The Dangers of Moral Relativism: 2nd Grade Style

Me: Many years ago, our government made a law that says that babies inside their mom's bellies are not human. Many people in our country believe that you are not really a person until after you are born. This means that many people do not love babies inside their moms as much as they should.  But God has taught us through the Church that the moment a baby starts being inside its mother, that baby is a human life that is loved by God and should be loved by us.

Student: Why is it so bad that some people don't believe it?

Me: It's bad because it isn't the truth.

Student: But why can't a person just believe whatever he wants to? Nobody else has to believe it, just him.

Me: It's a problem because it teaches other people that it's okay to believe what is wrong. It's never just about one person believing something. Plus, it's the government's responsibility to take care of everyone in the country.  When they teach people that it's okay to believe things that aren't true, they aren't doing a very good job of taking care of people, are they?

Student: No. They aren't. I wish that governor would listen to all those people telling him he is wrong.

*** Just to clarify, we were not talking about one SPECIFIC governor. My students are second graders, fine distinctions are still difficult.***

It's Official...

...from a prepping stand-point, my Christmas Break is over.

Before Christmas, I had my students create their own fill-in-the-blank mini-books. Here is page 4 of a sweet little girl's book. (The underlined portion is what she wrote. Not underlined = the provided prompt.)


This holiday is important because it is Jesus' birthday for crying out loud!

Good to know she gets it. I hope she always remembers it.

The Most Common Question

The thing that most people in my life want to know is how my school year is going.  I find it a difficult question to answer.  It's going well.  There is nothing wrong with it, nothing I would change.  Well.  Except the 5:15 wake up, the 30 minute drive, all the time on my feet, the super rushed eating of lunch, the challenge of making everything I have to do fit into the amount of time I have ... you know.  Just a few things. :-)

Oh, but even those things are not so bad.

It's ironic really.  For so long I lamented over not having my own classroom with my own procedures, supplies, ideas, and general way of doing things. Now that I have those things, I find that I wish I had someone (an over 5ft tall, adult someone who does NOT call me Miss Hunter) with whom to share them.  I don't always like being alone.

It is also interesting how some times my students seem normal sized to me.  I don't necessarily think of them as children.  It's only when I stop and look at them, really look at them, that I can see just how small they really are.  Not only small in size, but in the ways of the world.  It is not that they are naive; they see and feel brokenness.  I just see that they are beautiful children, clearly made the image and likeness of God. But again, I only see that when I take the time to pause and really see.

Perhaps that is part of why childhood is stripped away so easily in today's world.  Unless we take the time to really see who children are, we easily forget that they are small.  The acknowledgment of that smallness makes all the difference. Suddenly, I am compelled to transform the way I relate to them. I owe them the extra moment it takes for me to smile.  I owe them the pause before my words that changes my voice from impatient to warm and encouraging.  I owe them the diligence it takes to train and discipline.

I owe them my sacrifices.

I owe them because when I pause and look at them, I see the way to the Heavenly Kingdom.  They are showing me the path to God.

Eternity

I was reminded again tonight of how essential our ministry is. I was reminded of how important, how significant each and every conversation should be (and is).

We are always, at every moment, dealing with eternal souls that will either live in the sheer bliss of the beatific vision or suffer in the eternal devastation of no God.

We are gifts. We've been given to one another - to lead, to guide, to direct.  Whether it is the child in my care, the student in my classroom, the teen in the youth group, the family member at home, or the friend on the phone, I am meant as a gift from God to that person. To lead, to guide, and to direct. Which way am I leading? Were does my direction send?

Am I a champion of salvation? Do I encourage others in their journey towards God, helping them to discover His will and His love?

I should be. In fact, this is a matter of such utter importance that I have no time not to be.

This is urgent.

This is salvation. It is life everlasting. It is THE journey, and we are meant to travel together.

Discerning Through the Noise

Tomorrow I go to my classroom and begin setting up. As this time approaches, I've become increasingly overwhelmed at the prospect of actually teaching. For a full year. Just me.

You know, after studying to be a teacher for 4 years, spending a semester student teaching, and dreaming about teaching my whole life, I've come to realize that it seems almost idiotic that school administrators and parents everywhere trust new teachers. I'm so young. I know so little. I have virtually no experience. And someone thought it would a good idea to give me a classroom and students all my own.

In the event that someone reading this is suddenly worried that they should contact my school and express deep concern about having me teach, I beg you to continue reading before you do so.

I was born for this. Whether teaching becomes a life-long career or merely something I did for a few years after college, I was made, in the image and likeness of God, to teach. I do not doubt that. He designed me with a heart that cares deeply, that loves learning, and that desires to bring Him glory in a classroom.

I've been given a mission. This is my calling.

As I sit here tonight, a myriad of suggestions and opinions runs through my head. I've read in numerous books, heard in countless class lectures, and been advised in conversation on how best to organize and run my classroom. For the authors of those books, the writers and delivers of those lectures, and the dear friends of those conversations, I am grateful.

However, I have come to see that those things cause me great anxiety. I can't remember enough. I can't choose between all of the great ideas. I can't imagine myself doing those things. I know that I'm going to walk into that school tomorrow and begin. When I imagine the other teachers stopping by, my heart beat increases and breath quickens. I have anxiety.

How can I explain my ideas to them?  If they question the way I am doing things, how can I defend my choices? After all, they have done this before; I have not.

But none of them are me. And I was born for this. I was created in the image and likeness of God to teach. He designed me with a heart for this.

While my decisions are far from infallible, they are the decisions of a person who, in surrender to the will of God, has said yes to this year and all that it may bring. God has given me grace for this. God will continue giving me grace for this.  There is a degree to which I have to know and trust myself.  Because there is a degree to which, in doing so, I come to better know and trust God.

The Mission and Purpose of Catholic Education

Perhaps you have heard; perhaps not.

A Catholic School in Denver refused future enrollment to two students who are in the custody of a lesbian couple.  Of course, the school and Catholic community within the diocese has heard a lot of criticism regarding the matter.  The archbishop's statement can be read here.

For some reason, it is hard for me pinpoint what I think about this. Other than my inclination to trust the decision of the Bishop, I honestly have mixed thoughts.

My very first reaction, before the person who first shared this information with me had even finished, was a positive one. I love when the hard truths of Catholicism are defended at high cost. I was proud of the courage found in this decision.

Then my thoughts became a bit clouded. Are these children being punished (denied an education in the fullness of truth) for the sins of their caretakers? The children have done nothing wrong. In fact, they are so young that they can not have any idea the gravity of the choices being made within their home environment.  By denying them enrollment in the school, is the Church failing to love the sinner? Better yet (because the children are not the sinners), is the Church failing at an opportunity for the evangelization of the children?


Although, there is something to be said for avoiding scandal. In his letter to the Corinthians, St. Paul makes it clear that a person in sin should be removed from the community.  It would be difficult to allow the students to attend the school while keeping the lesbian couple away from the community. In fact, because of the belief in Catholic education that parents are the primary educators of their children, it would be nearly impossible for the School to remain true to that belief - with it comes the necessity of parental involvement.

What it seems to come down to is this: what is the mission and purpose of Catholic schools? If the purpose is (as the bishop of Denver indicates) to create an environment in which children can be educated within the moral boundaries of Catholicism, without worry of outside influence, then, clearly, the correct decision has been made. However, if there is a strong pull for evangelization within the mission, my previous points begin to bear more weight. (...I said that as if I had drawn a direct conclusion...)