“…And in my opinion, the young generation of whites, blacks, browns, whatever else there is, you’re living at a time of extremism, a time of revolution, a time when there’s got to be a change.  People in power have misused it, and now there has to be a change and a better world has to be built, and the only way it’s going to be built—is with extreme methods.  And I, for one, will join in with anyone—I don’t care what color you are—as long as you want to change this miserable condition that exists on this earth.”

- Malcolm X, 12/3/1964 – Oxford University

Everything must change.

Since I was a kid, my dad and I have played chess.  Because he has never believed in letting someone win, he used to beat me a lot.  As I was learning the game, my dad would get me into check and then help me figure out how to get out of check.  He might say, “you have three possible moves” or “you have two moves available” or “you have one move left.”  Invariably, I would hear, “checkmate.”

This went on for almost 25 years.  That’s how old I was when I beat him for the first time.

The key to developing a strategic mind, one that can navigate the game of chess, is to see all the available moves ahead of time.  It is an exhilarating feeling to watch a field of virtually limitless possibilities narrow into increasingly smaller paths.  They become threads that can lead into dead-ends or escapes.  Those threads can strangle you, or pull out creative options you didn’t know you had.  Either way, you are able to see things on the board that are obscure to someone who doesn’t know the game.  You can see when the game is over several moves before it happens.

“Three possible moves… two moves available… one move left.  Checkmate.”

I believe that we are living in a time when people are coming to see that so long as the unfolding of civilization is locked to the grid of such a chessboard, our possibilities of escape are rapidly diminishing.

If the unfolding of the narrative of civilization can be compared to a chess game, then I assure you we as a people have lost the game.  The shadowed forces of greed, the dehumanizing empires of insatiable thirst for power, the corporate bodies we have manufactured in the attempt to make a name for ourselves (Gen 11:4) have cornered us.  Us, the very good creation of the living God, embossed with her divine image.  We have wagered something that was never ours to give away, our precious humanity, in order to give consent to a soulless idol that cannot provide the justice, mercy, love, hope and dignity that our humanity requires.

Sure, there may be a few moves left on the board.  An empty piece of legislation or two, an infusion of cash here or there.  But I assure you the game is over.  We are about to be crushed by the heavy machinery of the juggernaut we have created.  This is not the worst thing that could happen; there are billions of people who have been crushed for centuries.  For millenia.  At least those of us who have been pulling the levers in the machine will finally be able to identify with the poor and marginalized we claimed to be helping by our rabid consumerism.  When the empire has exhausted the rest of us, at least we will know what it’s like to be dependent upon the pity and charity of guilt offerings.  At least we will know a pain worse than hunger: the dehumanizing shame that rots within those we bar from a seat at the table of dignity and human community.  We too will finally know what it’s like to be invisible.

We don’t need to find solutions that work within the racist, sexist, classist, unjust social structures we have built around ourselves.  We need to overthrow unjust social structures.  The problem is not a lack of charity, but a lack of justice (Isa 58:6-12).  The problem is not that we are losing the game, but that we have mistaken God’s immeasurably good creation for a game, and a game that’s rigged against us at that.

Everything must change.

Whether or not you like or accept this imperative is beside the point.  The game is over and we lost.  There’s only one way this will play out and it’s with the rest of us rotting in material and spiritual poverty.

But there is good news.

The living God has heard the cry of the poor.  And the living God is bringing the Kingdom in our midst.  What God has to say, God says specifically to the poor (Isa 61:1-3, Luke 4:16-21).  When we are finally crushed too, then we will hear, maybe for the first time, what God has to say.

Of course, we don’t have to wait until then.  We could choose to hear it now:  Everything has to change.

The Kingdom of God is the point.  The Kingdom of God is God’s answer to injustice, to suffering, to the cries of her people.  When Jesus of Nazareth preached on this earth, he announced that the Kingdom was in our midst.  He healed the broken and sick.  And the ethics of the Kingdom he described were foreign and backwards to anything we can imagine.  A worker who labors for one hour is paid the same as one who works for eight (Matt 20:1-16)?  The last shall be first and the first shall be last?  Are you kidding me?  The prostitutes and tax-collectors, the drug-dealers and predators are getting into heaven before the religious people?  Before the philanthropists?  When the empire finally nailed this peasant to a cross, God revealed that her love will resurrect even that which the empire lawfully executes.

We literally cannot imagine what the Kingdom looks like, and we literally cannot bring it.  The Kingdom is not the fruit of pious, conservative Bible thumpers, or of compassionate, white liberals.  The Kingdom comes from God and it belongs to the poor, the silenced, the powerless, the abused, the shit-on, the screw-ups, those for whom the privileged, conservative, liberal, whatever, claim to know what’s best.

Our job is not to bring the Kingdom.  Our job is to believe that the Kingdom is both here, and still arriving.  Our job is to repent (Mark 1:15).  Our job is to tear down the empire -the anti-kingdom- which is occupying the space God created.  Our job is to plant nonviolent dynamite in every gear of the machine.  Our job is to bite the hand that feeds us.  Our job is to use the black glass, metal and plastic devices that we’re been duped into buying in order to SPEAK, to SHOUT, to CRY OUT as loud as we can on behalf of the children who have literally paid the incalculable price for them with their lives, so that we can have them for $299.  It is to resist and subvert and destroy the empire that we have legitimized with our consent in order to incarcerate 1 in 9 young black men in the US, in order to bomb the limbs and skin off of innocent brown children in the mountains in Afghanistan with unmanned drones.  It is to expose the systemic injustice of a world that has relegated 51% of its population -women- to minority status.

We can sift through the media noise to discover the lost voices of our artists who can show us the way out of this cultural wilderness.  We can resolve not to patronize the poor, but listen to them.  We can refuse the empire impulse to assume we know what’s best for those we oppress.  But we’d better get ready to hear things that we don’t want to hear.

We cannot resist the forces that compel us to buy and sin, but we can acknowledge that we are not free.  It is in this admission of powerlessness that we paradoxically find the key to freedom, to find the one move we have left before checkmate: to say NO to the empire that profits from the theft of human dignity, and say YES to the God that will liberate the captives.

(Originally posted Isa 61 on 2/15/12)

But Lent can also be refreshing, a time for self-reflection, a time to deepen one’s faith.  Many churches have turned away from the dreary darkness of Lent and the self-denial towards a brighter outlook—preparing for the resurrection, taking on a spiritual practice to deepen one’s relationship.  Lent can be almost a joyous time, as the days get brighter and warmer and Easter approaches.

This year, Lent falls in the heat of the election cycle.  The language is getting more intense, the attacks have become personal, to the point of attacking our president’s own religious beliefs by make assumptions and declarations based simply on the fact that the president has a different viewpoint on an issue than a candidate.  In our own local politics, at times we hear that real Christians vote with one political party and not the other.  It is enough to make one’s head explode with rage or make my stomach turn over.

However you look at Lent, it has traditionally been a time of self-introspection.  As the political climate has become volatile, perhaps this year we might take the time of Lent to look inward.  Do I allow my own anger and rage to consume my thoughts and actions?  Do I take cheap shots and aim at others with the eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth mentality?  Do I determine that all those who differ from me are truly evil, greedy, selfish and ignorant?  Do I become the very thing that I detest in others?

And maybe it’s time to look outward: how can I best model the life and ministry of Christ in my own actions?  How can I stand up for the poor, the sick and uninsured, the immigrant, the suicidal teen, the imprisoned, the oppressed, without taking on the attributes of those who make my blood boil?

This season of Lent, I hope that those of us who claim Christ and the name of Christian might look at how we are engaging the political sphere as followers and witnesses of Jesus.  How can we uphold the inherit worth and dignity of all persons, even those who would not include us in the faith?  How can we speak out on matters of justice authentically without taking on the rage and insults that often accompany political discussion?

It is hard to be authentic and be consistent with our faith and action.  The disciples couldn’t cut it.  Peter followed Jesus throughout his ministry only to draw a sword in the garden and then desert Jesus when he was arrested.  So we shouldn’t feel too awful when we fail to follow through all the time.  But we should strive to minister in the way Christ ministered to others—to be concerned about people more than issues, doing right more than “being right,” and proclaiming the Good News (the Gospel) instead of judgment and condemnation.

And this Lent, as the political rhetoric at times makes me want to vomit, I am reminded that beyond the cross is the Resurrection.  We will get through this.  We will make it to the promised hope.  We will see the New Life promised by Christ.  And we have this promise now—it is up to us to live into that New Life here on earth.  It does us no good to become just like those we disagree with when their actions don’t follow up to how Jesus ministered, but in following Jesus, we are shown the better Way.  We can either live in the darkness and ashes, or we can do our part to live into the resurrection.

In various venues, Mark Yaconelli has shared a definition of “adult” written by youth. “Adults have no friends. Adults have no passions. Adults are stressed out.” This is truer than we want it to be. Somehow on the path to adulthood we make more sacrifices and compromises than we realize. There are compromises in relationships, with God, and even with ourselves that we are not aware of. Over time, we long for what has been lost but we struggle to define what is missing. So, we take our children to church and hope they can find the stale bread-crumbs we left behind. We hope they will lead us back to the faith that once defined us. We hope they will lead us back to a relationship with God that once fulfilled us.

Our polarized culture tries to narrow faith down to a set of beliefs or doctrines that are easy to measure, define, and articulate. Many young adults have taken those very beliefs and doctrines home with them and decided to try “home-churching” for a while. As long as we believe the right things and don’t say the wrong things, what is the point of church? Right?!? Wrong! Soon, a grumbling in the gut starts to echo. It grows till an inward groan swells up inside us.

I’ve spoken with tons of young adults, 20 and 30 some-things, and I regularly get the line about their children and values and blah, blah, blah. As we talk longer, I can hear the groan echoing. I can hear a longing for more. Like dehydrated travelers in the desert, they show up to our church and say, “please, give my children something to drink.” And are too ashamed, too proud or too lost to say, “and some for me too, because my well has run dry!”

Not surprisingly, it is our children who most easily find their place in the church. They sit at the feet of storytellers and wonder at the Gospel message. They see other people for who they really are and develop mutually vulnerable relationships. Meanwhile, mom and dad (too often just mom by herself) are putting their big toe in the water to make sure it won’t cost them too much or challenge too much of the well manicured life they have constructed. Thank God, many young families have children when they come back to church or they would never open up enough to experience the faith they so desperately want.

For those of us who fit into the 20-30 something (yes, I’m still there!) crowd, let’s try being honest, at least with ourselves. Let’s not just drop our kids off for Sunday School. Let’s ask the questions we never finished answering. Let’s explore the mysteries that still enthrall us. Let’s share the feelings that we have buried so deep inside. Let’s quit looking for the dried up bread crumbs of our childhood faith or dusting off the old warm fuzzy stack from camp in hopes that Jesus will pop out of them. Let’s dare to make faith a verb again and trust that whatever it changes in our lives will be worth the risk. Maybe our children will see faith alive in us and not be so quick to pawn their own faith along the way.

In the Deer Park Discourses the Buddha famously observed that “life is suffering”–the first noble truth–which, when first heard by students in my world religion classes, strikes them as unnecessarily morose.

“Yeah, life sucks and all that … but it’s not all bad.”

At that point, I explain to them that the word used by the Buddha (dukkha), which often gets translated from the Pali as “suffering,” doesn’t just mean something like “unremitting agony.” It can mean that, of course; but it means much more.

Dukkha is better understood as a wheel in which the axle is off center, making the wheel wobble constantly as it turns. Dukkha is like a pebble in the shoe, which can cause great pain, but is more often experienced as a phenomenon that exists just beyond the horizon of awareness, always seeming to lurk at the edges of consciousness. It is, in short, the nagging sense that something is not right.

Suffering … not in the epic sense of the grand heroic struggle, but in the dislocative sense that life is not as it should be.

Why is life dukkha? According to the Buddha, the second noble truth is that life is dukkha is because we desire.

“Of course, we desire. Why is that bad?”

Again, I stop and explain that the word the Buddha used (tanha) is probably better translated “selfishly grasp.”

We suffer because we grasp after things intended only to satisfy ourselves. We want things because we want them, and when we don’t get them, we experience suffering.

Our selfish grasping causes us to treat things as permanent, which things are only transitory (anicca).

I believe that this time love will last forever, that my new _________ (fill in the blank) won’t break, rust, expire, wear out, etc., that the body that has served me so well in the past will persist through time. When that which we grasp for inevitably stops working, leaves, runs dry we suffer.

Moreover, as the Buddha observed, we’re extremely proficient at lying to ourselves about the nature of our existence (anatta). We tell ourselves that the world we inhabit is the real world, and not just the world we perceive, that truth is an easy thing to possess for ourselves, and not for our enemies, that we are finally who we believe ourselves to be. When we find out the extent to which we cling to illusions, we suffer.

By now, my students are itching to argue with the Buddha. That’s when I break out the third noble truth.

The third noble truth consists in seeing the first two noble truths together as inextricably bound up with one another, then seeking to untangle them. The Buddha said that “If you want not to suffer, you must not selfishly grasp.”

“That’s fine for the Buddha; he gave everything away. He didn’t have anything left to hold onto.”

Exactly!

Jesus said something very much like this about 500 years later: “For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life?” (Mark 8:35–36).

So, here’s the thing. Churches are not unlike individuals in their mad scramble to hold onto something, to grasp after that which is impermanent.

Have you ever been to a church where desperation hangs in the air–the feeling that “we’ve got to do something, or we’re going to die?”

Have you ever been to a church where every meeting is punctuated by hand-wringing over money? The lack of young families? Declining worship attendance?

Have you ever been to a church where failure is not viewed as a learning experience, but as one more step down the inevitable path toward extinction?

Dukkha. Tanha. According to the Jesus and the Buddha, they’re causally related. The more you have of one, the more you can be sure you have of the other.

If you want not to suffer, you must relinquish your grasping. That is to say, you must disentangle yourself from that which causes your suffering. You must detach from those things, ideas, expectations to which you cling so desperately. Turn loose.

“Again, easy for you to say.”

But it’s not easy for me to say, and even harder for me to do. I didn’t say it was easy, only necessary. Jesus says the cost of the whole process is a cross, which is to say, death (Mk 8:34).

So, maybe the way to think about it looks something like this:

Have you ever been to a church that spends more time struggling over what to give away than what to keep–that is, expends more energy on the Outreach committee than on the Property committee?

Have you ever been to a church that sees its small youth group not as a disappointment, but as an opportunity to offer more focused ministry?

Have you ever been to a church that views its building as a present to the world and not as a bequest to its members?

Have you ever been to a church where worship is centered on the gift that is offered to God rather than on what individual participants “get out of it?”

Have you ever been to a church where truth is a friend and illusion is the thing to be avoided at all cost?

Have you ever been to a church in which justice is not just the securing of individual rights, but the pursuit of a vision of the reign of God in which there is no justice until it gets extended to everyone?

Letting go means relinquishing everything, perhaps even the life to which we cling so desperately.

Take heart, though, if you follow Jesus, you already have a pretty good idea what giving it all away looks like.

The Good News has 3 inseparable messages:
1) The universal accessibility of
1)..the personal and persistent unrestrained love and unconditional grace of God; and
2) The feeding quenching clothing healing visiting welcoming compassion and
2)..the reparative rehabilitating restorative justice of the Community; and
3) The inclusive hospitality and joyous generosity and healthy service of the Individual.
…………………………………………………………….RECLAIMING CHURCH – REDUX

The Good News is about being the Kingdom of God here and now. The Good News does not oppose the Empire. The Good News is constantly engaged in non-violently replacing the Empire with the Kingdom of God. To that end, having only a well-defined theology of love, grace, compassion, justice, hospitality, generosity, and service is not enough. The true measure is how that theology is lived and shared and how it imbues and informs the life of the disciple. The Good News is not about yearning for or being promised a future and distant post-mortal eternal reward as payment for a temporary existence marked by guilt-ridden culturally-acceptable behavior and tightly-held xenophobic beliefs. The Good News is about being and proclaiming and provoking the Kingdom of God here and now in all aspects of our lives. One such aspect is education, especially public K-12 education.

THE PURPOSE OF EDUCATION

What Is Not Education?
Education is not for the betterment of the local economy, the gross national product, or the global society. Education is not about transforming, unifying, or homogenizing society. Education is not a solution for the problems of society – neither problems that are persistent and universal nor problems that are uniquely contemporary. Education is not about providing competent trained workers for future employment. Education does not transform students into either an intellectual natural resource or a pool of human capital – these concepts have no basis or existence in reality. Education is not the means by which we can gain a national economic competitive edge over other nations. Education is not about preparing students for college. It is not an event in some imaginary ongoing international academic competition. Acquiring an education from a public school system is not an act of consumerism (Bracey 2008) because public education is not a product, not a business, not a manufacturing process, and not an industry. Neither competence in passing a specific test nor receiving narrowly focused training qualifies as an education (Houston 2007).

Such purposes and goals are wrong. Such purposes and goals cause a destructive mutation of the education process. Such purposes and goals subject children to treatment that must be labeled and rejected for what it is – criminally coercive and abusive.

The Six Purposes and Obligations of Education
First, the most important obligation of any education system is to recognize that each child is a unique individual – there is no such thing as a standard child (Rakow 2008). Any system that has any other primary obligation is neither about nor providing education. The uniqueness of each child requires unique accommodations. Instead of forcing a child into a predetermined or standardized schedule and set of expectations, we have an obligation to adapt to each child’s unique set of capabilities, boundaries, and rate of development. To do otherwise is counter-productive, if not harmful. Children are who they uniquely are. Children are not who we want them to be or who we think they are. Children are not indistinguishable widgets on an education assembly line (Johnson 2006).

The quality of an industrial product can be measured. An industrial process begins with specified and consistent raw materials that meet the requirements of the process. Then, in accordance with a pre-designed detailed plan, the raw materials are incrementally transformed into a finished product. At each step of the transformation process, there are standards that must be met for the process to continue and, eventually, successfully produce the expected final product. The continuous process is constantly producing identical finished products. Each finished product, within very tight tolerances, must meet specifications or be rejected. A specific quantifiable result is expected and each finished product must meet all predetermined expectations with a high degree of measurable precision. The metrics and processes used in industry and business to measure and achieve and control quality cannot and must not be applied to education. Students are not a raw material. There are no rejects. There cannot be a pre-specified final product. Education is not an industrial process.

A successful education can not be measured collectively. It can be measured only individually and only independent of the results and achievements of others. The education process is not a series of assembly-line increments occurring at fixed intervals at controllable rates with repeated predictable results. Education does not yield a predetermined finished product. The success of an education is not measured by how well it matches blueprint specifications. The success of an education is not measured by how well an individual can recall and repeat what has been learned. The success of an education is measured by how well an individual extends and expands and enriches what has been learned and uses what has been learned to solve problems and create solutions, to create new knowledge and new art. The end result of education cannot be designed or mapped. Education cannot use an unchanging collective blueprint expecting to manufacture identical results. Indeed, the end results of education must not be identical or even uniform. The end result of education is controlled by the unique internal, changing and maturing qualities of the individual student and not by any external expectations, designs, or controls. Education is a process of assisting individual intellectual growth, the discovery of personal strengths and talents, and the maturation of the person as an individual and a social being – a process that does not end with graduation from high school or college. Education has no end result – there is no final product, there is no finished inventory.

Education is only a part of an ongoing life-long process. Training and regimentation and indoctrination are used to make people more nearly identical in some skill or behavior or response or thought. Education is about enriching the natural uniqueness of each person (Houston 2007). Education increases diversity, differentiation, and variability among individuals and decreases uniformity and conformity (Eisner 2001). The sole focus of an education system is the individual child – not parents, not colleges, not corporations, not government, not society, not the economy, and not the future of any other single or group entity. The future is always and inescapably unpredictable, indiscernible, and unknowable – the future does not yet exist. It is irresponsibly presumptuous for any adult to choose a future for a child or to preemptively limit the future of a child. The whole spectrum of future possibilities of each child belongs only and entirely to that child.

Second, an education system has an obligation to discover the talents and strengths of each child, then nurture each child’s confidence in and mastery of those talents and strengths, and provide the opportunities and resources necessary for each child to concentrate and focus on their talents and strengths, explore them in-depth (Eisner 2001) and nurture them to their fullest potential – as chosen and desired by the child.

Third, an education system has an obligation to allow, encourage, and protect generous amounts of unstructured time for a child to engage in child-initiated child-organized freely-chosen play, to explore, and to be creative in serious thought and fanciful imagination – both in solitude and in cooperation with other children. (Bergen & Frombert 2009) (Chmelynski 2006) (Elkind 2001 p. xvii) (Ginsburg 2007) (Jacobson 2008) (Satcher 2005) “Play is essential to the cognitive, physical, social, and emotional well-being of children and youth.” “Play allows children to use their creativity while developing their imagination, dexterity, and physical, cognitive, and emotional strength. Play is important to healthy brain development.” “Play is integral to the academic environment. It ensures that the school setting attends to the social and emotional development of children as well as their cognitive development.” (Ginsburg 2007 p. 183)

Fourth, an education system has an obligation to promote within each child a constant self-awareness and self-knowledge and an independent personality, intellect, voice, and initiative. Education encourages a questioning spirit and stifles blind acceptance. The goal of education is to facilitate the acquisition by each child the capability for logical reasoning and evaluation, and the skills for: locating and gathering information, problem-solving, making plans and setting priorities, cooperating with a group without being subservient to the group, sharing knowledge and skills, and being able to earn respect in other cultures while being respectful toward those other cultures (Berliner & Biddle 1995 p. 301).

Fifth, the purpose of an education is to provide each child with the widest exposure to the best of human knowledge in all disciplines; and the widest variety of the best artistic descriptions and expressions of humanity and the human experience; and to provide ample opportunity to experience, understand, and appreciate the natural environment and learn good stewardship of natural resources.

Sixth, a successful education assists each child in acquiring the intellectual and social tools to traverse the world, retaining at least a cautious, if not enthusiastic, curiosity and become a person who is open to, and even desires, continuous life-long learning. Education enables learning. At its best, education inspires a joy for learning (Rakow 2008). Education does not subvert learning to a test score, a hurdle, an obstacle to be conquered, or just another difficult life passage that just has to be endured (Eisner 2001).

What is an Educator?
There is no such thing as “teaching” or a “teacher.” There is no way any “teacher” can force knowledge into the mind of a student who is not present, willing, and engaged. There is no research that demonstrates a humane teaching method that is so universally efficient, effective, and largely and continuously successful that the teacher using the method can be held accountable for the results regardless of the participation and attitude of the student (Ediger 2007). In the way the word is commonly used, there is no such thing as “teaching.” There is only learning – a life-long, complex and multi-dimensional, internal individual process unique to each person (Crain 2008)(Driscoll 2005 p. 2)(Johnson 2006). No matter the education or years of experience, the hours of lesson preparation, the quality and intensity and creativity of the lesson presentation – nothing is learned until the student “gets it” (Driscoll 2005 p. 22) – a task and process over which the educator has no control and for which no educator and no school can be held accountable. There is no such thing as teaching that forcibly, controllably, and measurably inserts knowledge or skills into a student. There is only learning.

Well documented are the many ways in which children, starting at birth or earlier, learn on their own (Crain 2005, pp. 143-145) – for example: object permanence (even though mother is out of sight, mother still exists) (Crain 2005 pp. 120-121, 310-312), eye-hand coordination, vocabulary and grammar (Crain 2005 pp. 69-70, 349-359), walking – to name a few. There is no evidence that this internal ability to learn solitarily is ever replaced or largely supplanted by an external process. A normal healthy person never releases or loses the ability to learn. Learning is solely a capability and responsibility of the individual student. Learning is only in the internal cognitive domain of the individual student. It is the student who has to acquire, retain, and integrate new knowledge. It is the student who either assimilates the new knowledge within his or her existing knowledge set or it is the student who must accommodate the new knowledge by redefining or reorganizing his or her existing knowledge set (Crain 2005 p. 115)(Berliner & Biddle 1995 p. 303). Regardless of how the new knowledge is integrated, all of it happens only within the mind of the student – and only if the student is capable – and only if the student makes it happen.

Educators who are well-qualified, caring, and dedicated are critically important and absolutely necessary to the fulfillment of the purposes and obligations of education. Educators are knowledge experts and instructional presenters and trainers and facilitators and guides and mentors and motivators (Bartholomew 2007). An educator is the catalyst that makes learning easier (Merkle 2008) and “more intense and lasting” (Smyth 2005). The traditional concept that an educator can – somehow or in any way – shove knowledge into the mind of a student is false and invalid to the point of being knee-slapping gut-busting laughing-out-loud ludicrous. The true role of the educator is to be an astute observer of each student’s level of mastery, make note of what specific difficulties a student had in obtaining that level of mastery, assess the student’s preparedness and receptiveness for new knowledge, and choose the appropriate methodology for either reenforcement of knowledge currently being learned or progressing to learning new knowledge (Crain 2005 pp. 239-240)(Ediger 2007). A good educator is: a responsive coach, an enthusiastic cheerleader for student efforts and achievements, a servant-leader (Greenleaf 2008), an efficient and effective manager and provider of classroom assets, subject-knowledgeable, available, accessible, affirming, supportive, a gentle guide for the first learning step and for each transition to the next level of learning (Crain 2005 pp. 239-240), manages an age-appropriate richly-stimulating learning environment, and provides an atmosphere of joy (McReynolds 2008). It is not about teaching, it is about reaching.

Educators cannot be held accountable for what students learn. Educators can be held accountable for their professional behavior and use of best practices – just like any other licensed professional. Education is not a technical trade. As a profession, education is built upon personal expertise in concepts and rules and expertise in observing and analyzing how those concepts and rules can best be applied to each student. As a profession, education cannot be constrained to predefined sequences and timelines or inescapably bound by externally chosen tasks. As a professional, an educator must have the liberty to take advantage of new tools, new methods, spontaneous opportunities for object lessons or meaningful tangents, or to initiate a new activity – even on the spur of the moment. Professional accountability sets high standards for personal conduct and for the quality of the service delivered. As long as those standards are met, it is the personal expertise of the individual professional that determines which methods are to be used to fulfill their professional obligations. Implicit within professional accountability is trust and freedom, not blame and control. “While you can beat people into submission, you can’t beat them into greatness” (Houston, 2007, p. 747).

SUMMARY
Education has an obligation to recognize at all times the unique state of developmental readiness of each individual child, the universal necessity for play, and to protect and enable the right of each child to have a life and future of their own choosing that aligns with their unique strengths, talents, and interests. The purpose of education is to enable the widest and most diverse possibilities for the future of each child. It is only the unique strengths, talents, and interests of the individual child that should limit possibilities or choose a specific path.

References
Bartholomew, B. (2007 April). Why we can’t always get what we want. Phi Delta Kappan, 88(8), 593-598.

Bergen, D. & Frombert, D. P. (2009 February). Play and social interaction in middle childhood. Phi Delta Kappan, 426-430.

Berlinger, D. C., & Biddle, B. J. (1995). The Manufactured Crisis. New York: Basic Books.

Bracey, G. W. (2008 June). Research: Assessing NCLB. Phi Delta Kappan, 89(10),781-782.

Chmelynski, C. (2006 November). Play teaches what testing can’t touch: Humanity. The Education Digest, 10-13

Crain, W. (2005). Theories of Development: Concepts and Applications, 5th Ed. Upper Saddle River, NJ: Pearson/Prentice Hall.

Crain, W. (2008). Personal email, July 3, 2008.

Driscoll, M. P. (2005). Psychology of Learning for Instruction, 3rd. Ed. Boston: Allyn and Bacon.

Ediger, M. (2007 September). Teacher observation to assess student achievement. Journal of Instructional Psychology, 34(3), 137-139.

Eisner, E. W. (2001 January). What does it mean to say a school is doing well? Phi Delta Kappan, 82(5), 367-372.

Elkind, D. (2001). The hurried child: growing up too fast too soon, 3rd Ed. Cambridge, MA: Da Capo Press.

Ginsburg, K. R. and the Committee on Communications and the Committee on Psychosocial Aspects of Child and Family Health. (2007 January). The importance of play in promoting healthy child development and maintaining strong parent-child bonds. Pediatrics, 119(1), 182-191. Retrieved April 25, 2009 from www.pediatrics.org

Greenleaf Center for Servant Leadership (2008). http://www.greenleaf.org/index.html

Houston, P. D. (2007 June). The seven deadly sins of no child left behind. Phi Delta Kappan, 88(10), 744-748.

Jacobson, L. (2008, December 3). Children’s lack of playtime seen as troubling health, school issue. Education Week, 28(14) 1-15. Retrieved April 25, 2009 from Academic Search Premier database.

Johnson, A. P. (2006 Sept/Oct). No Child Left Behind: Factory models and business paradigms. Clearing House, 80(1), 34-36.

Merkle, L. D. (2008) personal email, July 21, 2008.

McReynolds, K. (2008 Spring). Children’s happiness. Encounter: education for meaning and social justice, 21(1), 43-48.

Rakow, S. R. (2008 Winter). Standards based v. standards-embedded curriculum: Not just semantics! Gifted Child Today, 31(1), 43-49.

Satcher, D. (2005 September). Healthy and ready to learn. Educational Leadership, 26-30

Smyth, T. S. (2005 Fall). Respect, reciprocity, and reflection in the classroom. Kappa Delta Pi Record, 42(1), 38-41.

If you’re interested in the emergent conversation, check out this Pub Theology Conversation With Steve Knight and Phil Shepherd.

Parenting has many changes, and some are easier than others, and sometimes there are changes that you do not expect.  I recall Mindi, my wife, did not want to use a pacifier, however on the second day of A.J.’s life I was sent out to find what will become known as his “binky.”  The first two years A.J. seemed to always have his binky.

We discussed different methods of getting him parted from his binky.  Originally it was based around reasoning with him, such as giving all his binkies to a younger baby who needed them or perhaps a little trickery that included the “binky fairy.”  However, A.J. to this day still does not communicate (part of his autism) on the level one would need for either of those plans to have a chance to work.  We got him into a Headstart program starting shortly after he turned three, and while we had at least weaned him to only have the binky when he slept or napped, he would not be allowed to have one for nap time at the center.  He would rarely fall asleep without the pacifier in place.

We dreaded taking the binky from him, but if we wanted him to nap at Headstart he was going to have to learn to sleep without it. Not to mention we knew he was sometimes going to “nap” just to have the binky time, but not sleep.  We considered just not giving it to him, cold turkey, but how could we explain why since he does not communicate?  My wife found a great idea– she was going to cut off the nub and hand him the binky and say it was broken.  So that was the plan.  We kept putting it off, for we liked him sleeping at night and an occasional nap.  We were terrified and convinced he would not sleep well, and thus keep us up.  Since we felt we knew what this change would entail, we even picked a week where it seemed less of a burden.

So we even threw out all binkies, save the one Mindi cut the bulb off, no turning back.  She handed him the broken binky at bed time as she usually would, saying, “Mama broke it.”  He looked at it and laughed and laughed.  He held it and fell asleep almost as quickly as normal.  The next night he laughed as well.  By the end of the week he wasn’t even looking for the binky.

We delayed this process for fear of what we knew certainly would happen.  Honestly, we can often predict our son’s behavior, and it is smart to be prepared, hence the diaper bag filled not only with pull-ups, but snacks, books, straws, crayons, coloring pages, and of course wipes for any sort of mess.

During the Transfiguration, Peter came up the mountain saw the great event and assumed making booths to contain and hold this event was the answer.  This assumption came out of fear, as it says in the scripture, and I believe this not only refers to this specific moment on the mountain, but the inevitable resurrection.  Jesus even tells them to hold onto this sign and God’s command to listen to Him, after He had been raised from the dead.

We know what Peter witnessed, that the tomb was empty and the change was not the change we were terrified of—death—it was resurrection.  To contain the church of the good ol’ days, to believe we know the Bible, to worry about change we are terrified of actually doing, having programs without vision–this is how we try to put Jesus in a booth.  We need to share the empty tomb, the great change, the laughter over death, the Resurrection!!!

Scene: An interview
Setting: The church parlor
Characters: Pastoral search committee and the candidate

First Church of the greater metropolitan area just west of the bypass has seen its pastor of more than two decades retire. The congregation has entered into the search process with great trepidation, and perhaps a small amount of expectancy. On the one hand, their retired pastor is the only pastor many of them can remember. On the other hand, many people who’ve carried the load for so long are excited about the prospect of the new energy they believe a new pastor will bring.

The pastoral search committee is made up, for the most part, of faithful members–which means that almost all of them have been chairperson of the board (session, consistory, etc.) at one time or another. The congregation sought to offer a good cross-section of the membership on the search committee, but a “good cross-section”–owing to a dearth of young people–invariably means that the median age is upwards of 50. There are two young people in their thirties (both with children), the search chair is careful to point out. They have, as everyone is quick to acknowledge with nodding heads, “the core of a children’s program,” upon which, they hope (perhaps a bit too fervently) that the young minister will help them build.
They greet the candidate in the nicest room in the church, having laid out a tray of Snickerdoodles and a carafe of designer coffee, hoping to give off a good impression.

Search chair: “Welcome! We can’t tell you how glad we are that you’ve agreed to meet with us. We’ve read your pastoral profile (resume, C.V., etc.), and we’re extremely impressed with what you’ve managed to accomplish. Additionally, your references are all quite positive.”

Candidate: “Thank you. I appreciate your invitation. You have a lovely church. My compliments on the Snickerdoodles!”

Search chair: “We’ve devised a set of questions, which we’ve divided up among ourselves. I think we’ll let Arthur go first. He’s sung in the choir for years, and was, if I’m not mistaken, in one of the first off-Broadway productions of Guys and Dolls. I believe he’s going to speak with you about your feelings on worship styles. Arthur?”

The conversation carries on for quite some time, ranging over a wide spectrum of topics:

• What does a typical day look like for you?
• Would you rather we take out radio advertisements to announce your cell phone number, or should we just publish it at the top of the first page on the web site?
• What is your strategy for growing our church? Take a quick shot; we know there’ll be minor changes.
• What committee assignments will your spouse be assuming? Only chair of one, though. We like to look out for the pastor’s family.
• Do you have any felony arrests? Arrest warrants? Arrests without convictions? Have you ever spoken with the police?
• What things do you believe, things that we haven’t thought to ask you, but that might come back to embarrass us should they become known?[1]

Finally, the questioning process makes its way around to Gladys.

Gladys: We’ve got good leadership in this church. The problem, though, is most of us have been at it for a long time. We’re tired. We’re looking for a pastor who can develop young leaders. What will you do to train up leaders to take our place?

Arthur: I don’t mean to step on Gladys’ question, but this one is crucial. We’ve had great leadership here in the past, but time marches on, and all that. We’re extremely concerned that the new pastor attract and train young leaders. We’ve had our time. Now, we want to hand the baton to another generation.”

Candidate: I’m very interested in developing new leadership, investing them with the authority to make the kinds of adjustments necessary for the congregation to change and adapt to new social realities.

Search chair: (Nervous chuckle) I’m sorry, I thought I heard you say, “change and adapt.”

“Oh, now he’s going to start with the beating-up-on-lay-people-thing again.”

Sorry. That last one was sitting on a tee.

No. It’s too easy to say all churches are old, staid, and intransigent. It’s not necessarily true, nor would my saying it again be particularly interesting.

I’m more interested in another dynamic … grandparents.

In Which I Reflect on What It Means to Be a Grandparent

I was in a church one time that announced it was ready to bring in and develop young leadership. Yay! Music to a young minister’s ears.

Turns out, the folks in charge did want very badly to bring in young leadership–but not to lead. The old guard wanted fresh blood to take over the work, while retaining veto power.

I had a colleague at the time who said, “What that church needs is some people who know how to be grandparents.”

I asked what she meant.

“You spend so much time during your adult years, raising your kids. Then, one day, they’re grown up and gone. You grieve, but you figure out how to go on. Then, one day, they show back up at your house with babies. Now, your kids have kids of their own. And something shifts dramatically. Your place in the world is different now.”

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“At first it’s kind of exciting. The babies cry and fuss. You haven’t done this in awhile, so you’re kind of relieved when they pack up and go home.”

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“But as time wears on, you have to sit and watch their parenting decisions. These decisions, many of them, are not the kind of decisions you would have made. In some cases, they do the exact opposite of what you’d do.”

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“So, you start wondering: Are they doing things differently because they thought we did a bad job? Does their failure to raise their kids the way we raised themamount to a repudiation of our parenting?”

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“And your first impulse is to try to correct your children’s obviously shoddy parenting decisions. ‘No, dear,’ you say, ’don’t you think it would be better if you didn’t let little Sally eat quite so much kale?”

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“You comfort yourself with the rationalization that you’re just trying to help. You’ve got years of parenting experience, after all. You’re doing them a favor. If they don’t listen, you owe it to them to press the point a bit harder.”

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“Sooner or later, though, you come to realize that you’ve made it about you–and it’s not about you. It’s not even about the legacy you’ve left them; it’s about allowing them the grace and the freedom to take what you’ve given them, and let them become who God wants for them to be.”

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“Grandparenting is about biting your tongue and watching your kids make mistakes.”

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“It’s about standing by and watching them throw up your mistakes from their childhood to you, while choosing to do something completely different.”

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“It’s about standing by and applauding them when they accomplish something you could never in your wildest imagination see them doing, as well as stooping down to help pick up the pieces of their failed dreams.”

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“That church,” my colleague said, “needs some folks to learn how to let go and be good grandparents.”

“We need young leaders!”

Yes. The church needs young leaders.

But just as importantly, the church needs some good grandparents.

It gets better, though, because Anthony begins to really understand why Jesus calls us away from our possessions. See, all those things that we cling to, they keep us from dealing with ourselves. That’s what Anthony got to learn out there in the wilderness, that all those pleasant distractions help us forget about the Self, that is our worst enemy. Anthony’s famous for wrestling with those demons out there in the sand, but the worst part of his struggle was the temptation to give in to sin and evil, centered ultimately in Self.

Anthony woulda made a great Buddhist, as he teaches us to cling to nothing, not even, and especially, the Self. Anthony would also made a great Mulsim, because he teaches that our greatest struggle–in Arabic, jihad–is with the sin that we allow into and control over our Self. But in the end, Anthony became one of the great Christians of all time. Jesus calls us to give up everything, not just so we can find our way to God. That’s actually the easy part. Jesus calls us into the desert life so we can also confront our Self, and the sin that we keep all nice and tucked up within it. When we understand the discipline it takes to make the Self a servant of God, rather than a servant of wordly possessions, or the sin that creeps so easily within, we understand the life Jesus leads us all to live on our way to God.

Now, I obviously don’t live in the desert, and certainly have just as many possessions as anyone else! So I usually have to improvise to make my way to a “desert.” I have found it now and then. I push all my possessions away, and take a deep breath into my Self. I wrestle wtih all the demons that I find there, and confront the worst of Me. Right in the midst of this cloudy and cluttered world that Anthony fled. I still have the luxury of returning to all my distractions, but I do look forward to the day when I don’t. Yea, by God’s grace, and a lot of work, I’ll just go set up some lean-to somewhere–the middle of one of those big old cemeteries has always appealed to me- and take up this life of a monk, a “monad”–alone, like Anthony…like Jesus. Like Siddartha, and Muhammad, and the great saints of God’s Truth. Alone with the gift of the Self God gives me, that, with discipline, leads me right to her…

St. Anthony of Egypt, please pray for all of us, especially as the Lenten season approaches….that God may help us find our way to our deserts, and into Her heart, and a more complete Self, as certainly as She helped you….

Maternity leave is a relatively new concept for many churches.  Many congregations are not used to their pastor needing to take time off to have or adopt a baby.  Most congregations don’t expect fathers to take time off for paternity leave as well.  As seasoned pastors retire and younger clergy enter pastoral ministry, it is time to rethink our family/maternity/paternity leave policies.  I blogged my “top ten tips” for considering family leave for clergy and congregations last summer.  Please check out that post, along with your congregational and denominational guidelines to family leave.  Remember that sometimes denominational guidelines are seen as just that—“guidelines”—and aren’t always adequate.

I had a baby during my last pastorate.  But before I had my child, I went through six years of professional, full-time pastoral ministry, first as an associate and then as a Senior Minister, without a family leave policy in place.  As an associate the first church I served refused to add in maternity leave “because you aren’t married.”  Then when I became married, they said it would have to be negotiated in the future.  At that point, I was already looking to move on from that position.  At the second church I served as a Senior Minister, it was not included in my original contract and it took two years before they would include a policy for family leave.  As it was, it was finally unanimously approved by the Board of Finance less than a month before I announced my pregnancy at the end of my first trimester.  That’s cutting it close.

For an institution that is supposed to be like a family, to have a leader that models Godly family life, to not support families when they grow and expand is hypocrisy.  Clergy who are pregnant need a full paid maternity leave.  They need time to recover from birth and bond with their new little one.  They need not be worried or stressed about finances or benefits during this time.  Same goes for the spouse of one giving birth.  I have met far too many male clergy members who were not allowed any paid paternity time, or very little.  When bonding between infant and parents is most crucial during the first six weeks after birth, why would our church structures deny this basic need to its clergy and families at such an early stage?

And then there is the case of adoption.  Unlike a maternity leave that can be planned at least a few months in advance of the arriving child, adoption is waiting, waiting, waiting—and then it happens all at once.  It’s not something that can be planned out and known ahead of time.

I was blessed in the birth of my son in that when he arrived late and I had complications in my recovery, my congregation did not once mention money as a concern.  There first and foremost concern was me and my family.  They called us and prayed for us.  They set up a meal schedule for us.  They did not worry that my return date was going to be delayed a month nor that I could not return to a full-time schedule at first.  There was no question about continuing to pay me or my benefits.  The church ministered to me and my family.  They modeled a Christ-like response and care for me.  And that is how it ought to be, every time.

But again, like benefits as I mentioned last week, if you don’t advocate for them, you won’t get them.  Clergy and congregations need to advocate for family leave and they need to do it in contract negotiations.  Clergy need to do this whether they are married/partnered or single.  You never know when your circumstances will change.  And you need to do it not only for yourself, but for the pastor that comes after you.

Churches should be the most family-friendly institution and instead, we find our clergy often overworked, underpaid, not receiving the benefits they should, and not receiving the same benefits and care for their families as they should.

Overall, family leave is one of the least costly benefits to provide.  Most congregational policies I have seen require full pay and benefits, but churches do not have to pay for mileage or other professional expenses during this time.  Some churches that grant longer leaves may need to hire a short-term interim, but in my case and in the case of many others, it’s treated just like any vacation time would be: the church pays for pulpit supply and has a minister on-call for emergencies.  When my church finally budgeted for my family leave, they only budgeted for the preaching supply.  And when my leave needed to be extended, there was no concern (at least that I was made aware of, and I was usually made aware about budget concerns!) about going over the budget for the preaching supply as it was only a few more weeks.

So my challenge is this: for congregations to provide at minimum two months of paid family leave with the option of adding vacation time, and for clergy to all advocate for family leave in their contract negotiations.  Even if you never plan on having children, remember the person who will come after you.  For male clergy, I suggest advocating for a full family leave time as well—so that it isn’t unusual should a female clergy member follow you, or should you or someone else choose to adopt in the future.

And don’t forget, advocate for paid health care for your entire family.  Most plans (but not all) are the same cost for a family of three or more as they are for a family of two, though there are some plans that are broken down by number of members in the family.  Many healthcare plans offered by denominational bodies also don’t cover full maternity care.  Before my husband and I decided to have a child, we had to change insurance plans to one that did cover maternity.  If we hadn’t, we would have had to pay out of pocket at least 20% of the costs.  The plan we found covered everything after an initial copay and deductible.  Be sure to check your insurance policy and advocate for one that is more family friendly.

Advocate, advocate, advocate.  We clergy need to speak out and speak up for our families and for each other, to assure not only that we are cared for, but that we can be models of Godly families in the future, and also for our congregations to recognize the need to model God’s family in the congregational life.