I went to the Asbury University President’s Brunch yesterday morning with Sharon. It was billed as a non-fundraiser. I have learned to be skeptical of such claims. However, it really wasn’t a fundraiser! It was a wonderful time. The university paid for everything, including valet parking. It was good to meet new people, all of whom had some connection to this university that I love. I came more alive in this setting. Years ago, a good friend who was also one of my students in a New Testament Greek class, said “You come alive in the classroom.” Lois was right. Apparently, I even come alive in academic settings at the Westin Hotel.
I got a chance to chat for several minutes with Kevin Brown, Asbury’s president. He was very generous with his time. He heard a bit of my story. I told him that I had been a pastor for a long time and am now teaching online courses for Southeastern University. After listening, Dr. Brown asked me a very thought-provoking question: “Would you say that you are primarily a teacher or a pastor to your students?”
Simple yes-or-no questions can bring me to a screeching halt. Like a deer caught in the middle of the road, I stopped, unable to go this way or that. If you stop in the middle of the road, you sometimes get struck by the truth. That is what happened to me.
My wife walked up as I was struggling with the answer. When she was apprized of the question, she responded with one word: “Both.” My wife has a way of cutting to the chase.
Here is the thing as best I understand the “thing”: We are all called to help others along in our pilgrimage. The word “pastor” historically means “shepherd”. A shepherd—at least a good one—takes good care of his flock. So does a good professor. So does any person who does any kind of good work. Moms, dads, nurses, doctors, counselors, utility workers, engineers, and everyone else who does anything else that is at all worthwhile have the privilege and responsibility of caring for others. No exceptions.
And we all do learn from one another. Or, at least, we should. Therefore, we are all teachers. We may not know it, but we are. We teach by our words, but more so by our deeds. We teach by our silent attitudes. We teach by returning or making phone calls.
So, while it may be true that the words “pastor” and “teacher” may be defined more narrowly, they also have some broader and deeper connotations. As good as Dr. Brown’s question was, there is an even more profound question: “Am I being a good pastor-teacher today? Am I building people up? How can I do better at that?
We all feel overwhelmed at times. Even good things, things we enjoy and feel passionate about, can inundate us with fear and frustration. No one is exempt from being overwhelmed. For example, here is my journal entry for this morning:
Friday, July 26, 2019
So, why have I not been posting more blogs, you ask? Partly, because I have been getting more chances to teach. And while I love teaching biblical subjects, I am more than a little overwhelmed right now. (Can you be a little overwhelmed?)
Here is what I am facing right now. I had done a lot of work on a couple of courses for the fall semester, which is coming up in a hurry. A few days ago, I was asked to switch out those two courses for two others. I thought to myself, well, I need to be flexible. I’m an adjunct. Okay, I’ll do it. Then, I discovered that one class has sixty-one students in it, and the other has twenty-one. I’ve never taught a class bigger than about thirty. So, I need to choose textbooks and get the syllabi together for these two classes, and I have very little time in which to do it.
Additionally, I am currently teaching one undergraduate class, and preparing to teach two masters level classes in a little over a week. These two masters level courses are hybrid classes, which means that I will be meeting with students in person for a very intensive week in early August. One class goes from 8:00 to noon, and the other from 1:00 to 5:00, five days of that week.
So, I have too much to do and too little time to get it done. I need to work on both sides of the equation—the too much to do, and the too little time. I can do two fundamental things.
First, I need to keep doing things that energize me and keep me on the right path. Therefore, I need to continue to exercise and to work at recovery from this addiction. If I “free up more time” by means of refusing to work on bodily health and recovery wisdom, I am walking in neither wisdom nor freedom.
Second, I need to cut back radically on what I “need” to do. Do I really need to do this? That is a question I need to ask myself many times in the course of the day. And I need to follow up with another question: What do I really need to be doing right now?
Right now, a bird is singing outside my window right now, anticipating the dawn. It is a call to worship for Matins, the Morning Song Service for the worship of God. This song is also part of the healthy rhythms of my life. And so is this blog post.
Here is my journal entry from this morning:
Friday, April 26, 2019
I listened to Brenè Brown on Netflix yesterday evening. A bit salty in her language, but very good. (Also, she is very funny, which doesn’t hurt her talk at all.) Based on her talk, two good questions to ask myself are these: Am I showing up in the arena? Am I throwing my entire self into this?
Here is my 12-step affirmation for today: “Today, by God’s grace, I am entering the arena. I don’t have to win. I do have to (and get to) throw my entire heart, soul, and mind into the battle. And I am doing precisely that.”
I teach my final exegesis of Isaiah face-to-face class today, from 9:00 until 5:00. I am not as prepared as I would like to be. Or, at least, I don’t feel as prepared as I should be. However, I need to show up, whatever my state of preparation. Perhaps showing up is the name of the game. Perhaps showing up is the game.
Brown says that being vulnerable is one of the central characteristics of courage. She almost equates the two. I agree.
So, today I will be vulnerably courageous and courageously vulnerable.
Arena, here I come!
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