I find that
I’m frequently tempted to share experiences of my earlier working life as an illustration
of some semi-relevant point at our weekly men’s breakfasts. The other week I regaled my friends with a tale
of time-recording. I can’t now recall
how it related to our discussion, but I was amused to find that, when I
returned home, my own daily Bible reading directed me to the story of Jesus’
sending out the seventy-two ‘other’ disciples (Luke ch. 10).
To explain
this amusement, let me begin with the story I told. Some forty years ago I was a keen young cost
clerk, and one of my responsibilities was the analysis of hours worked on the
shop-floor as recorded on coloured clock-cards.
When a new employee arrived, it was the normal practice that he would
spend the first week or so alongside experienced workers to learn the processes
by their side. While they were doing
this, their time was analysed to ‘training’.
On this occasion, I was aware of some new employees, but had detected no
time that had been shown for them as ‘training’. I taxed the supervisor with this apparent
oversight.
“Training?”
he replied with a smile, “They don’t need a lot of training. They start at 8.0 as raw recruits, and by
lunchtime they’re semi-skilled operators!” What I hadn’t realised was that, because it was holiday time, there weren’t
sufficient skilled men for them to work alongside, and these new arrivals were
working as part of a standard eight-man team, almost from the word ‘go’. As I read from Luke’s Gospel, I thought of
those disciples, going off two by two, and wondered whether they felt like raw
recruits, or if they had the confidence of semi-skilled evangelists. Certainly they returned with feelings of
achievement (Luke 10:17), but in the next verse Jesus warned them to remain
focussed on the real aim of the exercise.
John devoted
many chapters of his Gospel to Jesus’ final instructions to the disciples
before his Crucifixion and ultimate departure from them. He reminded them of the importance of constantly
being aware of His presence in their lives, and how this virtually guaranteed
the success of their mission in the world.
“If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from
me you can do nothing” (John 15:5).
Paul, in his letter to the Philippians, expresses the same philosophy,
but from the opposite direction, “I can do all this through Him who gives me
strength” (Phil. 4:13).
This poses
some important questions for us, of course. What kind of trainees are we? Firstly, do we know what it is that we’re
supposed to be doing? I confess that’s
one I often ask myself! Do we go about
our work with confidence? Or are we the
sort of trainee who reads the manuals from cover to cover and learns all the scripts,
but when it comes to the actual situation, we don’t see which page is being
acted out before us? Are we more like
those new employees who found themselves part of the team on their first day,
without a skilled man beside them to watch and to copy?
My advice is
to identify prominent Christians who clearly achieve success alongside humility,
and follow in their footsteps, rather like that servant of King Wenceslas, who
was told, “Mark my footsteps, good my page, tread thou in them boldly.” But (not to forget Paul’s example of
exploring truth from another direction), here’s an important warning: when one
is known as a disciple, one should ensure that one’s steps are worthy of being
followed!
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