june 2009 newsletter...
micah...
It all began in the first week of this month, when I was searching for an appropriate farewell gift for the four seniors who, with me, set up our new Honor Council. We had had a rough (but triumphant) couple months of seeing a long string of cases. We could feel the undercurrents at school beginning to pull in our direction. The student body has begun to accept that lying, cheating, and stealing are unacceptable. I particularly wanted to thank and inspire the boy who served as the Council's first President. Demonstrating a remarkable degree of impartiality combined with an impressive ability to suspend judgments until we gathered all the information, he set the tone for the Council. He and his brother also escaped from Afghanistan three years ago and are under the care of an Australian guardian now. His back bears the literal scars of his childhood. Perhaps these scars form the root of his deep passion for both justice and mercy.
Hunting around, I came across four sets of jeweler's scales that could stand on a desk. The longer I work trying to sift through complex cases and recommend appropriate consequences, the more I see the beauty of balancing mercy and justice, even when it seems impossible. And the only quality that makes these sorts of judgments anything other than self-righteous is when they are made in humility. So I combined the gift of scales with the familiar verse, Micah 6:8: For what does the Lord require of you? To act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God. None of the four seniors are believers, but especially in the case of the Afghani boy, I believe they are walking towards God in their efforts to be just and merciful. They had never heard this verse before. When I gave the gifts, I spent some time explaining their significance.
The next day, our Baccalaureate service was held. A chaplain who left the school two years ago, and who the students deeply respected, had been invited to speak. I was thrilled when he framed his whole address around Micah 6:8 and how these passions for justice, mercy, and humility are the marks of a righteous and fulfilled life. Sometimes, God orchestrates these little synchronicities in such precious ways that I experience to a new degree his personal caring for each of us. I prayed that those four seniors would listen with their whole hearts. Every year of teaching, as I watch the graduating class, I wonder whether I fulfilled my responsibility to them. I remember all the goals I had for them and sigh at my lack of accomplishment. My persistent hope, though, is that God uses us teachers as seed-planters. We don't necessarily get to see when the seed will sprout.
Unfortunately, and I bring this up with no small degree of hesitation, the day of Graduation brought a very different use of this same simple verse. Some difficult personnel decisions were made. The school is a small and intense community, and difficult decisions of this kind inevitably cause grief - even when they are the right decisions. To my dismay, I watched a faculty meeting disintegrate into a chaotic series of accusations against the administration. Divisive letters and emails that claimed to speak in the spirit of Micah 6:8 began spreading over the campus. When I left the school for my vacation, no real resolution had been reached. The whole affair simply made me sad. I am newly convicted about the dangers of claiming to speak for justice and mercy. From my best understanding of scripture, I am not permitted to publicly judge how others live up to the almost impossible task of acting justly, loving mercy, and walking humbly. I can only continually seek out these high callings and try to faithfully follow God in them.
I am now in Atlanta, till the 12th of July, and will spend more time with family until the 24th, when I head back to India. I can't explain the relief I felt to be worshipping again at St Paul's on Sunday. To be perfectly honest, I am nervous about what the new school year will hold. I love the students and see great fruit with them, but discovering my role in this intense kind of community has been tough. I struggle sometimes to understand what obedience looks like. Please pray that I will be strong enough to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with our God. I pray the same for you.
Your fellow pilgrim,
Amy