If I’m honest I ask myself this question more times than I like to admit. Sometimes it’s an admission that I’ve walked back to my desk to get something and now I can’t remember what I was looking for. At other times it’s a deeper cry from an anxious heart, worrying that what I’ve dedicated my life, energy and passion into isn’t really working. When I’m knee deep in marking or explaining why correct school uniform is still something worth striving for, sometimes I feel very middle-aged and stodgy, far from my moments as a young person singing “I wanna be, a history maker in this land…”

Working with teenagers and faith formation is a little like playing one of those old-school games where you have to get the tiny plastic ball to drop perfectly through a series of holes at just the right angle to allow for victory. There’s a lot of going around in circles, trying to get the exact moment and ideal conditions to make progress.

Trust is a huge ingredient. Sometimes trust is earned by choosing your tone of voice when you must ask someone not to run in the corridor, or by listening to a long story about why young Johnny was unable to do his homework on the weekend. Trust is also earned when you ask a question instead of telling them what to think. Sometimes trust is built over years as a young person watches how you deal with others who are struggling or pushing boundaries or running their mouth. Three years later they do the mental arithmetic and decide this teacher is the right teacher with whom to share their vulnerable question or crushing doubts.

Another ingredient is admitting you don’t always have it together - that you feel powerless or lost, confused or overwhelmed. That a particular question you have about God keeps you awake at night and may not be answered until you’re face to face in heaven one day, or that you need God desperately because you’re not a very nice person without Jesus’ help. I don’t want my students to be impressed with me. I want my students to be impressed with what Jesus can do through someone like me.

Christian Education at Donvale is an ongoing dance, learning who has grown up around the faith but perhaps never really understood the most important elements at its core. Or working out that quiet Katie has internalized 300 sermons and 400 devotions to the extent that she feels a crushing weight to be responsible, serious, servant-hearted, committed and grateful, all at once. Half the class need to really come face to face with their desperate need of a Saviour, while the other half need to be told that Jesus came to set them free, with a burden that is easy and a yoke that is light.

And all the while, we teachers are just a more mature bunch of young Johnnys who haven’t done our homework, or quiet Katies who are staggering under the weight of adult responsibilities and concerns.

At the end of the day (or the pre-dawn start of the day), we all need to be in Christian Education – sitting in Jesus’ classroom to hear His voice say what each of us needs to hear.

To the dad who feels overwhelmed by the immense responsibility of raising children in this complex world, or the mum who has heard too many sermons that didn’t speak to the heart of her struggle and burden – we all need to acknowledge our need for the Saviour King who can help us today, to know what on earth we are doing here.

Now and Then

'Act justly, love kindness, and walk humbly with God'

Issue 11 · 18 Dec 2024

In this issue