Relay For Life

Last weekend I was walking around the high school track with Sandy, during the Relay for Life. We were walking slowly, reading the names on the luminaries when it hit me. One month and 13 years ago I spent two weeks in Aurora, Colorado, with most of my family, sitting with my sister who was dying from cancer that had metastasized in her brain. On August 7 of 2000, just a week short of her 49th birthday, she passed away. It seems strange to say, but in many ways those two weeks were amazing. It is not often that we are able to gather around our loved ones before they die. Too often death happens without warning and we are left with regrets - things undone and things unsaid. But we had time to say the things we needed and wanted to say. We had time, as a whole family, to cry together and laugh together and affirm our love for one another. It was powerful, and, strangely, it was a blessing.

In the midst of tragedy, our family bonded together like never before and God was at work in ways that I would have never anticipated. In me I was questioning my faith, in good ways mostly. I prayed in ways I had never prayed before. I remember holding my sister’s hand while she lay unconscious in her bed. On the outside I talked to her, hoping she could hear and understand me, but inside I was talking to God and it was all kind of surreal. I don’t know if my sister found any comfort in that, but I did. God granted me a sort of peace that I had not experienced before, because I never needed it before. From the beginning of the two weeks to the time I came back home, I changed. My faith changed. I can’t say that I understood all the questions why, any better, but the answers didn’t matter so much because I understood that God was in control. For the non-Christians in my family, things were much different when they got home, and they think about that time much different even today. For them there was no peace. There was no forgiveness and no greater purpose. For them there was bitterness and anger and resentment. Several months later, I heard from my brother-in-law - he had given his life to Christ and wanted me to know. For the non-Christians in my family, that brought no comfort and in some ways it seemed to compound the resentment. But for me and for my parents there was rejoicing that God made something beautiful out of something that seemed so painful. For me it affirmed my sense that He was in control all along.

I thought also of my Dad, who lost his battle with cancer seven years ago. Again, we were blessed with the opportunity to gather as a family, to say the things we wanted to say, to cry together and laugh together. And again God taught me about His peace and the way that he was in control. This time he taught me about the church - that it is far more than just a building and a place to worship on Sundays. God taught me that often my judgements about people are misplaced and what I see on the surface is not always a good representation of what He is doing inside of them. The church I grew up in, the church that I had developed a certain distaste for, did amazing things for my dad and my mom and for all of us. They cared for both my mom and dad when my sister and I were not able. They brought food, they ran errands and they came just to make sure there wasn’t anything else that was needed. They spent sleepless nights by my dad’s bedside when my sister and I could not be there, so my mom could rest. They embrace our whole family and extended family and made us part of their church family. They loved us and served us and sacrificed for us without any expectations.

I learned again, that God was in control in ways that were far beyond my understanding.

I remembered my sister, Pam, and my dad as I walked and there was still sadness in my heart, but there was also peace. God reminded me that he is in control - he was then, he is now and he will always be.

the Explicit Gospel

On my bookshelf in the basement I have a section set aside for the books that have had significant, long-lasting impact on my faith and/or how I view or live my life. In the past few months I have added two books to that shelf. 

If you know me at all, or read much of my writing, you know that I have a certain disdain for the often thoughtless language we use in the Christian community (including when I use it). We tend to throw around many words that simply identify us as being part of the group or make us sound “spiritual,” but the way we use them often betrays the true meaning of the words. Often we simply mimic the use of words as we have heard them from others in our Christian group, but we haven’t taken the time or made the effort to understand the implications of what is being said. If we were to look carefully at the “Christian” language that we use, I suspect that we would find our language reflects our ignorance - the direct result of our unwillingness to read, to study, and to seek understanding, or sometimes the more subtle result of understanding our faith through the tainted filter of American culture.

One such word that is often used loosely, is the word “Gospel.” Both the word itself and the implications of the word are frequently misunderstood, even amongst long-time Christians and/or misused in our conversations and statements about our faith. Sometimes this misunderstanding and misuse is out of ignorance, but sometimes it is a reaction of dissatisfaction with the church and how it has traditionally responded (or not) to the gospel. Trying to react in a more appropriate way to the gospel may be well-intentioned, and have a powerful impact on those involved, but the end result sometimes distorts the true meaning of the gospel. The response to the gospel is not the same as the gospel itself.

If we are not careful, all of this can lead to a bit of confusion about the gospel and what, exactly, the gospel message is about. It can cause us to act in well-intentioned ways, but confuse our actions with the true gospel itself. Breaking through the cloudiness of this issue is Matt Chandler’s book, the Explicit Gospel. In a readable, methodical, precise way, Matt Chandler details the message of all scripture which culminates in gospel. Along the way he touches on the dangers of overemphasizing certain aspects and responses to the gospel at the expense of the others and dispels misuses and misunderstandings.

The Explicit Gospel has opened my eyes to my own misunderstandings and has caused me to re-orient my thinking and my response to the gospel. It filters out the catch phrases and the pollution of American culture (which we don’t even realize has so greatly influenced our thinking) to explain what is the very basis of our faith. It confirms in the reader correct belief while surgically removing error. It encourages appropriate response for the right reasons. It reminds us of the reason to have hearts of gratitude. It refreshes a thirst to do what brings glory to God. 

All of this makes the Explicit Gospel one of the most important, must-read books of recent time and it will cause you to read scripture with eyes that are more open to the truth before you.

Teacher Integrity

I just finished a week of training in Ohio for a class I will be teaching this next school year. I joined 17 other teachers under the instruction of two other educators who had extensive experience with curriculum. This post is not at all about the training itself, but one element of the experience that I still find troubling, an issue that has been troubling me all year.

Near the beginning of the last school year I had a blog post voicing some frustration over the near paranoia that schools are experiencing with teachers having contact with students outside of the classroom. In our district we had been directed to disconnect from our students and former students as much as possible. We were told not to initiate phone calls or texts with students (whether past or present). If we responded to a text message to a student we were instructed to include our principal in the exchange. If we answered or returned a phone call from a student, we were told to notify our principal. Of course giving rides to students was forbidden as well. And lastly, we must "unfriend" students on Facebook and deny requests to be their friends.

There is a degree of reasonableness to all of this, I understand. Ultimately, the district is trying to protect teachers, students and itself, from inappropriate associations. I get that. But I changed jobs 8 years ago so I could live in the same community where I taught. I was tired of only seeing my students during the school day and not being able to connect with them outside of class. Living where I teach provides me the opportunity to know my students (and former students) as friends, as neighbors, as participants in the youth group in our church. Living where I teach has allowed me to teach the friends of my children, to see my students in the grocery store and around town at a wide variety of events. It has allowed me to attend sporting events and concerts of students. It has given me the chance to be a part of special events alongside my students and I have even been able to do short term mission trips with my students. In short, living in the same community where I teach allows me to know students and former students outside of the classroom and it allows them to know me.

But here is the problem...

While at training this week, I was reminded of why school administrators may not want students to know their teachers outside of the classroom. Teachers are often different people when they are not in the confines of a school. I was appalled this last week at the language that was deemed acceptable during our training. Vulgarity and profanity were common and only once did I hear an instructor make any attempt to stifle it (and it was a very weak attempt). Instead instructors often found the language humorous and, apparently, appropriate for our situation. Throughout the time there were also references to drinking and inappropriate sexual conduct that received more than a fair share of laughs. While this language did not dominate each day, it was, nonetheless, common and accepted. I can't imagine any of the teachers allowing that to occur in their classrooms with their students, but for some reason, in a class of "adults" the language is allowed to change. I did not participate in evening meals out (I was a late addition to the class and spent my evenings trying to get caught up), but, from conversations about previous evenings, it was clear that drinking was a part of the nightly fare. I can't speak to excessive drinking, but joking comments about getting drunk and being drunk were made. Whether those were completely in jest, or not, I can't say.

My point to all of this is to simply say that after the training was finished, I was sadly reminded of why such seeming paranoia can overcome a district. Do I want my son or daughter to see their teacher drunk or even drinking? Do I want them to hear their teacher tell dirty jokes? Do I want them to view the teachers' filthy language or questionable pictures on Facebook? Do I want my kids to see that teachers have different expectations of their students than they are willing to conform to themselves? Some might not see a problem in all of that, after all, they are just being "real" and students should be okay seeing that. But if being "real" is acceptable out of the classroom, why isn't being "real" acceptable in the classroom?

I got into teaching because I wanted to have a positive influence on the students I taught, but I never believed that the influence should only be isolated to the classroom. I have always wanted my students to see me as a man of integrity (not just a teacher of integrity), both in and out of the classroom. If they see me in the grocery store, I want them to know that what they see in me and what they hear from me, will be consistent with what they see and hear in the classroom. When my son or daughter's friends come to our home, I don't want them to be surprised by what they see and hear, I want them to be reassured that I am still the same. When the neighbors see me in the yard or walking my dog, I want them to see the same person that they would see at my school.

A teacher once told me how nice it was to live out of town from the school where he taught, so he could just be himself without fear of his students observing him. My heart sunk when I heard that said out loud, even though I had actually observed it lived out for many years. I cringe when teachers find such a double life not only acceptable, but normal and even expected. Because of that, districts try to shield students from seeing the truth of teachers' double lives. Because personal integrity (in and out of the classroom) and moral consistency are no longer expectations of teachers, or even in society as a whole, we must put up barriers to shield our students from seeing beyond the school day. What a sad statement about where education has gone.

It is no longer the expectation that a teacher or a coach or an advisor should be a role model for students. Instead we expect that the job of a teacher or a coach, is only about the subject that they teach. It is about communicating the right information, about passing tests and winning games. Sadly, the job of a teacher or a coach no longer has a moral calling, it has become just another job and students must look elsewhere for role models.