I mowed my yard Saturday. 

I know, right? Sound the trumpets and shoot the fireworks! That’s some exciting news right there! 

Surprisingly, it was not really the act of mowing that is noteworthy here. It is instead my complete mastery of the art of mowing to which I wish to draw your attention. 

Yes, it’s true; I have been performing this task for at least 60 years now, taking only the occasional week off here and there for traveling or sickness. And yes, it is also true that the mowing task is not really all that complex… even when you include the mandatory pre-mow pickup of dog poop and the exquisite weed-whacking around the edges of the lawn.

The end result Saturday was pure art, if I must say so myself.

Engaging in that quotidian task (which certain, less informed folks would classify as a “chore”) did pay another, unexpected dividend, however. It allowed me to take a thoughtful inventory of all the other areas of mastery I have achieved in lo, these 73.5 years of life on Planet Earth.

Ready? Here is the list:

• Shaving
• Driving a car (but do NOT attempt to verify that one with Joan)
• Shoe tying
• Grilling (please DO attempt to verify that one with Joan)

That’s pretty much it. 

In just about every other endeavor in life, I still feel like a student. 

At the end of twenty years of ordained ministry, I left feeling as if I was just kind of barely beginning to get the feel of it. As a homeowner and landscaper, I am in first… maybe second… grade. When it comes to the artistic pursuits I enjoy – writing, guitar playing, singing – I am still sitting in the far back corner of the classroom. 

In fact, I just watched a YouTube video about the right way to swing a softball bat. This despite having played the game for over 40 years now. 

It could be that I am not really all that bright. It could also be that I don’t retain information well. What I would prefer to be the case, though, is a thesis suggesting that most of life is like a gigantic onion, with layers and layers, and layers waiting to be peeled back, revealing new, as yet unexplored dimensions of even the simplest practices. 

Please calm my fears and tell me it’s THAT answer!

OK. I will lay aside the charade for a moment and confess that I believe strongly in the “life is a giant onion” thesis rather than the “Russell is dense” proposition… although there is plenty of evidence to support the latter.

This is one of the reasons I worry about the rise of Artificial Intelligence. Yes, it can produce amazing syntheses of vast sums of data in a nanosecond. And yes, it can summarize entire fields of literature in a few concise columns. But I wonder if AI will cause us all to prioritize the END of learning over the JOURNEY? Is there danger that artificial intelligence will completely destroy the concept of apprenticeship in any area of life?

I will also confess that Christ-following is where I feel the most pressing need for apprenticeship in my life. I trust and believe the words of the late Dallas Willard who said, “There is no problem in human life that apprenticeship to Jesus cannot solve.” And yet, I continue to feel as if I am still at the Jesus Apprentice Pre-Klevel even after all these years.

Some days, honestly, it feels as if I am moving BACKWARD in Jesus School instead of FORWARD.

Let’s face it: there is not a handy 10-step manual for Jesus Apprentices, or a community college course in Discipleship (unless you want to count the four stories of his life found in the Bible’s New Testament) available to us. Actively and intentionally following Jesus is a dynamic learning journey, encompassing every conversation, interaction, and relationship of my life. 

It is much more about a general condition of my heart rather than any specific word or behavior. And therein lies the rub. As the writer of Proverbs reminds us, “All deeds are right in the sight of the doer, but the Lord weighs the heart.” (Proverbs 21:2, New Revised Standard Version, Updated).

So, what is a clumsy, flawed, flailing, feeble Jesus apprentice to do? How will I ever measure up? What can I do to gain that diploma I long to hang on the wall of my office? Is all lost?

It is at that moment when Jesus – being the wise, compassionate Master Teacher he is – smiles down on my shaky, meager form and says, “No, Russell. There is nothing more for you to do. I’ve done it all already… for you and for everyone else. Just open your arms wide and receive the gift of forgiveness and new life I offer you here today.”

Thank you, Jesus. I really needed that.

Abundant blessings;