The Hard Lesson

 

I am writing this essay at 9:37 on Wednesday morning, November 4, 2020. It is important, for my purposes, to note that as of this moment, there is no clear winner in the presidential election. It is important because I would like to address my Christian brothers and sisters—as many of you as will listen, about what I believe is the lesson for us to learn in this moment. It is a hard lesson and one we have ignored, to our peril, for as long as Christianity itself has been legal to practice in public. The lesson is this one: we have no dog in the fight for governmental power. No president, no governor, no mayor, no councilperson is “Godly.” Many people are practitioners of an active life of faith, the mores and values of which they apply to their service in government. I know many public servants like this. But to work for the government and to take public money is to wed oneself to American law, to prioritize law. To do it well, a person must be—must be—impartial. That person must have their eyes and ears open to many voices, to be serving as broadly as possible, which, at points, might mean actively working against values that the person him- or herself holds dear. The hard lesson for Christians, and really, for all people of faith, is this: we have put our faith in governments, when we should have been keeping our eyes on God.

 

What is our role in regard to government and worldly power? For Christ followers, we have been tasked with following the example and call of Jesus. So, What Did Jesus Do? Jesus largely ignored the governmental powers of his day. He had little to say about Herod, even when Herod blithely murdered his cousin. He had less to say about Rome, except to tell people to let Rome have what belongs to Rome and to give to God what belongs to God (which is one of the best moments in Jesus quotes, because, according to Psalm 24, what belongs to God is everything). Jesus emphasized the two rules which are also emphasized in the scriptures to which he had access, the scriptures he had hidden in his own heart, which were 1)Love God with everything you have; 2)Love those around you the same way you love yourself. Recently, I had a conversation with a friend who said that it was amazing how the sermon dealt with the same thing they had talked about in Sunday School. This happens with some regularity to pastors, whether we plan for it or not. The reason this happens is that there are really two rules which, as Jesus pointed out, summarize all the prophets and the law. They are the two listed above.

 

Interestingly, the second of these two rules is what we have most in common with the other world religions. We differ on some points, but the thread that runs through most of the world is that what it means to be a good human is that we love others the way we love ourselves. That we treat others the way we would want to be treated. That’s our job. It’s not our job to make sure other people do this. It’s not our job to have our government enforce these two. The model of the prophets is that they spoke these words to power, that they called their leaders to fulfill this law. Most of them are under constant threat of death—most of them are chased out of the kingdom or spend a fair amount of time in caves or lions’ dens or furnaces. The model does not offer a fat and comfortable seat next to the king or potentate or emperor, adorned in gold and snapping fingers for servants. We are not to be in cahoots with power.

 

So, this morning, the word I would like to offer is this: whoever wins this election, it is no triumph or failure for us. Our job is the same, no matter the outcome. If the guy we voted for wins, our job is to hold his feet to the fire, to be outside his system and demand justice and peace and the sharing of wealth and food for the hungry and good healthcare and fair housing practices and care for the environment. If the guy we did not vote for wins, our job is to hold his feet to the fire, to be outside his system and demand justice and peace and the sharing of wealth and food for the hungry and good healthcare and fair housing practices and care for the environment. Whoever wins, our job is to advocate for the protection of lives, the most lives possible. Whoever wins, our job is to advocate for the outcasts and those oppressed by the system he represents. That’s our job. It never changes.

 

I’ve heard so many people—people voting for both candidates—talk about how they will leave the country if their candidate does not win. I say we should remember the lesson taught by the great female philosopher, Phyllis Diller: “Never go to bed angry; stay up and fight.” I say we stay here and do our jobs. I say we keep talking to each other, helping each other see the priorities of those who voted differently than we do. I say we stop obsessing about Presidents—we treat them as if they were celebrities on the cover of Teen Beat rather than mere civil servants who are supposed to do the job we hired them to do. If we want a celebrity President, I recommend we go the route of Zaphod Beeblebrox and be done with the idea that our president serves us. Give POTUSes a gold car and a big pair of scissors and let them open malls. What he or she is supposed to do is care for us, guide the government to good policies that care for the most people possible. It is the job of a civil servant—the job of a truly humble person if it is to be done well. We are the ones who make the celebrities—we could stop doing that. And, really, these civil servants are not our problem in our lives of faith. Both the Old Testament and the New Testament reveal God disdaining kings, sighing in frustration when people obsess over kings and kingdoms. I had a professor in seminary who used to say that he believed Jesus’ forehead was flat because of all the times he looked around at what people were doing and slapped his head in frustration.

 

We do not hope in presidents. We do not hope in kings. We do not hope in state legislatures or senates or representatives. We are on the outside, the constant burr in their saddles, poking and prodding whoever is in those seats to do justice, to enact mercy. That’s our job. It’s time we stopped doing the thing we are expressly forbidden (including the spiraling anxiety we permit ourselves over these elections) and get to work on the job we’ve actually been given. Whatever the outcome of this election, our job is the same. Let’s get to it.

The Imperative

"Put that down!" "Stop that!" Don't touch anything!" "Leave that alone!" When I think about the imperatives of my childhood, it seems like they were mostly related to touching things and bothering people. "Just sit down and be quiet!" was the most often combination of imperatives. "Do not bother people or break their property" was the message conveyed by adults of all ilks. I mostly didn't break things, but I was never good at sitting still. It is still a spiritual discipline for me, to sit quietly and not move when other people are talking. Although I don't actually buy into the "Disorder" part of my ADD, I do have to admit to the "Attention Deficit;" I have trouble attending to things I am not interested in. Still, I know an imperative when I see it, and I was raised to be a good girl. So I try to obey.

Do you know the imperative I spend the most time on, in every field of my life? "Do not be afraid." I say it more, I think it more, I advocate for it more than any other single thing in my life. It is in front of "Get your work done," in front of "Be nice," and (only slightly) ahead of "Do not eat my cookie." I think we forget that "Do not be afraid" comes at us, consistently, in the imperative form of the verb. For those of you who are not grammar nerds, in other languages, such as the Hebrew and Greek in which our scripture was originally written, verb tenses and meanings are formed with endings or prefixes, changed spellings or added letters. For example, when Jesus says, "Fear them not" in Matthew 10, referring to those who would persecute the disciples, the word phobeo becomes phobethente--the imperative. A command. In English it is easy to spot because of the "understood 'You'" in the sentence. the verb now moved to the front of the line. "(YOU) Pick up your dadgummed socks off the dining room table!" "(YOU) Feed that dog before he eats the baby!" "(YOU) Do not be afraid!"

Right now, everyone is afraid. How could we not be afraid? We are pummeled by an invisible enemy, which can catch us or anyone around us without our even knowing it has caught us. We can pass it to someone else without knowing we have it. It can have mild symptoms, no symptoms, or life-ending symptoms. It is brand new, but we know what it is. We will find a vaccine for it, but not for a good while. Our only defense is to give up many things that are familiar and comforting to us. Meanwhile there is too much bad information floating around and lots and lots and lots of fear.

So here is a question: why would one of THE MOST CONSISTENT commands in scripture be about not being afraid? I mean, we get why we should not steal, shouldn't take someone else's wife or donkey (does the omission of stealing or coveting someone else's husband strike anyone as a fairly big loophole?). Why the constant nagging about being afraid? Why can't I be afraid if I want to? Well, it's kind of like the rabbit I walked past coming into the office this morning. She was about 20 yards away, sitting with her little ears up in the morning sunlight. She sensed me coming, and lowered her ears. I'm sure she tensed her muscles. Her heart--already beating at quite a clip--sped up and she prepared to run. I am no threat to her--I would never intentionally hurt a rabbit, because I read Watership Down, but she doesn't know that. So she spends her energy on preparing to run. She hunkers down, as if I could not still see her. What logic she might possess is gone in that moment and she is running on pure instinct, which, in this case, hasn't really served her well, using up her energy for a nothing threat like me.

Fear is a survival instinct. It keeps us alive. Except, because it is instinctual, it by-passes our higher brain functions--it leaves logic behind. So, here's my theory of what scripture is commanding, what it is imperative that we do when fear is at work on us. I believe the actual command might be this: "Use your brain." There are moments when that instinct of fear-based reactions is vital--someone pointing a loaded gun at our face; someone threatening physical violence. For most of our lives, though, we are better served by our brains, by taking a moment and pulling back from the fear, by removing the permission from ourselves to spiral, and saying to ourselves, possibly out loud, "Keep it together, Weirdo Who Is Now Talking To Herself--Use Your Brain."

Right now, more than any other time in my lifetime, we have an entire world afraid. We are afraid of the virus. We are afraid of each other. We are afraid of what world leaders will do or not do. We are afraid of what violent people around us might do in a vacuum of power. We are afraid for our systems, for our communities, for our very survival. And it shows. Social media has become more of a battleground than it ever was, every day individuals setting themselves up as journalists to share a version of the world that they call truth, despite evidence that might offer a different view. Every day, individuals calling out others, pointing out the villains, blaming, angry, even calling for violence and death. I want to say it right now--based on the life of Jesus and every other person who has been close to God, that is not ok. It is not ok to wish for the death of someone, even if that person is making mistakes that hurt others. It is not ok to wish for the death of those who are acting in fear. Anger is an element of fear and we are an angry, fearful people. And, if you want to know what the Bible says about that, it says this, over and over: "Do not be afraid." In the imperative mood. A command. "Put that down." "Stop it." "Do not take one more step." "Don't be afraid."

So how do we respond to the things around us that are problematic? What should we say when our leaders make mistakes that cost lives? When they double down on their own fear? I'd like to recommend a couple of things:
1.Calling out mistakes and calling for good practices is not a fear response. It is rational and what should be happening broadly right now. It isn't helpful to make this about personalities. It is helpful to make it about good policies, good practices.
2.The one person we each can control is the self. If I read (as I have) that social distancing, hand-washing and mask-wearing are very effective in preventing the spread of the disease, I can do those things. I cannot control what other people do--it is pointless to talk about what other people do. I can model good practices. That's it. The rest is fear and control, neither of which is helpful right now. If I have a business or an organization, I can work with my colleagues to set good practices and enforce them. If people want my services, they can abide by my practices. If not, ok. I cannot control them, but my organization can control its own policies.
3. Recognizing fear and fear responses gives me some power over my fear. To say, "I am afraid," right now is not only to acknowledge it for myself, but also to acknowledge it for those around me. Speaking our fears engages those higher brain functions--we hear the words, we understand them, we see them for what they are. I am afraid, and it is making me angry. I am afraid, and it is shutting down my thoughts. I am afraid and I need to do something, to say something, to act so that this feeling goes away. Begin with the words: "I am afraid." Remove the permissions to spiral. Talk to friends. Listen to friends acknowledge their own fears. Reach out beyond your usual circles and let people vent without blaming them for venting.

You know the other thing scripture has to say about fear? It says, "Be strong and courageous." It says, "Go boldly out in the world with the knowledge that God is with you." It is filled with stories of ne'er-do-wells who had God on their side and triumphed against all odds. The people are thirsty in the desert, and God brings them water. The people are hungry in the desert and God gives them food. The people are sick and weak and afraid and mentally ill and in broken relationships and hurting themselves and others and Jesus heals them. We are called to require of ourselves that we be brave. There is no way around that call. Try as you might, you will not find a scripture that says, "Give in to your fears and vent against people you don't agree with." It may feel good to laugh at the people who are doing it all wrong, to make fun of them and have others agree that they are the problem. But that is a fear response, an anger response. And it isn't helpful right now. Be brave. Be hopeful. Be courageous. Love is bold and all those people who post Beatles tunes and espouse a world of love should also acknowledge that love is brave and does not attack out of fear.

I am afraid right now. I spend some time, every day, in fear. I am afraid of what might happen to my family. What might happen to my community. What might happen to my children, my husband, me. I am afraid. And some days, the push of that fear behind my eyes is more than I can bear. But I am fortunate in my life that I have good friends. I have strong family. I have a place I can voice my fears. And I have (at the risk of sounding churchy) Jesus; I have God. I have scripture. I have a deeply entrenched belief system that tells me that God walks with us in the world right now, as God has walked through plagues and wars and violence before. I do better when I listen to God. I do better when I voice my fears to friends, when we commiserate and laugh and think of creative ways to get through all of this. We have resources and this is the right time to use them. I hear the command, "Don't be afraid; use your brain; use your resources; be creative; be hopeful; be loving; be hospitable." The alternative does not serve us well. We have been told how we are to be, and it is imperative that we do so.

Time to Learn How We Learn

Okay, friends. It's 2020. There's a very serious virus rampaging all over the world and the trick to keeping the most people safe (including ourselves, no matter what category we fall into because if we fall and crack our skulls accidentally and then we go to the ER but we can't get in because the ER is packed with people who are dealing with the coronavirus, it's bad) will be staying apart from each other, including staying out of classrooms. So this is a great opportunity to learn, finally, how human beings learn. First, some basic necessities; what is absolutely vital to make learning possible? Here's my list:
1)A desire to learn. So here's the thing about learning--you have to choose it. It cannot be forced on you--it will just roll off your brain like water. You can be forced into believing that you HAVE to learn something, and then it becomes something you desire, but you cannot be forced to learn. Period.

2)A teacher. This can be literally anyone. I had this professor in college--a coach who taught health. I was a senior, getting ready to leave my institution of higher learning and forced to take health as a requirement for getting my teaching certificate. I cannot tell you the level of disdain with which I looked at this class and this teacher. In my mind, I called him "Droopy Dog," because, well, he looked like Droopy Dog. One day--and I don't know exactly what I did, but it probably involved eye-rolling--he called me out into the hall. He told me that I was missing out. That every person, every class had something to teach me. He told me that my disdain was obvious and contagious. He said, "Open your eyes. There is something you can learn every single place you are." In that way, he might have been the most important teacher I had.

And those two things, my friends, are all you need to be able to learn. Side note: it is NOT all you need to be able to teach--I do NOT, in any way, mean to denigrate the gifts, talents and back-breaking work of professional teachers. Teachers are asked to solve for this problem, every day:
               You have 30 human beings in a small space every day. Each of them learns differently.
                In 180 days, move all of those humans forward on the path of their learning in
                every possible category based on criteria set by people who don't understand learning.
                Go.
When I was a teacher, I did not care about messages that lauded my hard work or that made me out to be a hero. What I wanted was better pay, smaller class sizes, and the respect to do the job the way I knew best. What we are walking into right now is a completely different set of problems and we would do well to examine the question above and ask ourselves, "Is this what we want to keep asking our teachers to do? Remotely? Is that even possible?" I think teachers, with very, very few exceptions, are brilliant and compassionate and wonderful--I am not writing an essay about them.

With that caveat, I want to remind us that this essay is about learning and what we will need to understand about learning as this virus progresses and we find our new normal. Our children will learn what they desire to learn. What helps children desire to learn? They are, mostly, literal human beings. So they will learn about what interests them. One child will pour over the statistics for an athlete, another will be interested in small things, a third will understand, intuitively, how things move in the world. You just never know. Would you like the child to understand numbers and equations? Build something. Cook something. Sew something. Plant something. Do you think it is important that the child understand history? Tell stories. About history. Make a set of cards with events and give them to the child and walk away. Write the names of Presidents of the 20th century on Legos or wooden blocks and have the children stack them in order. Hide them in the house and require that, when they find one, they have to tell you a story from that President's administration. Make each child President for a day in 1976 and ask, "What should we do about the oil shortage?" Or in 1929. Or in 2020.

There are really a very few core skills that human beings need to acquire in order to be able to do whatever they want for the rest of their lives:
                --Communication (reading, writing, speaking, listening)
                --Calculation (all the maths)
                --Decision-making (including core values and the ability to set core values)
                --Body Awareness (coordination, application of core values, muscle memory)
                --Creation (applying imagination to the skills above)
You may have a few others, but really, from these five sets of skills, a human being can learn anything they need to learn for the rest of their lives. It is a matter of submitting themselves to a teacher, of being ready to learn whatever lesson is being offered to them. I learned to learn from everybody--what NOT to do is just as important a lesson as what TO do. And I've never met anyone that I did not admire in some way--not a single person I can think of who did not have some skill I could learn from.     

And learning, in its nature, requires failure. Before we learn something, we fail at it again and again and again and again. If we fail one hundred times, it is progressing to attempt 101 that might do the trick. Our educational system disdains failure and makes it aversive--we can take this opportunity to embrace failure, to make it a desirable part of the learning process. When my children were small, and they would fall down and get hurt, my husband would ask them, "Did you get blood? If you got some blood, you must have been having fun." Now, I have to admit, that I didn't go full in on this, especially at first. But what I found was not that my children tried to harm themselves, but that they didn't avoid things just because they might get hurt. They are brave, my children, and I am proud of them for being so brave--their ability to go boldly into the world and make decisions for their own lives is a beautiful thing to watch. The very best thing parents can do for their children is give them space to make their own mistakes, even to get little damaged in the process, so that their brains can acquire the necessary learning to enable them to engage bravely in the world and solve their own problems. Failure creates that desire to learn, especially if one of the things we have been taught is that failure is simply a necessary step toward success.

Being a teacher, mostly, is about meeting one human being exactly where they are, digging into what they want to learn, accepting what they have to teach, and sharing what you know. It is opening doors and shining light, allowing others to make their own discoveries. I think we have a chance, here, to really partner with our teachers. To really enhance our educational system. Rather than trying to replicate a classroom (which is SO not the best format for learning), we have a chance here to set up something new and wonderful--to free our teachers up from the @#*)_#$(**@&%&# testing that has been the bane of their existence (and the children's and the parents') for almost 30 years.

I know we're only a week into this. This is how my mind works, nimble (if erratic) and quick to move into the next new thing--if you read this, I invite you to take it or leave it. I'm offering it because I think we're at a watershed--I've felt it coming for years (and my guess is that you have too). I would invite all the parents who have been tossed unceremoniously in between their children and their children's education to engage. Strap in. Have fun. What do you have to teach your child? How can you partner with your children's teachers? How can you support them and be part of helping those teachers figure out how to do the job they have been asked to do? Invite your community into this education process--who could show you how to do a garden? Build a doll house? Knit a scarf? Make a bow out of PVC pipe, paracord and electrical tape? Make a marshmallow shooter out of PVC pipe and duct tape? What else can you make out of duct tape? Who do you know who can name all the kings of England? Who loves poetry (probably a smaller group of people than those who can name the kings, but no judgment)? How are language and music related? What do we have in our house that we can make into musical instruments? If your child were to write a book, what would her book be about? What movie would he make? This is our chance to explore learning, to teach the necessary skills in ways that fit the needs of our children. To get out from under grades and tests and get into intellectual challenges and the deep learning that sticks.

I'm in, by the way. And I think we'll find that lots of people will be in as well. The education of our children is vital and those children want to learn. The trick will be to understand that what we want them to learn are those five skills--HOW they learn those skills is pretty close to immaterial. I wish you luck in this--learning is one of the best things we get to do as human beings. Time to learn that again.