One Lasallian's thoughts

From today’s gospel: “After all the people had been baptized and Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, heaven was opened and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, ‘You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased.'"

The heavens are opened, and Jesus, the beloved Son, becomes the bridge reuniting God and humanity. But being beloved, as we know, carried a cost for Jesus: he shared God’s love in such an unconditional way that completing our reunion with God would result in his complete self-sacrifice. Perhaps, on this day that we close the season of Christmas, we need to remind ourselves that the love of the Incarnation is not simple or easy, but one that remains with us in the difficulties of our lives.

From today’s first reading: “I, the LORD, have called you for the victory of justice, I have grasped you by the hand; I formed you, and set you as a covenant of the people, a light for the nations, to open the eyes of the blind, to bring out prisoners from confinement, and from the dungeon, those who live in darkness."

This is the very point that the prophet Isaiah makes about the messiah. God’s love walks with us, enlightening us, freeing us, and removing us from darkness. And as “ambassadors and ministers of Jesus Christ" (De La Salle), we are called to share this as we walk with our students.

“The signs of the times alert [Lasallians] once more to the importance of their mission in today’s world. . . ." (Adapted from The Brother of the Christian Schools in the World Today: A Declaration, 1967)

Recent events have been a little out of the ordinary, but reading the signs of the times at San Miguel demands that we, too, renew our focus on the Lasallian mission. No matter who the principal, president, or CIP director is, our students are here, we have been turning applicants away at the door, and more are coming. The neighboring school districts are not getting better; high school graduation rates and college persistence rates for students like ours in the public schools are not improving. We have been engaged in studying and planning, and have learned much. There will be 251 students in the building tomorrow morning, and another 88 off to work. They need their eyes opened, to be freed from the confinement of what they don’t know. Who else will be their companions in seeking enlightenment? Who else will guide them? Who else will be their bridge to reconciliation with God, no matter how hard their lives, and ours, might be?

Provident God, as a Lasallian family, we cherish as a sacred gift our Lasallian stories. As a pilgrim people, we trust in the Providence upon which De La Salle relied, and so far has never failed us.

May your Holy Spirit guide us in wisdom, that we might be receptive to the same holy audacity that guided the Magi to see the Savior in a simple, unassuming baby. We open our hearts to this same Spirit, summoning the same courage that led De La Salle to return to his community and simply ask “What do you want of me?" Guide us in this time of transition to continue our legacy as a vibrant community that provides a human and a Christian education for the young, especially the poor.

United in our love for each other and our students, hold us close in comfort as we perceive that, in new ways, you provide the means for all to come to knowledge of the truth and to be saved. We ask all of this through the intercession of our founder, Saint John Baptist de La Salle, and our patron, San Miguel Febres Cordero.

Live, Jesus, in our hearts!

(The structure of the prayer, and a little of the wording, is borrowed, with thanks, from Saint Mary-of-the-Woods College Campus Ministry)

During this month, the Church and San Miguel celebrate National Migration Awareness Week, the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, Alumni Day, sophomore and junior class retreats, sophomore and junior college visits, the San Francisco New Orleans District young men’s vocation retreat, a variety of basketball and soccer games, and, on the 31st, the beginning of Catholic Schools Week and the first El Otro Lado of the semester. And perhaps some teaching!

But all of these, including teaching, boil down to how we share God’s love with our students. As the General Council’s Lasallian Reflection 1 (shared yesterday) reminds us, “For over 330 years of this God-is-with-us-story, we have shared St. La Salle’s love for the young, especially the poor. Our century, like the 17th and 18th, also suffers from indifference to those abandoned at the side of the road. Our challenge is to offer a radical welcome, the oil of mercy, compassion, and inclusion." In all of the events of our school year, not just in January, we seek ways to welcome and include those who are economically disadvantaged, those who suffer from the various poverties that afflict our students, show and teach mercy, and ensure that our students will learn to do the same.

To help us in this endeavor, we recall De La Salle’s Epiphany admonition to “[r]ecognize Jesus in the poor rags of the children whom you have to instruct. Adore him in them . . . these children are the members of Jesus Christ." Knowing that Christ abides in our students enables us, in all the opportunities that the calendar provides, to share our love for them in a way that will encourage them to share Christ’s love with others.

Live, Jesus, in our hearts!

From Sunday’s first reading: “Up, Jerusalem! stand upon the heights; look to the east and see your children gathered from the east and the west at the word of the Holy One, rejoicing that they are remembered by God."

San Miguel has 419 graduates. Sometimes, when there are a lot of alumni around, or during graduation season, I imagine them a little bit like Baruch describes them in the first reading: all gathered into the gym or back basketball court, celebrating or reliving their time at San Miguel, and, hopefully, thankful for us.

From Sunday’s second reading: “I pray always with joy in my every prayer for all of you, because of your partnership for the gospel from the first day until now. I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work in you will continue to complete it until the day of Christ Jesus."

But I am also grateful that I was privileged to teach so many of them, or even any of them. They are remembered in the alumni corner of our chapel, where they are entrusted to the prayers of San Miguel Febres Cordero, as well as by so many of us because of how they touched our hearts in their devotion to God and our community, just as we touched their hearts and minds through teaching. I am confident that they will share this mutual love throughout their lives.

But we cannot stop with the alumni. We have students on board, and more coming. I cannot imagine that John the Baptist’s mission was easy, just as ours is not. There are always those who are difficult to reach, will not do work, or have life difficulties that present obstacles to learning. Often times, it can seem as if we are the sole voice crying out in a vast desert. Yet that is our calling: “[John the Baptist] said, therefore, that he was only a voice crying out in the desert . . . The same is true of those who instruct others. They are only the voice of the One who disposes hearts to accept Jesus Christ and his holy teaching. . . Pray God to impress all these truths so firmly in you that you will have no occasion to be or to consider that you are anything . . . but the ministers of God and the dispensers of his mysteries." (De La Salle, Med. 3.1, 3.2)

No matter the difficulties, let us so pray this week, especially as we work with those who need us most, those who need us so that they know that they are “remembered by God."

Live, Jesus, in our hearts!

From today’s first reading: “The days are coming, says the LORD, when I will fulfill the promise I made to the house of Israel and Judah."

From today’s second reading: “May the Lord make you increase and abound in love for one another and for all, just as we have for you, so as to strengthen your hearts, to be blameless in holiness before our God and Father at the coming of our Lord Jesus with all his holy ones."

There are many things that we may think of right now when we hear “[t]he days are coming": end of the semester, final exams, grades due, Christmas break, Christmas celebrations, family gatherings, the start of a new semester. Yet today’s readings, and the Advent season itself, call us to be more present in the moment during this season of preparation. The promise of the Lord is the coming of Jesus, who is love incarnate. So Paul reminds us to be models, to “increase and abound in love for one another and for all. . . to be blameless in holiness . . . at the coming of our Lord Jesus. . . ." A daily obligation, implies De La Salle, as “we will have to give an account not only of the idle words we have spoken, as Jesus Christ says in the Gospel, but even of the good works we have performed . . . ." (De La Salle, Meditation for the First Sunday of Advent)

Our preparation for coming of Christmas is important, for “[t]he days are coming." But let us pray that our own preparation turns us each day to love, a love that is Christ, a love that we share in order to prepare our students, that they too will turn to Jesus in their own lives.

Live, Jesus, in our hearts!

Today’s first reading:

Many of our families and students come here, and, I believe, give it their all. They are giving what they have, and they are willing to give even a little more for the benefit of their daughter’s education, or to spend the time needed to understand a math concept, find the meaning behind a lab, or prepare for a Heritage Festival.

But what is their jar of flour or jug of oil? What is it that they are hoping will not run dry? It must be the human and the Christian education that we provide. We tell them regularly that education will allow them to live out their lives in a way that provides for themselves, their families, and the world that they will serve. So when it happens that we tire of repeating instructions, telling students to be quiet, or correcting papers, we are reminded that we “must also enter into [Christ’s] purposes and goals. He came on earth, as he said, only that people might have life and have it to the full. . . What have you . . . that has not been given to you?" (De La Salle, Med. 196.3) What we have been given, we must share with our students so that they, too, will fully live.

Live, Jesus, in our hearts!

From today’s gospel: “And people were bringing children to him that he might touch them, but the disciples rebuked them. When Jesus saw this he became indignant and said to them, ‘Let the children come to me; do not prevent them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Amen, I say to you, whoever does not accept the kingdom of God like a child will not enter it.’ Then he embraced them and blessed them, placing his hands on them."

“There is something in children, some combination of helplessness, dependence, innocence, trust, vulnerability, simplicity, playfulness, and simple physical beauty that opens the heart to selflessness in a way that our other loves do not. . . In our love for our children we are given a privileged avenue to feel as God feels—to burst in unselfishness, in fire, in joy, in delight, and in the desire to let another’s life be more real and important than my own." (Rev. Ron Rolheiser, OMI)

A group of students (at another Lasallian school) once came to me with “issues" with a particular teacher. After reminding them that they needed to talk with that teacher, not me, this popped out, unplanned: “You’ve seen how [teacher name] looks at her own little kids, the ones you like playing with. Haven’t you seen that she looks at you the same way? Don’t you see that she loves you like you were her own children? Now go think about that and stop bothering me!" I was reminded of this exchange by one of the now-grown students recently, who shared that it started to make teachers “real" for her, and started her on a path that made education more “real" as well. I guess that sometimes the Spirit even moves us in our outbursts!

But I wonder if this isn’t what De La Salle meant when he wrote that we are to have both the “firmness of a father" and the “tenderness of a mother" (Med. 101.3) with regard to our students. Aren’t we meant to overflow with parental love when we see them, just as God overflows with a parental love that causes all of creation? Isn’t our love that which attracts them to learn from us, allowing us to shape their knowledge and direct it in ways which will allow the Kingdom of God to continue to overflow with love? May our prayer this week allow us to see our students, our children, with eyes of love.

Live, Jesus, in our hearts!

From this Sunday’s gospel: “And [Jesus] asked them, ‘But who do you say that I am?’ Peter said to him in reply, ‘You are the Christ.’ Then he warned them not to tell anyone about him. He began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer greatly and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and rise after three days. He spoke this openly. Then Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. At this he turned around and, looking at his disciples, rebuked Peter and said, ‘Get behind me, Satan. You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.’ He summoned the crowd with his disciples and said to them, ‘Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and that of the gospel will save it.'"

“Whatever kingdom Peter’s mind conjured, it probably did not involve denying himself and taking up his cross to follow Jesus or losing his life for the Gospel. What kind of kingdom is that? Feel for Peter for a moment. What kind of ridiculous kingdom is built on the broken body of a defeated Messiah?" (John Martens, “The Things of God", America, August 31-September 7, 2015)

These questions took deep root for me this week in the context of grades. What kind of school exists without grades? Look at all the infrastructure that schools, teachers, parents, and students have built around getting and improving grades. Like death and taxes, they seem unavoidable, and to students, sometimes all-consuming.

But we have constant reminders that there is something to schools that is just as “ridiculous" as what Peter had thought about Jesus’ teaching:

• “It is necessary to keep coming back to that fact: the pastoral plan of the Founder is all embracing. It is the whole person who is to be converted to Jesus Christ." (Pungier, John Baptist de La Salle: The Message of His Catechism)

• “Almost by instinct the living tradition of the Institute has integrated faith in Jesus Christ into the daily lives of the students." (The Brother of the Christian Schools in the World Today: A Declaration)

• “[The Catholic school] is not simply an institution which offers academic instruction of high quality, but, even more important, is an effective vehicle of total Christian formation . . . a center for evangelization. . . ." (National Directory for Catechesis)

I doubt that we can divorce grades from school, because there has to be a way to determine and communicate student progress. The Kingdom of God is not well served by mediocrity. But Jesus, the Church, and the Founder focus our priorities on the things of God: seeing strength from weakness, living for others before ourselves, building life from death. As we are called to build the Kingdom of God, may this be the faith that we strive to bring to our classroom, forming disciples through the truth and beauty of what happens here daily, and animating our community. Perhaps we will find that grades will take care of themselves from there.

Live, Jesus, in our hearts!

From today’s gospel: “Jesus then said to the Twelve, ‘Do you also want to leave?’ Simon Peter answered him, ‘Master, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and are convinced that you are the Holy One of God.'"

De La Salle: “[Your students] must be convinced that your instructions are the truth of Jesus Christ, who speaks with your mouth, that it is only in his name that you teach, and that he has given you authority over them. They must also be convinced that they are a letter that Jesus Christ dictates to you, which you write each day in their heart. . . ." (Med. 195.2)

I often find myself wondering about how we teach. I believe (hoping that I am right) that being a reflective teacher, open to adjusting for the benefit of better learning, is what we should be doing. But I know that there are days that I feel like this description from Terry Heick’s “What Vonnegut Might Say About Your Teaching" on teachthought.com today:

“[T]eachers ladle ideas from content areas into long wooden troughs so that students might feed from them. . . [S]tudents learn to seek the points and the letters and badges instead of questions and critical literacy and wisdom because there no points or badges for them . . . Students become trained to ‘get good at school’ . . . [T]hose big, beautiful minds pressing against the windows of the classrooms, dying to know something about the world on the other side."

I’m not at all sure that any grading system, teaching method, or instructional strategy is the silver bullet that we must seek. More and more, I am convinced that De La Salle’s point, reflecting what Peter said to Jesus, is essential for anything we do in a school. Have we built relationships with our students that enable them to trust us, to believe that we will do the right thing by them and honor their contributions? Have we convinced them that we speak with the heart of Jesus, that what we have to share is of true and lasting value? Have we shown them truly the good, the true, and the beautiful, so that in our daily classroom work, we may together question, seek, and find wisdom in all that God has created and revealed?

Live, Jesus, in our hearts!

From today’s gospel: “Jesus said to them . . . ‘Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you do not have life within you. . . Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me and I in him.'"

“For how long has Jesus been presenting himself to you and knocking at the door of your heart to make his dwelling within you, and you have not wanted to receive him? Why? Because he only presents himself under the form of a poor man, a slave, a man of sorrows." (De La Salle, Med. 85.1)

“The Christ, who nourishes us under the consecrated species of bread and wine, is the same One who comes to us in the everyday happenings; He is in the poor person who holds out his hand, in the suffering one who begs for help, in the brother or sister who asks for our availability and awaits our welcome. He is in the child who knows nothing about Jesus or salvation, who does not have faith. He is in every human being, even the smallest and the defenceless. The Eucharist . . . is the school of charity and solidarity." (Pope Francis, Angelus on the Feast of Corpus Christi, June 7, 2015)

If Jesus is within us, then our sharing in communion with Christ compels us to live in and share more fully that community with all. And as De La Salle and Pope Francis suggest, the fullness of that charity and community is found in the marginalized of every nature. While we serve those who live on the margins of our local society in many ways, what of those in our school community who are marginalized within it? What of those who are ostracized socially for some reason? Those who are ignored in class because they have trouble reading, or are thought of as “not smart" (or sometimes, because they are “smart")? What of our students who eat alone or walk to class alone? May Jesus, who forever lives in our hearts, compel us to seek out and more fully nourish those who are hiding in the margins of our community.

From today’s first reading: “Elijah went a day’s journey into the desert, until he came to a broom tree and sat beneath it. He prayed for death saying: ‘This is enough, O LORD! Take my life, for I am no better than my fathers.’ He lay down and fell asleep under the broom tree, but then an angel touched him and ordered him to get up and eat. Elijah looked and there at his head was a hearth cake and a jug of water. After he ate and drank, he lay down again, but the angel of the LORD came back a second time, touched him, and ordered, ‘Get up and eat, else the journey will be too long for you!’ He got up, ate, and drank; then strengthened by that food, he walked forty days and forty nights to the mountain of God, Horeb."

From today’s gospel: “Jesus answered and said to them, . . . ‘I am the bread of life.'"

“Are you thus so closely united to Jesus Christ when you receive him that nothing is able to separate you from him?" (De La Salle, Med. 49.2)

Despite all that Elijah had done in God’s service, he was ready to give up. But the Lord did not give up on him, and provided him the sustenance needed for the journey to the mountain of God, a journey which was described by using, in the words of Old Testament scholar Bernhard Anderson, “[a]n expression meaning ‘a long time'" (Anderson, Understanding the Old Testament 4th ed., 88). Our mission is no less long, certainly far longer than forty days and nights. What sustains us during the heat of the day, the whine of those not wanting homework, the chill of grading on January evenings, the roar of undirected student energy, or even weariness from the joy of seeing our students doing well or eager to show us their athletic skills? Jesus reminds us that it is he who feeds us and sustains us with his very being. As De La Salle asks, are we close enough to Jesus that he will sustain us in all that we do? Are we so connected to Christ that our students will see him in us and be fed as well?