As is my tradition, in the next to last chapel of the school year, my middle school class did an activity recently called "Warm Fuzzies". Basically, we pass around papers with our name on the top for everyone else to write something uplifting or encouraging; the more specific the better. After everyone has written on each others' papers, we bask in the warmth of the words of friendship. I don't really know what the fuzzy part is, but I guess that doesn't matter.
For the 2014-15 school year, we did this activity last Friday, and I received a compliment from a 13 year old 7th grader that made my day. Heck, it made my year. She wrote, "You do things outside of the box. In fact, you don't even know where the box is!"
To appreciate this statement to its fullest, you'd need to know that the author, Abby, is one of the most unique kids I've ever taught. While she struggles with reading and writing, she excels at creative ways of displaying her learning. whether art, dance or verbally sharing unique insights, she continually shows her intelligence and ability to think deeply about things. But this intelligence is often overlooked when traditional means of assessment are utilized (In other words, tests, exams, essays...) Nothing feels better as a teacher than knowing my particular way of doing things has worked really well for someone.
Coincidentally, I had just preached at our home church recently, and one of my points was about 'the box'. (I need to add that Abby doesn't go to our church and didn't know about my sermon when she wrote those words.) I told the congregation that God doesn't want us doing ministries outside of the box,, because even then the box is still in view. We can jump back in at the first indication of a struggle. Instead, God wants us to burn the box. I likened it to the fact that I didn't learn to swim until my wife taught me at the age of 27. So even now, when I'm swimming in the deep end, I always make sure the edge of the pool is within arm's reach. The fact is, I'm still not confident in deep water, and people who are still not comfortable working 'outside the box' usually make sure that it's within arms reach. This isn't working outside the box any more than I'm really swimming in deep water.
Burning the ministry box - whether teaching, parenting, or sharing the Gospel through juggling - means having no preconceived expectations of what to do; only goals that we intend to reach. That means if students aren't able to visualize an atom through the illustrations in the text, let them become the atom. It means if, while juggling at a summer camp chapel service and I notice there's a beautiful rainbow outside, I need to stop the show and let the entire audience go outside for a while to enjoy the sight. It means if our daughter thinks she might want to become a missionary, we let her miss the first month of her senior year in high school so she can live in a Kenyan orphanage.
Don't get me wrong, my wife and I live a pretty normal life most of the time: paying bills, watching TV, going to recitals. But we want to follow a Savior who never limited himself or his followers to 'the box'; The Jesus who healed one guy by rubbing mud on his eyes, and another guy by telling him to wash in the filthy waters of Siloam. The same Jesus who taught in parables wrapped in enigma, then preached straight forward sermons a child could understand. The same Jesus who healed the severed ear of someone seeking to kill him, and produced tax money from a fish's throat. The same Jesus who said we had to die to live. The same Jesus who willingly died and came out of the grave to defeat death. The grave did not hold him in, and because we have an out-of-the-box Messiah, we will spend eternity out of the box of the tomb. We may not even remember where that box is.