Halfway through the school year, I was asked to step into the elementary school principal role in an acting capacity to cover for a medical leave. I am sure it must have felt like a jarring experience for our teaching team to have their leader abruptly taken from them, or worse-yet, like one of the stage managers was temporarily covering for one of the main actors or actresses. It was a year of change not only for our school community, but one that has taught me hope, empathy, and resilience.
In this blog post, I reflect on what it means for Christian leaders to serve in “acting” or “interim” capacities and how Jesus’ ministry of interruption is a means by which we learn humility and empathy, better equipping us to serve our communities to the best of our God-given capabilities.
Shifting Identity: From Actor to Acting Roles
When I stepped into the role, at first, I envisioned my responsibility as something akin to a substitute or backup player on a sports team—a sixth person, subbed in to relieve a starter or to fill in a gap. This analogy resonated with me because it allowed me to maintain a degree of tentativeness about my role. I had always said I would not touch the principal role with a 39-and-a-half-foot pole; I wanted to have an impact on how people learned and not manage people or their problems. I felt like I was wired as a curricular leader and currently serve as the K-12 Director of Instruction & Christian Formation at my Christian school.
I had to wrestle daily with the conscious feeling of being watched by everyone from colleagues to families. I wondered what they thought about someone more like an assistant coach or manager donning the jersey and leading “their” team.
As I reflect now, I realize the limitations in my perspective of what God had been calling me into as a leader, not based on position, title, or set of actions, but as one who is called to play a part for the well-being of the community to the best of my abilities. This shift in how I perceived myself versus how others may have perceived me sparked an internal journey of self-examination and growth in my role as a leader. I reflect on this journey to encourage others who are filling in on an acting or interim basis and making sense of their Christian identity as leaders.
It became apparent after the first week of shifting into my acting role what the “acting” title meant. I had staff members come to me for situations that I really had never encountered. Sometimes those conversations appeared to go well. And other times, I had to apologize for aspects that I got wrong or processes with staff and where I did not reflect Christ in my discernment.
One of the things that I found to help support our educational staff was asking them what sort of conversation we were having, essentially determining whether the need they had was related to change, conflict, collaboration, or coaching. I developed a model that I share here that helped me identify when I was overstepping. In such cases the model helped direct me back to serving as a way of honoring the knowledge and practices that were already present in the staff team. I hope it will appear soon with further description in a forthcoming publication.
Jesus’ Ministry of Interruption
Now that the journey is completed, I am reflecting on my experiences from the past six months, and I find myself wrestling with questions of identity, leadership, and service, all while holding the indeterminant feelings of “how long” and “can I really do this” and “do I need to prove myself?” It reminded me that Jesus’ ministry was not one of “disruption” but of moments filled with “interruptions.” Moreover, these interruptions were not detracting from the mission but were an act of faithfulness and obedience to the mission itself.
One of my favourite examples of Jesus’ ministry of interruption is in Luke chapter 8. Jesus is traveling around between towns and villages proclaiming the kingdom of God (8:1-21), crossing the lake leading to the region of Gerasenes (8:22), encountering people and healing (8:26-39), leading his disciplines (8:1-53), making his way to a crowd that was waiting for him (8:40), and meeting a man named Jairus who was a synagogue leader (8:41). Jairus came to Jesus to heal his dying daughter, which Jesus eventually does following the interruption within the interruption (8:49-56). In the indeterminant time between vv. 41 and 49, Jesus is interrupted by a woman who had been bleeding for twelve years, and his response was to heal the woman. As I began to think about this interruption in my family life, career, and the impact on completing my doctoral studies, an important realization hit me: interruptions expose the heart.
At the heart of these narratives lies some truths for humility and servant leadership. One of the key passages that anchored me during this time was John 3:30, where John the Baptist, despite having his own following, declares, “He must become greater; I must become less.” John’s words are filled with humility, a recognition that his role was temporary and that Christ was the one who should be exalted. This role was temporary and while filling the need brought joy, relationships, and perspective with our elementary team, I have also been filled with joy to step back into my K-12 Director role with this new awareness of self.
This verse echoes in my own journey as a leader. When stepping into someone else’s role, the temptation to assert control or make a lasting impression can be strong. However, true leadership in a Christian sense means allowing others—including Christ—to become greater, while we grow in humility. It means recognizing the bigger picture and the greater work God is doing through others, even as I play my part.
The Blessing of Serving out of Partial Knowledge
The principle of “becoming less” also led me to reflect on Philippians 2:3-4, which calls us to “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.” I had to lean into the knowledge and expertise of my colleagues and even the students, many of whom understood day-to-day nuances better than I did. For instance, when students came to me with a question about whether they were allowed to pick weeds from the dirt soccer field, my initial instinct was to dismiss the request as unimportant. Yet, when I took the time to engage with them and their teachers, I realized there was more context and more at stake than I initially thought. The small sprouts of green on the back field symbolized life, play, and friendship for those Grade 2 students. The experience underscored that leadership is not about having all the answers but about encountering people in ways that make others feel seen, heard, and cared for.
One of the unexpected blessings of my time in this role was growing in my appreciation for my colleagues and the systems already in place. Our elementary school principal had cultivated an incredible sense of community and connection within the school. It became evident how much work went into maintaining this community and how well it was documented. As I led, I became more aware of the intricate systems, routines, and relationships that sustained this community. This experiential awareness deepened my respect for the leadership that had gone before me and humbled me in my attempts to fill the role.
I also learned the importance of living with partial knowledge—acknowledging that I didn’t always have the full picture but would seek guidance from others before making decisions.
Embracing Growth in Leadership
Ultimately, I learned that Christian leadership is not about holding control or asserting authority. It is about serving others with humility and not acting out of selfish ambition. It also reaffirmed for me that leadership is a constant process of growth in empathy, understanding, and humility.
In this phase of my life, I find deep contentment in managing my current responsibilities and continuing to grow in my work. The lessons of this leadership experience—humility, servant-heartedness, and the willingness to become less so that others may become greater—will stay with me as I continue my journey in Christian education, irrespective of position.
In the end, stepping into leadership, for however brief a time, is not about proving oneself, but about becoming more Christ-like. It’s about making space for others to thrive and for Christ to be exalted in our work and communities.
In fact, theologically speaking, interruptions are the means by which God has taught me empathy and humility, making me a more reflective educator. The incarnation is God’s great interruption in the story of humanity, breaking into humanity with a new way of living and being in the world, inviting right relationship with God leading to relationship with others, self, and the rest of creation.
One Final Thought About Humility
I’ll never forget what one of the principals shared with me on the first day of my new teaching career: Humility is like underwear; everyone wants to know you have it, but no one wants to see it. My principal went on to share about the correlation of humility to the belt of truth (Eph. 6:14). It seems simple but is a statement that I am least humble when I am insecure.
I have learned the value of listening, the importance of collaboration, and the strength that comes from collective commitment to growth. I feel incredibly grateful and humbled by my community. It has taught me that humility lies not in hiding our insecurities but in embracing interruptions as opportunities for preserving and sustaining integrity.
