Part I
Whatās Going On?
To what can I compare this generation?
āMatthew 11:16
Sitting in the back of the theology class, we looked around to see some students writing notes in the margin of their notebooks, while others huddled together in discussion, and yet several peers raised their hands. Our eyes were full of wonder at this person we called āDoctor.ā His classes were thrilling and left us to marvel, even later, at what made this personās teaching so exciting that students crowded his courses and wanted to continue in discussion with him long after the dismissal. With great fondness we remember this professor who remained in our lives over the next twenty years, and from whom we are still learning.
In seminary, we found the books tedious. Digesting the voluminous information was difficult. The path to become ministers required we get graduate theology degrees. We both came as devout Christians, each growing up in congregations where we attended Sunday school, studied Scripture inside and out, became committed followers, and discipled others. We worked in churches and on college campuses teaching Bible studies and focusing on evangelistic activities. A solid foundation provided a positive experience.
While our background readied us with Christian bedrock, it did not prepare us for graduate education. The first weekās assignment for Old Testament included reviewing the books of the Pentateuch and seventy-five pages of a book on biblical criticism that made reading the obituaries more fun. We attended a church administration course where even the brightest students struggled to keep their eyes open. We thrashed through Greek and Hebrew, endured preaching, and found our way to the voluminous reference materials in the library. So, to find a teacher who captured our attention and hearts was amazing.
In looking back, we recall this professorās unique mannerisms and how he phrased things, mispronouncing terms by placing enunciation on non-dominant syllables and using pithy statements. His application of artistry to faith and his travels around the world became part of the lessons. We laughed as he seemed to chase rabbits during lectures only to discover the pertinence of the information on the next exam. Not one word was wasted. He carefully chose his words, but more than anything, he treated us like we could think. This professor showed a genuine interest in our lives and what we were doing. Whether analyzing theology in a movie, helping with a dinner for distinguished guests, or writing a poem for a studentās ordination service, this teacher showed his care for students. Then he sent Christmas cards with letters until his death. His engagement left an indelible impression. He taught us how to teach by modeling discovery learning.
This concept provides a solid foundation as we continue our journey as educators, chaplains, ministers, and counselors. We hope to introduce and encourage a theory of dynamic teaching which allows ample room for participant voices and casts a vision for other teachers as they lead adults in spiritual formation. We begin by deconstructing methods that do not work.
Chapter 1
Thoughtful Observations
What did you go out into the wilderness to see?
āMatthew 11:7
Motivating learners has taken us to various parts of the United States. Moving from the cosmopolitan area of San Francisco to the harsh winters of North Dakota, and then on to hot summers in Texas and Oklahoma, we worked in ministry and volunteered wherever possible. From there, we traveled and trained others in the mountains of Pennsylvania and the Land of Enchantment (New Mexico). We taught in Sunday school, in churches, at retreats, on college campuses, in small and large groups, and through online platforms. This journey of education and studying exposed us to variant forms of instruction, some inspiring but others not so good.
Several times, we took part in classes, most often in church settings. Some were informative, some boring, and some disappointing. We marveled at how many leaders did not understand how to teach adults. They lectured or preached at us. We entered groups labeled as ādiscussionā only to find little discourse, and a few people viewed our questions as interruptive processes to the lesson. Sometimes, we kept silent and other times said too much, forsaking acceptance in our efforts to be honest and truthful.
One time, we asked about the Scripture passage, questioning in a speculative and provocative way. The verses were troublesome, indicative of discriminatory and abusive practices. We would not accept the platitudes offered but continued to query in different ways until the teacher grew silent, and someone raised the Bible and accused us of not believing in āthe word of God.ā But thatās not what we wanted to communicate. We desired to engage the communal thoughts of the group to examine the meaning and purpose of this abstruse section and how it translates into Christian practice.
Other times we would leave class, frustrated at the lack of skill, and what seemed to be indoctrination of the audience or the narrow focus of what the instructor professed to be the truth. We remember moments when we both looked at one another as if to say, āWeāve had enough.ā We wanted to pull these teachers aside and introduce them to the endless spiritual formative possibilities for the people and themselves. Just a few tips might help them, but we often slid out early, never revisiting.
In our years together, we took part in thousands of Bible studies and taught as many. Having different gifts, we possess expertise in asking insightful questions, facilitating discussion, and using experiential practices, which solidify the objectives. Classes come alive with our abilities in organizing and presenting complex information in creative ways. Our combined teaching skills help to change lives. We desire people to experience transformative lessons.
Sometimes we are in settings honoring adult learning, bringing revolutionary changes. These experiences remain through the years and continue to teach us as we reflect on them. Kathy attended a breakout course where new ideas emerged. Signing up for something different, her friends swept her away amid her groaning to enjoy a session on poetry as a therapeutic medium. While the leaders spoke of their use of lyrics and metaphors with struggling people, they encouraged participants to write a haiku. The conference speakers then informed the crowd that colleagues might share at the end of the session. As Kathy started her writing, an impression surfaced and ripened into a lesson she applied outside of the seminar. Hereās the verse she wrote and shared with the group:
Simplistic, isnāt it? One would assume this poem is about sunrise, but itās so much more. The prose speaks to the vulnerability of humans who share their inner world, uncovering themselves, but then receding away from disclosure in the act of protection. The idea communicates both the courage and difficulty in exposing oneās core to others, revealing insecurity and fear of judgment, and points toward either shrinking from openness or finding a resolution. How can she accomplish this? Now her journey includes a practice of self-reflection on how to trust Godās timing and discerning appropriate moments to reveal her thoughts.
Had it not been for Kathyās unintentional visit to this class, she would never have explored the issue. Were it not for the safety created by the leaders reassuring all participants that they could do this, that n...