Month: October 2020

In college, a woman from my Art History class handed me a tiny Bible made from two fun-size Hershey’s, tin foil and some felt.

“Happy Reformation Day!” she said as she thrust the minuscule package into my hand. My mind shot back to freshman year world history when I learned that October 31st was a real church holiday. October 31, 1517 is known as the day Martin Luther nailed the 95 Theses to the door of the church in Wittenberg, and that rainy 8am lecture was the first time I had witnessed someone actually celebrating the day we commemorate the start of the Protestant Reformation.

I will say that Luther’s protest against the Catholic church’s sale of indulgences (slips of paper guaranteeing an already-passed loved one’s entrance into Heaven) has always been one of my favorite moments in church history, and I can’t help but think that celebrating such an act as incredibly relevant to today’s social, political, and even religious environment. While we don’t have clergymen in the streets selling the remission of sins in order to fund a new basilica, the reality is that we do have insidious ideologies floating around, ready to deceive the majority of Christians whose discernment muscle is honestly pretty atrophied. The coming election has made that fact more obvious to me, anyway, and in the age of moral relativism we need our Luthers—our discerning men and women who are willing to walk in the Spirit and stand for truth.

At my school, Reformation Day is a school-wide festival and, as I’ve described it to friends who are confused as to why I’m wearing a velvet bodice to work, it’s basically the Christian Ren Faire.

Kids are sorted in houses (at first I thought it was very HP, but it turns out that this is normal with Classical Schools) and compete in games for house points. Foxtail, dodgeball, and some soccer-related game are Reformation Day mainstays, but my favorite part is the costume parade.

Last year’s costume contest had me wondering if I had wandered into an episode of Parks and Rec. Since the school is small, the morning assembly allows time for every child to take the stage and announce their costume, which can come from any of the following categories: Royalty (King/Queen/prince/princess, but not Disney); townsperson/peasant; animal; inanimate object (kid you not, last year one kid was a sword); Bible character; and person from church history.

Last year there were mostly knights and princesses, but a good number of Bible characters and church martyrs were thrown into the mix, too. One second grade Paul mounted the stage with dignity as he held his scroll and tried to keep his little beard from falling off while a dragon, aka a kid in one of those inflatable T-Rex suits stumbled up the steps, his taped-on cardboard wings flapping in the ascent. There were at least three Moseses (all under the age of ten), one St. Teresa of Avila, and one very detailed St. Sebastian, who was famously tied to a tree and shot through with arrows. Not only did this high school boy have bloody arrows sticking out of his shirt, but he also tied a huge tree branch to his back, giving the full appearance of the early Christian martyr.

My favorite of all, however, was a tiny second grade girl with a tent peg and mallet in hand. I nearly fell out of my seat when she took the mic and announced deadpan in the tiniest voice, “I’m Jael.”

This year’s Reformation day was obviously different thanks to COVID, and we ate Costco pizza instead of the usual Oktoberfest-esque feast of sausages. Still, there was lots of laughter, friendly house-against-house competition, a refresher in church history, and plenty of pie. The change in pace was so refreshing, especially for the younger students whose daily routines are scheduled down to the second to allow for minimal contact with students outside their class. Seeing my high school kids pummel their opponents in dodgeball was almost as great as watching one kindergarten knight wander onto the dodgeball court unawares, pull out his sword and shield, and hunker down against the enemy (not the opposing team, but every ball that came his way), fighting with bravery and conviction until the end of the round.

All in all, it was a good reminder that sometimes, the kind of reform we need is found in fewer rules and some room to run around. I liken it to the paradox of sanctification—that process of falling backwards into the arms of Christ as he unmakes the old us and fashions us into something new. We really do get that process wrong when we try to white-knuckle our way into holiness and forget that it’s God who softens hearts and sets us free from our old ways. Jesus explained this to his bickering, power-happy disciples when he said, “Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it” (Mark 10:13-16). In His upside down Kingdom, it’s the humble that are put first, and the Lord of the Universe is laid in a manger. One of my favorite verses, Psalm 8:2 explains how it’s the praises of babies that can win a war:

“Through the praise of children and infants you have established a stronghold against your enemies, to silence the foe and the avenger.”

If Jesus expects me to be like a child, then I want to be that five year old knight who wanders into a legitimately dangerous arena and fights, sword in hand, with all joy and conviction and no fear.

“Ms. Wilson, I’ve read the little instagram devotionals you do. They’re really good. But you do use A LOT of commas.”

Ah, yes. After months of online school, I had nearly forgotten the average teenager’s unique ability to give a compliment that encourages and kinda stings at the same time.

I like to spend at least half of my lunches hanging out with students. Thanks to my stature and the pesky zit that seems to have taken up permanent residence on my forehead, when hemmed in by the usual small group of high schoolers, the unknowing stranger might lump me right in with them. Not every lunchtime involves a discussion about (or critique of) my punctuation tendencies, of course. Some days we sit in a group and pass around my coworker’s 40 year old guitar and a packet of worship music and sing together. Some days we chat about everything from Edward Cullen (how do they even know who that is??) to last night’s presidential debate, to ranking local thrift stores by how wealthy its donors are. Being a teenager in 2020 is a trip and the last thing they need is another adult who thinks they ‘get’ them but doesn’t. I’m at that age where I can quote their memes but I don’t have a Tiktok, so I’m not quite cool, but I’m accepted.

When I was in middle and high school, none of my teachers were particularly young. The closest thing we got to young was “cool” and those frisbee playing enigmas always struck me as inaccessible. I’d like for my students to at least know that I’ve been through what they’re going through now. And while this is also my first pandemic, I have felt out of place, too awkward, too shy. Part of me wishes they knew that I sometimes feel these things in front of the classroom.

Anyway, I’m teaching English now!

Of course, with any new role comes new opportunities for embarrassment–and my best one had to be the first day back to in-person learning. I had picked a favorite thrifted find of mine to wear for the first day/picture day: a navy chiffon INC dress that I intentionally wear backwards so the little pearlescent buttons face the front.

Well, the dress wasn’t a bad pick for a shoulders-up photo, but it was ultimately a mistake. I didn’t notice when I was getting ready, but a few of the bottom buttons must have peaced-out on my drive to work, because it wasn’t until parents started arriving with students that I realized that my outfit had gone from conservative to club-worthy. With the buttons from the bottom gone, the split, which blew wide open when I walked, came about three inches above my knee. Yikes.

With less than one class period to make my dress a little more Kate Middleton and a little less Miley Cyrus, I grabbed an extra jump ring from my keys and pulled the bobby pin out of my hair. I had to put a small hole through the fabric, but better that than greet parents and put a permanent hole in my reputation. The rigging looked a little ridiculous while sitting down so I just… didn’t sit at all. In fact, I felt myself trying to cover it up the entire day–with my lunchbox; with a folder full of syllabi; with a stack of books that I dropped and then awkwardly had to scramble to pick up while still trying to keep covered. It was a first day to remember for sure!

I’m lucky to have since avoided any more wardrobe malfunctions, but I have felt myself running for cover, embarrassed at my own inexperience. I’ve never taught English before. I’ve never actually taught the same subject or even had the same group of students two years in a row for the three years I’ve been in the classroom–and there’s a certain beauty to that. I learned different things getting 7th graders to memorize the Fruit of the Spirit than I did doing science experiments in the hallway and getting a Bible degree on the side. In a way things have beautifully come full circle. The high school class which got me interested in English and Bible in the first place was Classical Literature, and now I get teach it 5th period every day.

Now that it’s October, we’re deep in the trenches with Senior Thesis projects and Augustinian confession write-ups, but if there’s one thing I want my current students to learn, it’s that they’re not finished products. That God is still working on them and in them–because He’s clearly still working on me. When I see my need for His grace, I have more grace for them, even on days when I’m sure that particular reservoir has run dry. Their teacher is impossibly human, and sometimes she has to Wikipedia who Catiline is when Augustine mentions him or gives the wrong root for ‘predicate’ and remembers it halfway through class because oops, she took Spanish and not Latin in high school. But she’s trying. Oh is she trying.

It brings me so much joy when a 9th grade boy comes to me at lunch telling me he’s been making a model of Hector’s helmet at home because he’s enjoying the Iliad that much. But it brings me even more joy when I see the kid who has consistently counted himself out as a non-writer actually give himself grace and try again.

I’m sure that’s just God giving me a glimpse of how He feels watching me. 😊

Philippians 1:6 “And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.”

Also, here’s the song that’s been running through my head for the duration of my writing this. What a great throwback!