What is the main idea?

After spending hours working on a semester final for my sophomores with a fellow teacher, I was drained and ready for sleep.  We had spent all of this time trying to create the perfect final–the perfect blend of justice and mercy.  Our administration had instructed us to create higher level thinking questions and steer away from simple memorization.  The intention of the test was not to fail them all or make them have a heart attack but to help them wrap their arms around the semester.  And by writing the final, it helped me do the same.  We were constantly asking the question, “What is the main idea of this section?  If they forget everything else, what should they know about this?”  It was difficult to figure it out at times as we balanced desiring them to know the whole Bible and then honing in on what we saw as the main points.  In the end, it helped us to focus on what is more important.  The details seemed to matter less, some random Babylonian king’s name didn’t need to be recalled, and the class was, hopefully, boiled down to what they should absolutely know.  Was it more important for them to know what each of the Egyptian gods symbolized or that the plagues were a judgment on the gods themselves?  Was it crucial to know who the first king of Israel was or would it be better to know which king God made a covenant with?  The task was difficult because we kept desiring to hold onto these little details, sometimes at the expense of the larger idea.

On the drive home, I had an epiphany.  So often I get caught up in the little details of life, the mistakes and the missteps and forget about the main idea.  How much easier I could make my life if I went through it trying to remember, “What is the main idea?”  If instead of agonizing over the little aspects and focused on the main idea, the goal behind my life (to go to Heaven and be with God for eternity), how much simpler everything would seem.  It will be a struggle to wrap my mind around that and I will be need to be constantly made away of what really matters.  But it seems to me a good practice to develop, if I have but the stamina to do so.  Embrace the little details of life, wrap my mind around it all, and then surrendering it all to the Lord asking Him, “What is the main idea?”

Reminders

Some days I simply need to remind myself:

1) I cannot convert my own heart, let alone the hearts of my students.
2) They are not mine; I must give them to the Lord because only He can do what is needed.
3) I am flawed and in need of conversion, too.

"We have to go to Mass twice this weekend??!?"

It was third period when I realized that simply telling my students that tomorrow was a holy day of obligation wasn’t about to penetrate their beloved, thick skulls.  That is when I proceeded to write nearly every church in town on the board, personally look up their special Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception Mass times, and then give a spiel about this feast at the beginning of each class.  It caused me to realize something is very wrong with our list of priorities. 

Well, I more mean “their” priorities about this matter, but rest assured, mine are mixed up in simply a different way.  They told me that they couldn’t go to Mass because they had: a basketball game, play, work, anything and everything proved to be a valid excuse.  Some of their situations did sound like they would be difficult to navigate.  However, it struck me as sadly stereotypical of Americans when they began to ask if there was a specific Mass time as if they were picking which time to go to a movie.  Their schedules didn’t have time for Mass and it didn’t seem to be within the realm of possibilities for them to re-evaluate their schedules or perhaps forgo something.  The look of shock on their faces would have been surprising if I told them to skip their basketball game or miss set-up for play. 

“We have commitments.”  You are absolutely right.  You have a commitment to Christ and to follow His laws.  The Church is asking for you to go and receive Jesus, not give half of your wealth away tonight.  “What if we are going out of town?”  I responded with, “There are also churches out of town.”  After a brief reminder of the beauty of the universality of the Catholic Church we were moving onto other questions.  I told them that failure to attend Mass for both the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception and Sunday obligation would be a mortal sin.  I was mildly surprised by the look of shock and surprise on their faces.  Mortal sin?  Mortal sin? “Isn’t that the really bad one?  Like if you kill someone?”  In their minds this sin of missing mass is, well, they might not actually think of it as a sin.  It just doesn’t fit conveniently into their schedules and so they shouldn’t be burdened with trying to find a Mass.  These little incidents convinced me that we do not talk enough about sin.  I’m not evn certain they knew that it is a mortal sin to miss Mass any given Sunday. 

And I think to myself: what is the point of sending your children to Catholic schools if you don’t care to encourage that Catholic identity within them?  My students began to ask, in an almost accusatory fashion, why the school didn’t have Mass for them today to satisfy the obligation.  Code for: “Why must we now go out of our way to go to Mass?  Shouldn’t our Catholic school take care of that for us?”  Yes, I am probably leaning more into a rant now, but I think it is partially justified.  My seniors told me that they don’t think they have a spiritual battle going on right now because they go to Catholic school but later it will be a battle.  Yet when I gave them the hypothetical situation of a student who would go to daily Mass, adoration, and ask people to pray with them, they all agreed that the person should lay off the religion and be normal.  Then I told them that they are the ones who form the Catholic identity of the school.  I think I sounded rather brilliant and filled with passion, how I actually appeared to them, I don’t know.  But I did think it was important to remind them that they help determine how Catholic their school is.  

So, perhaps, I can shakily derive some sort of point from this jumble.  The priorities of our nation, of our world are nearly in shambles and are in dire need of alteration.  We no longer even feel a sense of duty to follow the set rules or requirements (if you want to look at them that way) of our religion.  Not that I endorse living under a feeling of guilt, but the “Catholic guilt” seems to be giving way to the pressures of secularism.  People don’t go to Mass on Sundays simply out of a feeling of duty, rather, they cease to go at all and don’t feel bad about it.  Perhaps this is where the crux of the moral problem is–we are simultaneously a society that is perpetually offended and yet one that doesn’t care at all. 

Hope?  Yes, I know I should end on a note of hope because there are a great number of movements within the Church that are reaching out and transforming society.  Despite the lackadaisical attitudes of many in society, there is good news and there is hope.  The Church is undergoing a purification.  The Spirit is moving and lives are being changed.  While I know my circle of friends and acquaintances might not be the measure of the average young adult, I have been encouraged by the number of religious vocations I know are being sought after and the young couples entering into matrimony.  Particularly the numerous couples I have heard who are now welcoming into their families children, even if they have been married for less than a year when the child is born.  Good things are happening.  I must remind my naturally pessimistic mind that.  Greater things are yet to come, greater things are still to be done in this…world.      

If only I was "The Giver"…

Sometimes I wish I wasn’t a teacher so much as “The Giver.”  Instead of hoping they will be open to what I have to say or open to a new experience, I want to give them something.  And I don’t want them to have the option to say no.  I suppose this is one of the reasons that if I was God, I would have done things remarkably different.  I wouldn’t have done them nearly as well, of course, but as a selfish human being I would make a selfish god.  I wouldn’t let people choose to love me or reject me.  I wouldn’t offer my very self only to have it pushed back in my face.  When I offer a mere piece of my heart to someone, be it a student or otherwise, and I feel it is rejected or not fully appreciated, I pull back and desire to not surrender any soft part of my heart to anyone.  My love is still very self-centered, still very egocentric, and feeling motivated.  I would want to force people to acknowledge my greatness as they should.  We should all thank God that I am not Him.

Even on behalf of God I desire to be “The Giver” and not simply allow free will be operative in the lives of my students.  Today I told my five classes that part of class tomorrow would be spent in adoration of the Blessed Sacrament.  For at least 15 minutes in each class, we will be before Jesus.  I know I am not naturally a very emotive person and so I purposefully over-emphasized my joy so that they could see how excited I was.  The looks on their faces varied from amusement at my obvious enthusiasm to dismay at the prospect of suffering through mandatory adoration. 

I was not so naive as to assume that every student of mine would leap for joy at the prospect of spending 15 minutes in the chapel tomorrow.  While I know some of my students are glad for the occasion, the general feel of nearly every class was a picture of unwilling surrender.  They aren’t excited for tomorrow but it is a necessary consequence of going to a Catholic school.  They must suffer unwillingly through monthly mandatory Masses, morning prayer over the intercom, dress code, Theology classes, and bi-annual adoration time and Reconciliation services.  Accepting that the system will not change for them, they are resolved to not reveal any joy that might betray their distaste for the religion that is forced upon them.  Yes, that is an exaggeration for some of the students, but, unfortunately, not for a sizable faction.  Some students will write that they wish they weren’t forced to take Theology classes or go to Mass every month and I wonder to myself what they thought Catholic school should be like.  If I was to ask them, the undesired answer might be, “Nonexistent.”

So as I tried to share my joy with my students, I also spent some time talking to them about why they dislike adoration or why they find it difficult/boring.  The answers I received weren’t altogether surprising but they did reveal an aspect of the culture that I find extremely troubling.  Among the top contenders for the most popular reasons why adoration isn’t a wonderful prospect is that their minds wander, they can’t think of what they should do, and it is boring.  However, the response that seemed to draw the most agreement was that they don’t like the silence and they find it awkward.  For 15 minutes they are asked to sit silently and pray.  I do not think the silence is so difficult because they long to talk to their friends, although that is certainly a temptation for them.  I believe the silence is so difficult because they are completely unaccustomed to it.  That is troubling.  We have an entire generation, an entire world that is inundating itself with so much noise and busyness that a few minutes of silence is awkward and difficult.  No wonder they ask me why they can’t hear God speak to them or why they don’t think God is listening to them.  They haven’t even paused to listen.  To really listen.  Because when I tell them they need to be quiet and listen to the Lord, they stop to do it for a minute but then any time beyond that seems superfluous.  One of my students said that adoration didn’t need to be so long, that he could say everything he needed to in about a minute.

I don’t have the time, it seems, to teach them this silence.  I, the introverted melancholic that I am who loves silence and solitude, cannot give them the joy of stopping and being still that I am blessed enough to have.  That is why I desire to be “The Giver” and simply bestow it upon them.  So that they may simply experience what it is that I mean and not just hear about it.  I want to make them see what adoration can be like if they allow themselves to be still.  While I can still their bodies and mouths, for the most part, I cannot reach in and still their minds and souls.  They can spend 15 minutes running from the Lord’s graces while I spend that same time praying for their hearts to be open.  Yes, I would override their free will and make them accept the Lord’s graces into their lives.  Ah, but there is the problem—would I mandate love for Love?  How much greater is the joy when a student, like a little rosebud, begins to open up to the truth that he is hearing and develops a greater desire for that life-giving truth.

While I cannot make them acknowledge the God who loves them so radically, I can continue to present the Truth to them.  And I can continue to grow in how I present this truth so as to make it more appealing and more palatable to their 21st century tastes.  How much this teacher has to learn!  I cannot give them the experience of peace in the arms of Our Lord, this is true.  However, I can give them my prayers through Our Lady and Our Lord.  And those, my friends, they cannot refuse.         

The Beauty of Not-New Friends

This week I had the privilege of being able to speak to a couple friends I hadn’t in a while.  As we were talking on the phone I realized how much I love friendships that are already formed.  Teaching has put me into contact with many new and wonderful people but making friends isn’t exactly my strong point.  I would much rather be with close old friends than off forming new relationships.  So as I spoke to my friends I was reminded of the joy of friendships that are already grounded, that I don’t need to put so much effort into because they just come naturally.  One of my conversations in particular was very good and I loved that despite the months of not talking, we were able to talk and talk with ease. 

One of the ways the Lord loves me is through friends like these.  Although I wish the love would be made evident by utterly surrounding me with these friends instead of having them be a phone call away, I am deeply indebted for the ways He touches my heart through others.  It teaches me to cherish these friendships and to not take that gift for granted.

Beautiful Son

Nearly every morning on the thirty minute drive to school, Jesus graces me with the beauty of a sunrise.  It is one of the things that makes the early morning drive a time of repeated wonder and awe.  As someone who is not naturally a morning person, these sunrises are little rewards that God gives me for waking up early.  I am thankful for them, even as I tell Our Lord that I love His sunrises, I just wish I didn’t have to see so many of them! 

The other day as I was driving and gazing at the gorgeous sunrise filled with hues that are impossible to describe, I was wondering if everyone else saw this sunrise with the same awe that I did.  The deep rose horizon was seamlessly blended into peach rays of light what showered the plains with life and light.  Every day was a new canvas to be filled with the genius of the Almighty and I wondered if every other car on the road saw the sunrise as I did.  Or did they just drive passed the beauty of it, too consumed in their own thoughts? 

For some reason this led me to think of Italy and Europe in general.  I spent a semester studying in Austria and traveling around Europe.  My experience there was one of continual amazement at all that the Lord creates and does.  It was three months of pure beauty.  In my mind, the people of Europe could never get bored with the magnificent architecture that surrounds them, or the glories of the European countryside which must in its very essence be more romantic than my homeland, or the antiquity that surrounds every step in Europe.  I realized during this morning drive that perhaps Europeans did not look at their countries with the same romantic idealism that I did.  Perhaps they do see a sunset at Cinque Terra and aren’t filled with awe and wonder at the immensity of God’s beauty. 

As I gazed across the Midwestern plains and the early morning sunrise, I thought about how this is one of the most beautiful places on earth.  The rolling plains spreading out lazily to the horizon, allowing one to see for miles and drink in the openness of the earth.  Sunlight kissing the barren trees and setting the world on fire with the dawn of another day.  Little pieces of Heaven if one but has the eyes to see them.  What a gift to experience such beauty, given so freely from the One who loves me best.

And if that is what God can do with mere clouds and light, imagine what He can do with beings made in His own image and likeness.  What immense beauty we could find there.

Testing….1, 2, 3….

Teachers have feelings.  Perhaps that shouldn’t be a surprise, but it wasn’t until I was a teacher (which began a whole 3ish months ago) that I realized how true that is.  Teachers have feelings.  Teachers do notice when that student is being disrespectful in the most annoyingly non-verbal way possible.  They do feel the slight when the student will hardly look at them for some unknown reason or slight.  And teachers do feel the greatness of the small compliments from students. 

Yesterday I gave a test to my seniors.  The overall feeling emanating from them was one of complete dissatisfaction and annoyance.  Well, perhaps not complete, but it was highly prevalent.  What was even more mystifying was how when I was creating this test I was intentionally trying to be as easy as I could possibly bring myself to be, which granted isn’t perhaps easy but I did feel as though I was giving them a helping hand.  Yes, I made the test a bit too long, but I gave them a word bank with only the words for the questions and all the words were used only once.  I thought I was going to feel so good grading a lot of wonderful tests and watching their slightly sagging grades be buoyed up by the test.  Yes…my high idealistic tendencies were quickly deflated as I watch a student look through his test and repeatedly shake his head at the test.  It was then at 8:25 am that I realized that perhaps this test wasn’t quite the piece of cake I envisioned it to be.  Nevertheless, I read through the test again and was reassured of my goodness.  This class doesn’t particularly like me so I can chalk it up to the fact that whatever I do will be ridiculous to them. 

By the time the final class of the day rolled around, the students had heard of the “impossible” test that I had given and how “nobody finished” before the bell.  So as my 8th period students muddled through the test, I began to type an e-mail to a fellow teacher to ask her what to do when I think I made my test too difficult.  As I was thinking of how to describe the situation after the bell rang and students were still finishing their test, a student turned in his test and quietly said, “I didn’t think it was that hard.”  It was my saving grace for the moment.  It reaffirmed my convictions that I wasn’t being ridiculous.  And I wished that I could give him a hug or tell him just how much that meant to me at that particular moment.  Instead all I said was, “Oh?  Good.” 

I know that my happiness and sadness cannot rest on the students or ride on what they think of me or what the hormones racing through their bodies are influencing them to do.  But I am realizing that just because I became a teacher doesn’t mean that I am magically transformed into an adult who can handle adolescent attitude with ease or knows how to pen perfect length tests.  Too often I am convinced that when I get to a certain point I will be radically different than I am now, that I will have it all together.  As a middle schooler I thought that would happen in high school.  In high school, I was convinced I would become the person I dreamed of being in college.  And, well, now I suppose I fall into the idea that as soon as I meet Mr. Wonderful and we fall in love and are married and have nine children and one on the way that then I will be exactly the person I am to be.  The truth is that I am constantly being transformed and being made into the person I need to be.  We are all works in progress.  But my idealistic view of myself may never really come into being because perhaps that creation of my imagination is not the person that God even desires to exist.  What a pity it would be to spend all of my time racing after an image that is created in my own mind and not striving to become the person of God’s own design.

So their test, by their standards, was long and hard, an impossible task that couldn’t be completed and one they didn’t really want to.  Perhaps that is a bit like life.  At times life seems to be a journey that is impossible to do correctly and one that seems to provide more challenges than seems right.  Yet maybe if we strove to not be so focused on the present crisis that seems to be making our world collapse and more on the overall picture of what God is doing in our lives, than we would be able to face our difficulties with the knowledge that just over the hill is rest, that on the journey we are strengthened with grace. 

Now that I think about it, my test wasn’t so similar to life.  Because with life we have the tremendous benefit of having an Omniscient God who loves us entirely, knows exactly what we need, and provides us inestimable aid along the way.  So perhaps this imperfect little teacher made a mistake.  The good news is that the Divine Teacher never does.

being balanced

As I was going to spend some time with friends from high school that I don’t see often, the Lord seemed to place a prayer on my lips of which I didn’t realize the depth until I had spoken it aloud in the car. 

“Lord, help me not to compromise myself simply to fit in.  Yet help me not emphasize my differences so as to stand out.”

Letting one’s light shine is a balancing act in itself.  I don’t want it to be a mere flicker that will die out soon, yet I don’t want it to be a spotlight that seeks to highlight everyone’s faults.  I’m seeking for balance without falling into mediocrity.

I’m in love…

I am in love with the most beautiful and brilliant person.  He loves me beyond my deserving and pursues my heart with all the tenderness of a Lover.  In the morning He graces me with a glorious sunrise and in the evening He makes the western skies so filled with vivid colors that I am in danger of running into the car in front of me on my way to Mass.  Then He embraces me in the warmth of the adoration chapel, whispering to my heart about the joys of being a member of the living Church, the Body of Christ.  He stills my mind with its many worries and concerns, drawing me into His very heart.  Then He lays down His life for me and offers me the best He has to offer, His very self.  My Love proceeds to sit with me, knowing that quality time is the way to love me best.  He has all of the time in the world for me.  In fact, He has beyond time–He has a timeless love that He strives to impart to me.  Soothing my fretting heart, consoling my desirous heart, wrapping me in His mantle of palpable divine love, He makes me long for forever with Him.  And Lover that He is, He stitches stars into the night sky for me to admire on my drive home.  I am in love with the most beautiful and brilliant person ever.  He has written His name on my heart–and it is Love.

Beyond Grades

Teaching is an interesting profession.  What I do is primarily judged by test and quiz scores and the single letter marked down on the transcripts of my students.  People come in to my classroom to observe me and see how well I teach.  But the interesting thing is that the heart of what I do, the depth of the relationship I have with some of my classes is witnessed only by myself.  When that observer enters the room, the mood changes and it is no longer the relationship that has been steadily forming.  That single letter inscribed on a transcript is not observant of the laughter that has been shared, the hours spent together, the prayers uttered to God on their behalf.  I do not teach perfectly and I do not know all of my students very well.  Yet there is this delightful feeling when I remember laughing with my classes even if I cannot remember what we were laughing about.  Maybe they forget far quicker than I do but I am still repeatedly amazed about what people refer to as my “job”.  I get to see over one hundred students every day and try to give to them part of the love that I have for the Lord.  And every day I mess up, yet every day is a new day to try again.  Nobody but the Lord can really see what I do or judge how effectively I do it.  Because I like to think that I am revealing to them something that I cannot test them on.  I prefer to think that the joy we share (at times) in the classroom is indicative of something deeper.  And I pray that someday I will be blessed enough to see the fruit of my labors, even if that day only comes in Heaven.