Stand and Deliver

I now have a week of teaching under my belt and am preparing for a week of more. My time is divided between instructional teaching in the beginning of the week and conversation classes at the end.

Preparing for my first day was the most nerve-wracking, but was luckily low-stakes. My only student had a good grasp of the basics, and Marek was there to translate instructions. I felt exhausted after the hour and a half, and I am not sure if the student learned anything new, but he did have a lot of time to practice conversation.

This first day of teaching was the same day that I had my poppy encounters. After I had finished my morning traipsing and before I began to teach, I had devotional time with Martin and Anna, my co-workers. I had met Anna that morning, while I was making breakfast (in Czech,"vařit snědané", I'm making breakfast) in the communal kitchen. Actually, it was a little late for breakfast, which is why she was making couscous while I was making oatmeal.

As we talked over our food, I thought about younger Kendall, and how much she hated talking to new people. I thought back to two years ago, when I was an international student in England and avoided eye-contact whenever I was around the Brits that I lived with (any surprise that I came out of that experience with American and Norwegian friends, but not a single English one?). I usually still think of myself as that shy, anti-social cave-dweller, which is why I'm still surprised when I can have a normal, adult conversation with someone I've never met before. As it turns out, this is how people make friends.

Luckily, when I pull my head out of my hat, or somewhere else, long enough to talk to another human, I usually end up talking to very nice, accommodating people who have so many interesting things to say (maybe all of my British hall mates weren't loud and obnoxious? I guess I'll never know). Anna is one of those sweet, kind-hearted, easy to get to know kind of people, and I was so happy to start my day with strawberry oatmeal and her acquaintance.

Even better was praying with Anna and Martin before my first teaching session. Martin started our devotional session by reading a passage from the book of Acts, where Jesus makes his final ascension into heaven. How relieving, and how personal, to hear the angel say “Men of Galilee, why do you look to the sky?” The words could have easily been, “Kendall, why do you look everywhere but here?” After my existential grappling on my poppy-walk, those were comforting words.

In fact, the entire passage was comforting and alive, so I'll repeat it here:

In my former book, Theophilus, I wrote about all that Jesus began to do and to teach ²until the day he was taken up to heaven, after giving instructions through the Holy Spirit to the apostles he had chosen. ³After his suffering, he showed himself to these men and gave many convincing proofs that he was alive. He appeared to them over a period of forty days and spoke about the kingdom of God. ⁴On one occasion, while he was eating with them, he gave them this command: "Do not leave Jerusalem, but wait for the gift my Father promised, which you have heard me speak about. ⁵For John baptized with water, but in a few days you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit."

⁶So when they met together, they asked him, "Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?"

⁷He said to them: "It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by his own authority. ⁸But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth."

⁹After he said this, he was taken up before their very eyes, and a cloud hid him from their sight.

¹⁰They were looking intently up into the sky as he was going, when suddenly two men dressed in white stood beside them. ¹¹"Men of Galilee," they said, "why do you stand here looking into the sky? This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven."

(http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=acts%201&version=NIV)

Isn't the book of Acts amazing? Anytime that you doubt your ability to carry out God's will, or even your appropriateness in being called at all, Acts is a reminder that God has historically and habitually called the slowest, most pitiful, most backward po-dunk poor souls in the back-est water eddies of the world to enact the Kingdom of God. "Men of Galilee" might as well be "Welfare recipients of Bluefield."

So whenever I feel like a hack because I'm not a real teacher and am rarely a good Christian, I can just remember that Peter denied Christ, assaulted a police officer, wouldn't let Jesus wash his feet, and still got points for enthusiasm, plus the keys to the kingdom. Obviously this had nothing to do with Peter--he really was a screwup--but with God. Verse 8 has that amazing addendum, "you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you."

Chills, right? Because right there with the assurance that anyone can do God's will is the reminder that the will starts with God and can only be executed through the power and authority of God. Sweeeeet.

I just love, love Acts. It's a starting point and roadmap for anyone exploring call, whether individually or corporately. And of course, it's got great talking points when it comes to international missions. "...in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth." We gotta do God's will in holy places, in familiar places, in places profane and places we haven't even heard of. Or even more personal...in our church, our families, with the dregs of society and with people you can't imagine how you'd ever meet. Neat.

I don't know if I'm in Judea, Jerusalem or Samaria. Isn't foreign hard to define? When Anna prayed for me that first day, I didn't understand any of the words that came out of her mouth, but I understood the sincerity and the love. When I hear church people in America talking, I know the words, but sometimes can't comprehend how they can be so passionate about who doesn't belong in church or what sort of music should be played in a service. Systems theory would call this the difference between process and content. I think it could be the difference between letting Christ guide what is essential and letting habit guide what is secondary, with the wrong amount of importance being attached to each. Hearing Martin and Anna talking about the impact of Christ in their lives feels more familiar than any discussion I've heard in English about gay marriage or communion scheduling.

Even with scanty English translations, screen-less windows and no fat-free foods, this place does not feel foreign and I do not feel like an outsider. I know why. I felt this thought clenching my heart while Anna prayed for me in Czech, "This is the body of Christ!"