|
Dear St. Christopher’s Family,
Sir Thomas More: Why not be a teacher? You'd be a fine teacher; perhaps a great one.
Richard Rich: If I was, who would know it?
Sir Thomas More: You; your pupils; your friends; God. Not a bad public, that. Oh, and a quiet life.
Every year, the Back-to-School season catches me flat-footed. Even now, all these years since I was a classroom teacher (Middle School Latin), I get a little tightness in my chest when August comes around. The joke among teachers is that going into one of the big box stores with the BTS sale signs is like a vampire walking into a store full of crosses made of garlic. But I’ve also watched our own school welcome students this week with all the joys and terrors and hopes and fears that come with new beginnings. Especially with preschoolers, it becomes clear that all the misadventures that make up their daily life are, in fact, the most important things happening, for them and for us as well.
This is where those good teachers come in. We all remember one from growing up: not just one who modeled learning, but who made us feel like we were capable of something we hadn’t seen in ourselves yet. The best teachers made us feel like the most important person in the world, and thus became, for just an instant, the most important person in our lives.
As disciples, we’re called to do much the same thing. The church is for us something of a refuge (an Ark, if you will). For the world, though, the church’s disciples are called to be those who go out and give meaning to even the least of our neighbors. For someone today, you can be the most important person in their life. Often it will be a child, a parent, or a spouse. But it’s also the kid in the drive-thru window, or the driver who cuts you off, or someone you smile and say hello to. You could be a fine disciple, perhaps a great one. And who would know it? All of those people; your friends; God. Not a bad public, that.
|
