The Truth That Shall Make Us Free

. . . using a teacher's tools of hospitality, discipline, and imagination

In an earlier post I mentioned how important teaching has been to me over the years, partly because to be a good teacher I’ve had to keep learning, and I want to keep learning. I’ve had some great teachers over my lifetime who have exemplified several teaching strengths: hospitality, discipline, and imagination.

When I became ordained to pastoral ministry, Maggie, a childhood friend whom I had known through college, sent me a wonderful present, a hand carved and burnished mahogany mobile of Jonah sitting like Rodin's "The Thinker" inside the belly of a whale. What a terrific present! Not only because it was unique and beautiful, but also because it was carved by someone Maggie and I thought the world of, our Sunday school teacher, Ted Weissinger. What I especially remember about Ted was how hospitable he was. I used to ask him questions like: "Is it fair for God to condemn Buddhists just because they happened to have been born in a faraway land where they didn't hear about Jesus?" Such questions never flustered Ted, never made him irritable or bossy. He would either give me his best shot or confess that he didn't have an answer and encourage me to find one for myself at the library.

An ancient desert monk by the name of Abba Felix once said that to teach is to create a hospitable space in which the truth can be practiced. That's what Ted did, he created a hospitable space in his class. Parker Palmer, an eminent Quaker teacher, writes:

To study with a teacher who not only speaks but listens, who not only gives answers but asks questions and welcomes our insights, who provides information and theories that do not close doors but open new ones, who encourages students to help each other learn--to study with such a teacher is to know the power of a learning space.

Isaiah 50:4 speaks of hospitable teaching in terms of speaking sensitively and listening compassionately. The prophet writes:

The Lord God has given me the tongue of a teacher, that I may know how to sustain the weary with a word. Morning by morning he wakes my ear to listen as those who are taught.

In other words, to listen to students so intently that you know what it is like to have their ears, so that you will then know how you are being heard.

Teachers, do you know how precious teaching with hospitality is to young people?

I taught sailing as a volunteer in Miami for an organization called Shake-a-Leg which helped mentally and physically challenged persons to achieve self-confidence, and children-at-risk to learn self-respect and teamwork. Over one weekend I had in my crew four teen-age boys from a reform school and their policeman custodian. The policeman was volunteering his time to keep the boys out of gangs. To be hospitable I struck up a conversation with one of the boys: "Juan, I heard that there will be sports in this program. Which sport do you plan to take?" He looked at me with a stunned expression. Since his native tongue was Spanish, I thought perhaps he hadn't understood me, so I spoke more slowly: "You will have a chance to play a sport in this program, Juan. Which sport do you plan to take?" Finally, after another long pause, he answered:

Nobody in my whole life has ever talked to me about planning anything.

I don't know which of us was more stunned. How tragic, that a boy as old as Juan had never experienced the teaching hospitality of a caring adult. I thought to myself, maybe it was such neglect that led to the Littleton mass shooting. The teaching gift of hospitality says, "I care about you. I want to hear what you're thinking and feeling. Talk to me!"

Discipline, the second mark of an excellent teacher, tempers hospitality and keeps it healthy. After all, some students want too much of a good thing. On his internet home page young Justin Walker wrote:

The ideal teacher would let us do almost anything. . .He wouldn't give us any homework. He would give everyone in the class an "A", and he wouldn't take it away. The ideal teacher would bring in a boom box and some cool CD's for us to listen to. He would have a soda machine in his class, so we could buy sodas and drink them in class. This teacher would have a really good personality. He would always be nice and never be in a sour mood.

That's not at all how I remember my second most admired teacher, Mrs. Dill, who taught me English literature and composition. "The Hawk," we used to call her. She wouldn't let you get away with anything! She had a withering stare, but most of us knew that it came from tough love. Experienced teachers know that if you want to get anything done in class, you have to maintain a modicum of control, keep students on task. On a morning to honor teachers at the church where my family worshiped, my younger son got up to say a nice word about his Sunday school teacher. He said: "What subject shall we digress from this year, Mr. Page?" Ah yes, a modicum of control is necessary. But Mrs. Dill’s class showed me that's not what discipline is about at the deepest level. It’s about showing students how to discipline themselves. It's not about controlling them; it's about empowering them so that they can get used to hanging in there when the going gets tough.

Teachers, have you ever experienced a moment when your students, trying to grasp a new way of seeing things, needed much more than a readiness to open their minds to a new concept? A moment that exposed and tested who you were, and who they were, so that in a sense, you all became the subject matter? Such a moment requires deep spiritual discipline. Parker Palmer explains that the goal of good teaching is not to make "learning painless but rather to make the painful things possible, things . . .like exposing ignorance, . . .challenging false or partial information, and sustaining mutual criticism." Such moments, when we are not just taking in new information but opening ourselves to change, these are the times when the going gets tough; and these moments require a deep spiritual discipline that holds out for more than civility; for indeed what you and I and all our students want is the truth that shall make us free.

For the Apostle Paul, deep spiritual discipline comes from being inspired by the spirit of Jesus. Spiritual discipline is not a process or technique to be acquired like any other subject matter. Spiritual discipline becomes possible only by welcoming the spirit of Jesus into one's life, as Paul had done. Then, the wisdom of Jesus begins to dwell in oneself, and a transformation occurs that eventually enables one to use Jesus as the measure of what is helpful and not helpful in relating to others. This is what Paul means where he urges us that whatever we do, we should do it in the name of Jesus. This becomes possible for those who have invited the spirit of Jesus to dwell in them. If we want to be good teachers, we must undergo this spiritual transformation so that we will have the self-discipline to be with others when learning and changing get really tough.

Finally, imagination, such a marvelous gift it is! When Presbyterian pastors, elders, and deacons are ordained they take this vow: I promise to "serve the people with energy, intelligence, ­imagination, and love."

Teachers should take that vow, too.

Would that my history teachers, early in my education, had shown some imagination! I never took much interest in the subject because they taught history as a string of names, dates, and places which I had to memorize and keep in the proper sequence. That isn't history! Unfortunately, I didn't discover that until I was almost thirty years old and I studied under Professor Ford Battles in seminary. This was his first assignment: Imagine that you are a major figure during the first four centuries of Christian history. Write a letter to another major figure of that period whom you would have known. Express your ideas and feelings in this letter, as well as the events which the letter concerns. Make your character come alive. Make the letter real. Use your imagination, but don't B.S. about the details. Do your research painstakingly. I will know if you've done your homework!

What a terrific assignment! It was fun! Through it I discovered that history is the interpretation of events, and that there is considerable room for various interpretations. I have never looked at history in the same old dull way again.

Sometimes, though, Christians are afraid of using their imagination, for they behave as if there were only one valid interpretation of the faith. In Christian education, such a fearful and hidebound approach is devastating. It dissuades some seekers from ever meeting Jesus in the first place and wearies many of the faithful who can find no way to keep the faith as they grow and change.

Consider this gospel story (Luke 5: 17-20) in terms of imagination: One day, while Jesus was teaching, Pharisees and teachers of the law were sitting close around him. They were packed together, shoulder to shoulder, so that no one could get through the phalanx of eminent scholars. There was a man on the outside of the circle who desperately needed to be healed, but he couldn't get through to Jesus. He had two friends there to help him, but even they couldn't make it through. Then, one of the helpers said, "I know! We'll bust a hole in the roof! There's more than one way to Jesus." And so, they did. They broke a hole in the roof and lowered the seeker down, so that at long last he managed to touch Jesus and was healed.

Teachers, I hope that you're not among the know-it-all pundits who keep seekers from coming into contact with the spirit of Jesus. I hope that you'll use your imagination, and bust a hole in the roof if necessary. Don't be afraid of imagination! It’s a divine gift. It allows us to make contact with what is beyond the ken of our senses. It helps us interpret our dreams. It helps us visualize a hopeful outcome when all around there is only constriction and despair. Use your imagination!

Hospitality, discipline, imagination. These spiritual gifts are tools of a teacher’s trade. Be grateful for them. And take pride in your calling. Be aware that a teacher's work is like that of an orchard keeper, who lovingly plants, waters, fertilizes, and cultivates her trees, but may not live long enough to taste the full fruit of her labor, which are bountiful harvests, feeding generations to come.

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— TCDavis