Category Archives: Education

Books, Education, Meditation, observation

Why Do I Have To Read This?

2 Comments

I can’t remember every title on those high school required reading lists, but here are some of the highlights:

Shakespeare – Romeo and Juliet, The Merchant of Venice, Julius Caesar, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, MacBeth, Hamlet, The Taming of the Shrew

East of Eden, The Grapes of Wrath, The Catcher in the Rye, Ethan Frome, To Kill A Mockingbird, Uncle Tom’s Cabin, The Once and Future King, The Scarlet Letter, All Quiet On the Western Front, Profiles In Courage

There were also poets – not whole books, but select pieces: Choose Something Like a Star, The Red Wheelbarrow, How Do I Love Thee?, Because I Could Not Stop For Death, Do Not Go Gentle Into that Good Night, For Whom the Bell Tolls(No Man Is an Island), The Raven

And there were excerpts: The Grand Inquisitor (The Brothers Karamazov by Dostoevsky), The Allegory of the Cave (Plato’s Republic), the Bible, Aesop’s Fables, Grimm’s Fairy Tales

For almost every book assigned, someone in my class asked the teacher why it was required. Most answered with a perfunctory It’s good for you, and you’ll need to know it when you go to college. Only two of my teachers gave different answers.

Because through these words you will come to understand what it means to be human. (Mr. Quimby)

These books will help you ask the truly important questions. (Mr. Hewitt)

The first answer was an honest one, and a small one. Wasn’t anything valuable about the reading other than some future benefit exclusively for the college bound learners? Shouldn’t learning be about something bigger than this?

The other two answers left some breathing room; they included and were big enough for every student -in the present. To be drawn into the story of someone else’s life, to experience another way to be human, to ask the big questions: the right words can do this.

So can the right teachers…

Education, Meditation, observation

Three Tickets, One Lunch

Leave a comment

It was common practice, although it isn’t any longer: handing out three different colored lunch tickets. The red ones were for children who paid full price for lunch; the blue ones were for children who paid a reduced price for their meal; the green ones were for the children who got their lunches for free. It was an easy way to count up how many of each were purchased every day. It made it easier to know the percentage of students who were in each category, and to report the numbers to the federal agency in charge of funding free lunch programs. But revealing for all to see who could pay full price for lunch and who could not was a daily exercise in cruelty. Humiliation was portioned out just as surely as the whipped potatoes and carton of milk. As they got into the upper grades, many students skipped lunch altogether, preferring hunger over embarrassment.

One of the blessings of the digital age is that every child does the exact same thing at lunch: they punch in their student ID number, they grab a tray, and they pick up their lunch. No one knows who receives assistance and who doesn’t (in my sons’ elementary school, food assistance forms had to be filled out for each child, whether they needed the help or not. Everyone handed in the forms, no exceptions and no embarrassment.). It may not be as flashy as multiplying loaves and fishes, but it’s a miracle of hospitality and generosity all the same.

Books, Education

Book Covers

Leave a comment
Covering a Book

It was the first class assignment: cover the book to keep it in good condition. I used paper grocery bags. It was easy to read whatever I wrote on them, and I could add stickers or pictures to dress them up.

By the end of January, most of my covers were worn, torn, and re-taped. Some were close to falling off or falling apart; they no longer protected the books. So I recovered them with grocery bags, tape, and new stickers and pictures. At the end of the year, the books entrusted to me were in good shape, ready for the next person to use and protect.

Other than cookbooks, I never covered books after high school. Other than library books, which I took good care of (and still do), what I read I owned. Since I wasn’t handing them in or handing them down, there was no pressure to preserve them for other hands and other eyes. I kept and continue to keep my personal library in good shape, but I’m willing to put my own books at risk (take to the beach, on a trip, read while drinking hot cocoa) more than ones on loan.

I think damage is done when I mistake what is on loan to me for something I own, when I don’t think beyond my own life to what comes after. And I don’t own most things – air, soil, plants, animals. I need to put some effort into handing these things on in good condition. And I need to remember that doing so will not be a one-and-done activity.

Education, Meditation

Home Room

Leave a comment

It’s the place I began my school day, seventh through twelfth grade: art studio, math class, social studies center, history room, physics lab, and English literature classroom. Only twice did I have an actual class in that year’s home room; only once out of those two times was it with my home room teacher. The only effect my home room had was that it governed where my locker was located.

The others sharing my home room changed yearly. Sometimes, I was assigned a seat in alphabetical order; other times, I could choose my seat but could not switch it; once, after the home room teacher had learned everyone’s names, I could sit anywhere I wanted for as many or as few days as I wished. Rarely were any of my friends in my home room. School began with a bell, a settling down in home room, roll call, then announcements, perhaps a short conversation with the person next to me. Eight minutes and a second bell and home room was over.

Home room was the one place, the one time of the day, that I had no common goal or activity with the others in the room. There was no shared subject, homework, or guidance for conversation or getting along. Home room was a randomly assigned time and place that asked nothing of me beyond acceptable behavior. If any friendships were going to grow, any connections made, I had to work for them. I could engage with whomever was there or keep my distance.

Although it wasn’t really a class, it taught me a lesson. The spaces in between intentional work or study, the times when I found myself among strangers without a common purpose, would be what I made of them.

That stuck with me. It’s the quick conversation in the grocery check-out, the moment passing someone on the sidewalk, eye contact on the subway, or the occasional catching up with the neighbor down the street these days. Some of these lead to deeper connections, most don’t. But each offer a moment, an hour, a day, a lifetime lived better for its happening.

art, Education, Meditation, observation

A Pause, and a Second Look

Leave a comment

I didn’t pick up this book for myself; it was a Christmas gift for my then seventeen year old son, who has created art that fits well in the Modern Art category. Because he said it changed his whole understanding of Art, I read it.

What are you looking at? Add one of the most recognizable modern art images, and it’s hard not go beyond the cover.

The book itself is amazing. Gompertz walks readers through the history and expressions of modern art, making accessible a whole category of work that I’d never given any time or attention to. Now, instead of my eyes sliding over the modern art pieces in a museum as I scurry to the Impressionist gallery, I stop and spend time really looking at them. I give them more than a passing glance because the cover of this book led to the pages inside, led to a pause, and led to a second look. I move beyond my first, fleeting impression.

What are you looking at? What am I looking at? Dangerous, life-altering questions. Because if we stop and ask them, pause for a second look, we might just see what is right in front of us. We might look at that bush long enough to see it burning. We might hear the voice of God. And we might remove our sandals because we know that we walk on holy ground.

If we don’t pause, we’ll miss it. At least for the time being. I suspect that the Holy will continue planting burning bushes and sacred images on our paths until we finally stop and look.

Education, Meditation, observation, worship

Free Intercessions

Leave a comment

Free intercessions may be offered.

It’s in small print, just before the end, but it’s there – that space to pause and let joys and concerns bubble to the surface of my mind and continue their ascent to God. What a gift, this moment of rest from the focus on whatever I am doing at the moment. What a gift, to move beyond my own concerns and challenges to be others in spirit and prayer.

Biblical Reflection, Education, Meditation, observation, worship

It’s Always Pouring

Leave a comment

The love of God has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us. Romans 5:5

It’s been a summer of drought. High humidity and temperatures, but not a drop of water to bring this parched land life-giving relief. Many afternoons, the air has been so saturated that it seemed impossible that the rain wouldn’t come down. But with a couple of welcome exceptions, the life-giving raindrops never made it to the ground.

Spiritual droughts have come to my inner landscape more than once, when my spirit was straw more than a green and growing vine. At such times, I choked on these words because they felt something like an aspiration more than a statement of the obvious and true. When I most needed to pray, when quieting my inner voices to be in God’s presence was most necessary – that’s when I was least able to do either. I turned away from the very sources that offered my soul refreshment and life. When desert times came, I chose to remain in that dry place when I could have moved into a greener, life-giving place.

But true these words remain. God pours love into us, and remains with us in the Spirit. When my own small reservoir of love is inadequate, I am filled again and again from the infinite sea of God’s own love. If I fully accept these words as truth, I could offer love to every living thing and never worry about running out.

Biblical Reflection, Education, life basics, Meditation, observation, Prayer, Theology

Coffee Wars

1 Comment

It does not insist on its own way. I Corinthians 13:5, NRSV

[For the full text, click I Corinthians 13 above.]

The coffee pot was moved back to the corner, and thus began the battle…

The church kitchen had been a disorganized mess for years, so the youth group took it on as a way to contribute to the life of the community. Cupboards that hadn’t been opened in years, much less emptied, were given a thorough scrubbing; what was broken or dangerous was removed; what was left was cleaned, organized, and labeled. The walls were degreased and repainted. It took hours, but the transformation was spectacular.

One of the best things: the coffee station had been relocated to a space near the service window. Everything was within easy reach, and it made coffee hour so much easier for hosts and guest alike. The youth group did the honors that first Sunday after the reorganization, hosting the coffee hour and revealing the new kitchen.

The grumbling started within hours. How could the teens change the kitchen without asking (they had permission from the church leaders)? How could they toss things out without permission (only broken and expired things were thrown away)? What right did they have to change anything?

The next Sunday, the coffee pots and machine had been moved back to the corner by persons unknown, recreating the old set-up. The youth, assuming someone didn’t know about the new place, moved it again. The next Sunday, it happened again. And again. And again. Finally, the youth gave up. Their hard work and best intentions had run into a communal unwillingness to change. The coffee making status quo was restored, but the damage was significant: the youth no longer believed that their efforts or their presence were welcome.

I doubt the adults who moved the coffee pots were intentionally causing damage to the teens of the church. I’m almost positive that there wasn’t a conspiracy intent on rejecting and dismantling the gift of time and effort given by the youth. This was just a typical knee-jerk reaction, a reclaiming of turf, an exercise of power. I wish the adults had asked themselves this question:

What is more important: keeping things the way I want them or honoring the gift offered by others?

The true and most disturbing question: what would have been their answer?

Biblical Reflection, Education, gratitude, Meditation, observation, Prayer, worship

Reconciled, reconciling

Leave a comment

If anyone is in Christ she/he is a new creation; the old has passed away, behold the new has come. All this is from God, who through Christ reconciled us to Godself and gave us the ministry of reconciliation. (BCP, p.106, 2 For. 5:17-18)

God offers us the chance to be a new creation, every minute of every day. The old can pass away at any time, and the new ushered in with gladness. This isn’t something we do for ourselves – it’s a blessing Christ offers.

Thanks be to God, we respond.

But there’s something missing if we leave it at that. God also gave us the ministry of reconciliation – the joy and responsibility of handing on that reconciliation in our own lives, our own relationships. It’s not an easy or pleasant thing in all times, places, and circumstances. Sometimes, reconciliation is painful, difficult, and at the expense of something we’d rather do or have.

This ministry of reconciliation doesn’t seem like much of a gift compared to the chance to be a new creation. But there it is. I’m going to take it on faith that this ministry of reconciliation is every much the gift that new life is. For that reason, I’ll respond:

Thanks be to God.

art, Education, Meditation, observation

Finding the Rhythm

Leave a comment

 

The time signature in a musical piece sets the rhythm – common time, three-quarter time, etc. It gives a frame for the notes, directions on how they work together in time, and keeps everyone singing and playing the various parts working together to transform dark spots on white paper into melody and harmony. It’s the touchpoint for improvisation, the place of reference for scat singing and jazz solos. When I dance, it directs my feet; it provides the when and how often for clapping.

It’s usually easy enough to find the rhythm that the time signature sets. But every so often, it isn’t so easy. I can’t quite find the underlying beat, and the pattern of the notes escapes me. Turning on the radio at the end of a song or during a guitar solo; a cappella chanting; some modern classical music that changes rhythm unexpectedly and often: these can throw me off, and it takes more than a few seconds to find my way in the piece. I have to wait until I can feel the structure and pattern in the music. It’s unsettling.

My spiritual life feels that way sometimes. The time signature changes throughout my life, and it throws me off until I find the rhythm; I’ve tuned in somewhere in the middle instead of at the start (more honestly, I tuned out for the beginning part!); someone’s offering a riff on faith, and I miss its connection to the standard version.

Finding the rhythm of the Spirit may take some time, and I may not catch on as quickly as I’d like – I may even clap in the wrong places. But given time and a little patience, I’ll find my place in the music. I may appreciate the time signature all the more for having missed it.

[The Book of Love, Shall We Dance?, Peter Gabriel, 2004]