loss.

Loss of importance.

Loss of involvement.

Loss of familiarity.

When a pillar jumps - no matter what the circumstances - it must be a temptation to slot into your familiar roles in the new church.

Get on a roster.

Share your experiences.

Recycling some of your previous wins.

When a pillar jumps, it must be a strange mix of release and a desire to dive into a new congregation.

The challenge for those within the new worshipping community is to balance this tension in such a way that a long-term-valuable-congregant is accepted for who they are on day-one, not the potential to be a pillar in their new church.

Why reading the gospels in chronological order is an AWFUL idea

In my post entitled Random Graham Revisited, I concluded by mentioning that I’m planning to read through the entire Bible in 2029, 2033, 2037, 2041, 2044 and 2049.

Across the decades I’ll vary the methods I’ll use to read the Bible, with one of the ways to read through a chronological Bible (but not until 2049). 

In short, if you aren’t familiar, this method rearranges the text of the scripture in - as the name suggests - chronological order.

Which, for the Old Testament historical passages, is a brilliant idea.

Which, for the Old Testament prophecy passages, is a brilliant idea.

Which, for the New Testament epistles and early church narrative passages, is a brilliant idea.

But… for the gospels is a HORRIBLE idea.

For, the gospel aren’t designed to be mashed together chronologically.

This would be dishonest to the authors intentions and the entire genre that they are writing in.

The gospel authors are not writing biographies as we think of them in the modern world. These aren’t interested in chronological events.

Biographies in the ancient world, like those written about Jesus or the parallel lives recorded by Plutarch, are far more invested in the kairos moments, not the chronological ones.

These biographies of antiquity are more concerned about how the significant events in a life shape the person, their lasting impact and the ultimate message being conveyed.

If you force them into a chronological framework, then you fundamentally lose a vital part of their composition.

You lose their purpose.

You obscure their audience.

You soften the individual decisions that the author has made.

You cloud the literary context.

You quieten the voice of the author.

All because you missed the importance of the genre.

But, manipulating the gospels into a chronological timeframe places you in an unfair position of judgement over the gospel authors.

For, you then question why some things are omitted or place in the “wrong” place.

Of course, you do so without engaging in the entire conversation that the gospel writer is having.

You don’t see the thematic collection of teachings.

You don’t see the intentional groupings of miracles.

You don’t sense the decisions about sheer length of the gospel which influenced the any omissions.

It is clear that the gospel of John was selective in the events it included, with Jesus “performing many other signs… which are not recorded” (John 20:30). Every gospel is selective.

I read something during the week which mentioned that the gospel accounts are like a portrait, not a photograph.

They are accurate, but artistic.

They are accurate, but influenced by the artist.

They are accurate, but come from different perspectives.

They are accurate, but also present a message.

Smashing four paintings of a person together would make a horrible Frankenstein of the subject being depicted.

While I’ll read a lot of the bible in chronological order, the gospels - as they are - deserve to stand on their own.

Is the pinnacle spiritual metacognition?

The highest educational aim is nurturing metacognition in your students.

Form you don’t just want your students to absorb what you’re teaching them, but to be able to think about the process of their learning.

In short, you want them to be able to think about their thinking.

This is usually shown through their ability to critically reflect on the processes and effectiveness of learning and the capacity to accurately assess their understanding and obstacles to further growth.

But, is there a spiritual equivalent?

Is there a similar summit of spiritual metacognition?

Of course, I think it is possible to develop your understanding of theology and the way you connect with God.

But, I suspect this is not the height of discipleship.

While there is incredible value in familiarising yourself with the scriptures, studying theology and church history and nurturing the tools of spiritual disciplines, this isn’t the chief aim of Christianity.

The chief aim is a relationship reflected in obedience.

These must be the markers of spiritual development.

The summit is not metacognition - understanding the structures of discipleship - but a deepened relationship, observant spirit and swifter obedience.

Instead of spiritual metacognition, we require Spirit metacognition.

What we need to understand is the Spirit of God, not the spirit of spirituality.

This is true maturity and development in the faith.

You need maturity, not a mirror

Peers can be wise. Obviously.

Peers can be supportive.

Peers are essential for working out the difficulties which are happening in your life.

But, frankly, peers can create a blind-leading-the-blind paradigm.

Often, our peers only know what we know.

They have only gone through what we have experienced.

What we require, if we want true guidance, is an older head. We need someone who is in the next one - if not multiple - life stage.

Someone who has gone through the experiences we are navigating and walked besides many who have tread the same path.

When you’re just entering the workforce, you need an experienced person in your field.

When you’re newlyweds, you need a couple with decades of matrimony behind them.

When you’re starting a family, you need someone who now has an empty nest of healthy offspring.

When you’re buying a house, you need people who have sealed a property deal.

When your marriage is struggling, you need someone who has fought through the relational tough times.

This is true for the ministers of our church.

This is true for the leaders of our bible studies.

For, we need age, not peers.

We need maturity, not a mirror.

Life continues to get more expensive

Life changes.

Constantly.

Life has stages and, hopefully, progressions.

As you go through these steps the cost of life changes.

You get more responsibilities.

You gain dependants.

You clarify your sense of purpose.

You start school…

You start puberty…

You have you first long-term relationship…

You become sexually active…

You get your first job…

You finish high school…

You complete any higher education…

You learn how to drive…

You become a legal adult…

You gain a pet…

You progress in your profession…

You move out of home…

You get engaged…

You get married…

You buy a house…

You have kids…

You change professions…

You retire…

You become a grandparent…

Of course, this process then continues as your children grow…

They learn to walk…

They start school…

They start puberty…

They start dating…

So on and so on…

Life continues to get more expensive.

How do you know? 

Because your mistakes mean more.

If you live at home, without anyone keeping you accountable, then life is fairly cheap.

You have few people depending on you.

You can, relatively, do as you please without major knock-on-effects.

But, then life gets more expensive.

The cost of your choices and, especially mistakes, increase.

Now, your mistakes take on a greater cost.

You hurt others.

You suffer greater financial consequences.

You live with the ramifications for a longer period of time.

As a parent, you also get to see the cost of another life increasing.

Their mistakes become more expensive.

And, thus, so does the cost of your life increase by proxy.

As my girls get older my cost of life increases as theirs does.

And, every time it does, the older I feel…

The modern effect of misunderstanding kairos & chronos time

Currently, I’m teaching my year 7 classes about time.

I like teaching this introductory topic because it reminds me just how tricky the concept of time is.

For, we think we confidently know far more than we actually do.

The length of a year?

The number of year we are in?

The order of the months?

All of these are far more complex than they appear on face value.

In fact, how the time students think about time harkens back to the Greeks - chronos and kairos. 

Time can be linear and ordered - chronos - or time can be segmented and highlighted by moments of significance - kairos.

The easiest way to display both is on a timeline. 

Only moments of significance are added to the timeline and the timeline itself is a chronological representation.

But, modernity struggles with the two differentiations.

Why?

Because we create reels instead of photo albums. 

Reels document every chronos moment. 

Photo albums are reserved for the kairos moments.

Nowadays, our holidays are punctuated by 1500 pictures instead of 50 photos.

We take pictures of food instead of being present for meals.

We live moments through our screens, not seeking to cement them in our memories.

For kairos is expensive. Chronos is cheap.

Before we documented, shared and judged every chronological moment in our lives, the restrictions of price and time restricted earlier generation to commemorate only kairos moments.

Random Graham Revisited

Back in 2011 I did a blog post called Random Graham. It was a post about small somewhat-interesting tidbits about me. 

I found the post a stumbled over the post while looking for something else and, a decade-and-half later, I figured it was time for a revisit and - where needed - additions and amendments. The amendments will be in italics.

1. My first ever sermon was given at Katoomba Anglican Church. The passage was Hebrews 12:1-2. I had the entire sermon memorised. 
2. My first pet, a bird named Sam, was found hung in his plastic ladder by my sister when she was around 10 years old. He is still buried in the back garden with the ladder around his neck. 
3. I've owned three (now five) cars in my life. Cecil, Gerald and Big Red. Gerald was crap. My last car was named Speedy and my current car is named Ernie.
4. I've kept a daily diary for the last 14 years. (I actually gave this up a few years after this post. But, I’m still hoarding all my old diaries)
5. I chew quietly to myself when I sleep. I'm told, so does my sister. It must be a genetic thing... 
6. My first kiss was in a park. Her name was Rachel. 
7. My first kiss was my (ex)wife was on a dance floor. A seedy, seedy dance floor. 
8. The place my parents got married is now a car park. 
9. I went on schoolies three times. 
10. I returned from my first schoolies with bright yellow hair. 
11. Subsequently, I had bright yellow hair on my 18+ proof-of-age card. 
12. My first cat never died. He just disappeared. 
13. I used to wear one hard contact lens in my left eye. 
14. I wore glasses in primary school. To help strengthen my lazy right eye I had a yellow smiley patch over my left. The look was not attractive. 
15. I almost always cry when I watch Forrest Gump or the final episode of M.A.S.H. 
16. I've kept all the letters my (ex)wife has ever written me in my bedside table. I’ve still got a few of them, but I also keep every letter from my current wife.
17. I still have the sign in sheet from my first week at youth group. I was in year 6. 
18. I once had the name Graham Baldcock on a boarding pass. When this is a rugby trip, the name sticks. 
19. When I was a teenager I cut up a heap of my childhood photos to make a collage for Mum. I never did make the collage. 
20. When I was a kid I slept with a seal. 
21. I used to be deathly afraid of Freddy Kruger as a kid. I watched "Nightmare on Elm Street 3" at my sister's birthday party. 
22. I can name every WWF/E champion from 1978 to approx 1999. I can also name every Wrestlemania main event for the first 20 years. 
23. My Mum would stroke my nose to put me to sleep. It still works to this day. 
24. My first job was working at a deli. 
25. I had the name "weasel" on the back of my year 12 jersey. 
26. I sing in the shower. 
27. It annoys me that I can't pronounce my name. 
28. When I cry at my child's birth it will be as much about become a father as it will be that my Dad won't be around to see it. (Actually, it was more of a solitary tear, not a weepy flood.)
29. I flirted with the idea of getting tongue surgery to fix my speech impediment. 
30. I only had one girlfriend before dating my wife. 
31. I used to steal cigarettes from Mum and Dad to smoke at the park in year 6. 
32. I used to steal loose chance from Dad to buy micro machines. 
33. My two favourite authors are Agatha Christie and Valerio Massimo Manfredi. And Mary Beard.
34. I have a chipped tooth. I chipped it biting into a chocolate freckle. 
35. I can't ride a bicycle. (WRONG! I just can’t a bike confidently. Every holiday I’m dragged bike riding by my wife. I can do it just fine as long as the terrain is flat. I can’t really do the whole out-of-the-saddle-so-you-can-ride-up-a-hill thing.)
36. I couldn't swim confidently until I was 17. 
37. I've read through the entire bible twice. The first time took me 1 year, 8 months, 10 days. 
38. I've never been in a fight. 
39. As a kid, I once put a knife into a toaster. There were sparks. 
40. Years ago, I got a mobile phone from Dad when mine stopped working. It still has a video he took of my niece. You can hear my Dad's voice in the background. I miss his laugh. 
41. My Dad and I both got snooker cues for my 21st. I beat him at snooker. Often. (The snooker cues are now missing. That makes me a little sad)
42. I once broke a water pipe connected to someones water meter. I just kept walking. 
43. I was paralysed for a short time when I was hit over the head with a pillow. 
44. I've had my appendix removed. And three of my wisdom teeth. 
45. I've never used a razor to shave my face. (WRONG! This is now all I use. I converted from electric around 2016)

Now… some new random facts.

46. I used to carry in my wallet a small army figurine from my childhood. I found it when I was cleaning my bedroom while I was till living at home. He was the last survivor. I carried it around as a reminder that I’m a child of God. I had that in my wallet for around a decade before losing it.

47. I used to have the newspaper obituary from my dad. It was kept in a pile of papers stored at my mums. It got water damaged when her garage flooded and then fell apart. I wish I still had it.

48. I’ve been “learning” German on Duolingo for approximately 6 years. My current streak is 2321 days. Honestly, I’m still functionally illiterate, with my vocabulary far excelling my pronunciation or grammar. I suspect I’ll finish the entire German course by the middle of the year. I’ll then aim to do a course face-to-face.

49. The next language I want to learn is Latin. It must be the historian within me…

50. I’ve been doing the same bible reading regime (working through a book/segment of the bible my reading it and then studying/reading a number of commentaries) since 2022. To complete the entire bible will take me until the end of 2027.

51. I’ve now written over 2200 Tiny Bible Bits, touching on approximately 2500 bible passages.

52. Everyday at work I wear socks with some kind of animals or characters on them. I have students guess what they are when I need to “select a person at random”. Friday is always flamingos 🦩 

53. I start each school day by handwriting my timeline for the day on a notepad I bring with me to every class. Other teachers, rightly, make fun of this.

54. I’ve been landscaping the garden at my current home for the last 13 months. It won’t be complete until the middle of the year. 

55. I’ve mapped out my reading schedule (bible, theology, leadership, history, bible reading plans) until 2055.

56. According to the schedule, I should read over the entire bible (using various methods) in 2029, 2033, 2037, 2041, 2044, 2049 and cycle back to my current 6-year study plan in 2050.

The importance of professional compartmentalisation

We all have stress.

Interpersonal stress.

Mental stress.

Physical stress.

Stress at church.

Stress at home.

Stress at work.

Life begins to feel overwhelming when the stresses of life start to pile up upon each other.

Mental stress results in interrupted sleep and, thus, physical stress.

Stress at home blends into stress at work.

Stress at work blends outside of work hours.

What we need is a hearty dose of healthy compartmentalism.

We need to establish routines to box up our stresses so they don’t catch a ride into another part of our life.

This was the beauty of my previous jobs in retail and meter reading.

I carried nothing home.

No matter what was going on professionally, none of it had any serious ramifications for my personal life.

No matter how bad a day I had, by the time I made my way home, everything was out of my mind.

Of course, it helped immensely that my jobs weren’t overly important to me.

Retail wasn’t my profession.

Meter reading was only ever temporary.

But, ministry and teaching stresses are a different matter.

These ACTUALLY matter.

But, they are also 30 minutes from home.

They could be packed away on the drive home, ready to be reopened on the way back to work.

We need bumpers in our life to allow segmentation.

Maybe, for you, it is a drive home. It could be going to the gym. Perhaps it is walking the dog. It may be as simple as sitting in your car for a few minutes once you pull into your driveway. A mental unloading while riding the lift up to your apartment.

No matter how you achieve it, with healthy compartmentalisation, the bleeding of stresses can be somewhat stemmed.

While every element of your life will be inevitably connected, having the ability to shut off your vocational stresses, can be vital for your wellbeing and provide the adequate space required for you to then deal with the obstacles awaiting you on a Monday morning.

Do we partake in educational waterboarding?

56.

This is how many assessments tasks a junior student will approximately have over the academic year at the high school I teach in.

That is a lot. 

In fact, the number has been intentionally reduced due to the sheer quantity.

But, even if the number is knocked down to 40, this is still a lot of testing for a young teenager.

But, then again, we teach students a lot of content.

If you’re in year seven in New South Wales, for my teaching subjects, you’ll be taught six separate topics over 40 weeks.

My senior class covers ten lengthy topics across 7 school terms.

Again, this is a lot.

If you multiply these figures across all of the subjects that a student takes, then they get bombarded with content.

For some students, it’s manageable.

School works for them.

They thrive within the educational structures which we’ve developed over generations.

They excel within the pressure of study and examination.

But, other students struggle.

They struggle under the cognitive load.

They struggle under the stress of exams.

They struggle under the relentlessness of the school year.

In short, for some kids, school is just too much.

It can be torturous.

A continual flood of information and performance.

So, for these teens, we could compare the way we teach - or at least amount - as the equivalent of educational waterboarding.

We force too much information down their throats until they can’t handle the sheer volume.

And, then we continue the torrent.

For some kids, it’s all too much.

They are subjected to educational waterboarding.

I wonder what would happen if we found a productive way to lessen the load.

To reduce the stress.

The spread out the content.

To slow the torrent.

The trouble is, with the structures which are currently in place, our ability to now rewire the modern education systems is an uphill battle.

Meanwhile, far too many kids will still be drowning in schools…

Do you sit face-to-face or side-by-side with God? Does your gender help you choose?

How do you like to communicate?

If you’re sitting with someone, especially a friend, how do you sit?

Generally, women will sit opposite each other - face-to-face.

Men, alternately, tend to sit side-by-side.

As a result, women have and can discern stronger emotional connections while men have a more casual connection.

But, are these conversational dynamics reflected in our relationship with God?

Are they mirrored in the way we pray?

I recall an incident which reflected this when I was in senior high.

Back then, perfectly matching most church dynamics, I was the only male in a group mainly made up of females (I was outnumbered around 6:1).

For some reason we were discussing prayer and the mental images we get when we pray.

For most of the other members present, they pictured a majestic, transcendent, picture of throne rooms and grander.

I pictured sitting next to Jesus, on a balcony, having a beer. Far more incarnational.

My response was not appreciated.

Apparently, I wasn’t showing enough respect.

I was being too casual.

But, this image perfectly encapsulates male connection.

And, it baffled the ladies.

Why? Because I was valuing communication with God like a bloke.

They valued a more feminine communication style when it came to God.

So, does the way you prefer to communicate shape the way you also pray?

If you prefer action or problem solving - which tend to be more masculine traits - then your prayers will tend to be more detailed-oriented.

If you communicate in a more empathetic or nurturing manner, then your prayers will tend towards something more pastoral.

I wonder if churches take this into account when they consider who lead prayer in church.

You need to both relax in and fight for God’s sovereignty

R.G.I.C.

Relax, God’s in Charge.

This is something which I recited often as a young adult.

Jobs? R.G.I.C.

Dating? R.G.I.C.

Ministry? R.G.I.C.

But, I’ll admit now that I’m more grizzled, it can be tough to relax in God’s sovereignty.

Sometimes, you need to fight.

Trusting in God’s decision making and timing can be a wrestle.

It’s something which, over time, you learn is a part of discipleship.

But, you need to do both. 

Relax and fight.

Relax that God is in control. Not you.

Fight that you’ll continue to trust God. Not yourself.

This is the tension of God’s sovereignty.

A tension, like all of them, which needs to be continually balanced and recalibrated.

What are the dynamics of a small town church selection or transition?

Last week my wife and I were away on holidays and our accomodation was located near some local churches.

Catholic.

Uniting.

Independent.

All within a few blocks of one another.

Considering the size of the town, with around 4000 people, there were a surprising number of church choices.

Which got me wondering… What are the dynamic of choosing or changing churches in a small town?

When you first arrive, do you check out all the options over a month?

Do you freely announce that there’s a selection underway?

Does the church which “gets you” feel a sense of pride?

If you’re looking at transitioning to another church, is it a bigger deal?

If you have some kind of significant presence within your previous church - say you were a youth group leader, worship leader or a member of the church council - is you’re moving a significant ecclesiastical shift?

When you arrive at a new church, are you already somewhat known?

Does this add more pressure to a perspective church to “woo you”?

Do the reasons for you moving take on more weight, especially if it was an interpersonal issue?

If you’ve left under a cloud of (non-illegal) controversy, will your first Sunday in a new church come with public baggage?

In a large city, these issues just don’t really arise.

You can start with a clean slate.

You’re anonymous.

You get the freedom to drift in and “check the place out” without causing much of a stir.

In a small town, this may not be possible, especially if - like it always is - there’s a lot of cross-denominational networks.

Why I WANT my kids to go to church during January

6 weeks.

As a teacher, I often hear that I get to delight in 6 weeks of holidays over the Summer.

Of course, Summer still involves a stack of work during January (and there’s only five-and-a-half weeks this year!) and there are markers of a successful holiday.

Almost universally, churches will mirror the timelines of the school year.

Thus, there’s usually no youth ministry or dedicated ministry for young people on a Sunday morning during January.

Nonetheless, as my kids get older, I WANT them attending church during January.

Now, I realise that just over a year ago I wrote that parents shouldn’t feel too bad about skipping church over the Summer.

My reasoning, more or less, still stands. Parents should primarily disciple their kids. This is true in January. And June. And every other month.

But… the reasons to attend church over the Summer are powerful. Arguably, even more so over January than during the school term.

Over January, the adult relationships which are vital for young people to be connected and cared for are cultivated.

Over January, my kids get a greater experience of the church community.

Over January, my kids get a glimpse of “big church” so it’s not so foreign.

Over January, my kids get to see how I act in church.

Over January, my kids get to be closer to the community of faith - where faith, more often than not - is caught and not taught.

I’ll admit… I’m definitely thinking about my kids attending church during the school holidays more than they are.

In fact, I allow my offspring to be on electronic devices once the sermon kicks off (sue me!).

But, if church is as much about the community and support provided as it is about learning or academia, then putting my kids in the room of Christians is a good use of my time.

Could I teach at the same school as my own children?

As a teacher on school holidays I’m not thinking too much about school in 2026.

That can still wait a few more weeks since I’m not preparing any new content to deliver over the year ahead of me (at least not yet anyway!).

But, my mind has wandered to teaching my children.

Often, I’ll pass on little tidbits about my classes and, sometimes, they say that they’d enjoy having a teacher like me.

For example, I mentioned over dinner today a fun distraction tip for my eldest to make her English teacher’s head spin (the question you should pose is “Why is the sound that a dog makes different in a lot of languages? Shouldn’t they be all the same because they are describing the same sound?”).

But, it raises a good question… Could I teach in the same school as my kids?

Of course, unless I decide, it won’t happen.

The only realistic scenarios which would land me in that situation would be if I successfully applied for a job at their high school or they transferred into a school I was already working at.

And, outside of these, I’m not it a rural or specialist setting where it would be impossible to not teach my offspring.

Nonetheless, I pretty sure I wouldn’t benefit from the situation.

For, I admit, I’m weak.

As great as others may be able to handle sharing the same school as their kids, I don’t think it would do me (never mind my kids) any good.

I’d be too protective.

I’d be too nosy.

I’d be… if the situation warranted it… too harsh.

Despite any overriding sense of professionalism, my desire to parent would be too easily triggered.

Father would trump teacher.

Of course, I’d like to think that I’d be able to easily mark an essay from my child impartially, but the personal interactions of my child would be something which I’d have trouble containing.

If she was bullied, I’d want to go all protective Papa-bear.

If she was a bully, I’d be crushed.

If she was rude to a teacher, I’d be personally offended.

If she did a stupid-teen-action, which most teens inevitability do, I’d be overwhelmingly apologetic.

Have a mentioned that I’m a weird, popular, but oddball teacher? It may be better that parts of the student body don’t share my surname.

So, these - along with a bunch of other reasons that I’m probably unaware of - shouldn’t result in me sharing a workplace with one of my offspring.