Growing Pains

"Aslan," said Lucy, "you're bigger."
"That is because you are older, little one," answered he.
"Not because you are?"
"I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger."

--from Prince Caspian by C.S. Lewis

I was thinking about this a lot last night at Bible study. We were studying the relationship between sin and grace. We started with a diagram that looked something like this:

On one hand, I have my awareness of God's holiness. On the other, I have my knowledge of my own sin. (These both tend to increase with time.) When one first becomes a Christian, the Cross tends to just barely bridge the gap. How could our understanding of God's grace exceed our knowledge of the gap between? For Christians like me, who converted at a very young age, the cross tends to start out very small. Unfortunately, sometimes it stays that way.

As time passes, the cross can seem to diminish in size. Sin not only fails to disappear after conversion - it growls and snarls and grows more rapidly than a hydra. God is not only as inaccessibly perfect as we had known at first - he is more so. And yet the cross too often fails to bridge the gap. So what do we do?

We fill the gaps artificially. We try to do good deeds - or have regular Bible studies - or pray - or something - to cover that extra gap between the top of the cross and God's holiness. We become increasingly dishonest - either with ourselves ("I'm not that bad") or with others. Oh, how very good I am at that last. I don't and wouldn't lie, of course. I just sit there uncomfortably silent when people ask for prayer requests when I desperately want prayer for x embarrassing spiritual problem in my life. (Note that I can't bring myself to specify a specific example even as I discuss the problem.) I just quietly despair as I compare my own lack of faith with my neighbors' faith. I can grow resentful of others' success and peace of mind; I can become peevishly convinced that everyone is a bunch of similar hypocrites anyway (or something like the world through the devil's mirror). It gets ugly.

You might notice how I flit around between "I do this", "one does this", and "we do this" in this post. It's because I'm still working through which applies where. Hey, let my confusion be reflected in stylistic confusion. One thing I wonder - is the fact that my first thought is of Aslan a sign that "Aslan" hasn't grown big enough for me? Have I failed to get to know him sufficiently in my own world? How can I get to where the cross is sized appropriately?

One thing's for sure: John 3:30. "He must increase, but I must decrease."

After a bad day...

He appeared to be a singularly ill-used man. His parents had never appreciated him and none of the five schools at which he had been educated seemed to have made any provision for a talent and temperament such as his. To make matters worse he had been exactly the sort of boy in whose case the examination system works out with the maximum unfairness and absurdity. It was not until he reached the university that he began to recognize that all these injustices did not come by chance but were the inevitable results of ...

-C.S. Lewis, The Great Divorce

I cut the quote where it stopped being remotely relevant to me (digressing into political issues), but the remainder might be summarized as "two further pages of displacing all responsibility."

Feeling this today. I am exactly the sort of girls in whose case the examination system works out with the maximum unfairness and absurdity - in my favor. It is all the fault of the system that my childhood and adolescence taught me that hard work and responsibility are legendary things which, in my own case, are entirely useless for anything but spoiling fun. It is the fault of the system that I now lack the discipline and willpower to do everything needed in my life.

It's the fault of the system entirely.

In other news, taught my students about irony today. Hope this is recognizable as verbal irony.

I'm a teacher! I teach! - The First Hurdle

Today was a very important day. Today, for the first time, I faced down a class of high school students and taught them a lesson. I am officially a teacher!

(That is, until I'm flushed with triumph about teaching with my first official lesson plan in my methods course next semester. Or until I'm student teaching next spring. Or until I get my license. Or until I have my own classroom. Or until I've finished my first year. Or until that magic day when the class REALLY gets it. I reserve the right to name any and all future days The Official Start Of My Teacherness.)

How did I manage? Heroically, considering my deep dislike of presentations. I took presenting an old Scottish ballad to a bunch of apathetic, academically indifferent teenagers, looked it squarely in the eye, and... got myself good and drunk first, my old coping mechanism for nerve-wracking assignments.

Those who do not know me will have entirely the wrong impression now; those who do will be utterly confused. I do not use alcohol or any other foreign chemicals to get plastered. I simply distract myself working or surfing the Net or reading till the not-so-wee hours of the morning, and fatigue poisons do the rest. I used to think it was just procrastination; now I wonder if it's a half-deliberate attempt to hit an altered state of consciousness where I no longer feel nervous or frustrated, only euphoric or depressed.

Anyway, I chose my poem well. I managed to get the kids discussing the nature of fairies, and I managed to stop them at the point when they were looking at me funny by explaining that I wanted to discuss the magical kind. And they stuck with that! The first two verses, I let 'em struggle with the original poem. Then I asked them what they thought it meant, when the last stanza warns "'And nae maid comes to Carterhaugh /And a maid returns again.'" They seemed to agree with the girl who decided it must mean no maid ever comes back alive. All attention was riveted on me when I explained that the second time, "maid" was being used in the sense of "virgin". :-D It's sad how predictably it works, actually - load on the sex, and the kids are completely involved. After that point I gave them my quick translation so they could follow without getting utterly lost.

I lost their attention during the lengthy passage on how to free Tam - in retrospect, I should have emphasized more the odd situation of the man being the damsel in distress. Overall, I felt like I did an adequate job, but I could have done better. I also felt like I was getting off easy. This class was taught by an extremely experienced, competent, and deft teacher whose students were polite and well-behaved for this stranger while their teacher was watching. The teacher had also gotten their sympathy for me by comparing my student teaching to their senior exit presentations. The teacher also covered what would have been a woeful lack if I had been going solo - I completely neglected to review, highlight important points, take questions, etc. The teacher covered for me so naturally that I doubt the students noticed. I'm just glad it wasn't a formal lesson assignment. The review is the part where you actually hammer the lesson home; otherwise, odds are it'll be forgotten by nightfall. The teacher also improvised an excellent assignment: allow the students to write their own ballad. I would have spent more time collectively plotting before splitting the students into groups to work on different sections, but then, I would have planned this in advance or I wouldn't have been able to think of it at all. The teacher was improvising brilliantly with the time I left over.

I'm not being too hard on myself; I did well for what it was, and it's okay that I still have things to learn to pay attention to. (Dangling prepositions will be permitted in my class, thank you very much.) Still, it did get me thinking. I did a fraction of what a teacher needs to do, and I got the following review from a teacher who knows enough to know the lack:

"Ms. [gosh, it's weird to be called by my last name] taught a lesson on ballads (emphasis on "Tam Lin") on April 18. She had a class of 17 English IV Standard students in the palm of her hand. When she completed her lesson, the class decided she should be their teacher until the end of the year. :)"

Is it blasphemous that I spent the latter half of the period thinking about how God covers for us? We're allowed to stand or fall for the part we're ready to play, but for the rest, He covers so deftly that we look like we did something we can't. Here, a teacher made it look like I can teach a class. (Actually, God was probably involved too. Three hours of sleep following a sleep-deprived week, then no caffeine... but then, adrenaline does something too.) Another time, I might hold my temper with that complete and utter idiot, or I might offer good emotional support, or some sudden insight... but the minute I think I'm really doing well, that it's my contribution that's making the most difference, I'm kidding myself.

Still lots to learn and grow into!

Shamelessly literary ramblings

A HYMN TO GOD THE FATHER.
by John Donne

I.
WILT Thou forgive that sin where I begun,
Which was my sin, though it were done before?
Wilt Thou forgive that sin, through which I run,
And do run still, though still I do deplore?
When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done,
For I have more.

II.
Wilt Thou forgive that sin which I have won
Others to sin, and made my sin their door?
Wilt Thou forgive that sin which I did shun
A year or two, but wallowed in a score?
When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done,
For I have more.

III.
I have a sin of fear, that when I have spun
My last thread, I shall perish on the shore ;
But swear by Thyself, that at my death Thy Son
Shall shine as he shines now, and heretofore ;
And having done that, Thou hast done ;
I have no more.

I have a deep and abiding love for John Donne which will probably crop up repeatedly if I keep writing here. An intellectual trying to grasp incomprehensible truths, a pious man with a positive fascination with sex, a believer who often felt no faith whatsoever - the contradictions are delightfully puzzling and familiar. After four years of study and seven years of love, I forget how incomprehensible his language can be for modern readers.

Be glad I'm not posting an analysis of Satire #3 or Sonnet 14: "Batter My Heart, Three-Personed God;" that I as yet but seek to study this one song of Donne's.

Anyway, this poem can be paraphrased thus: "God, will you forgive me for being a sinful human? Will you forgive me for sinning perpetually? Will you forgive me for getting others to sin? Will you forgive me for falling into that sin I thought I never would fall into? Hey, there's more I can list! Will you forgive my doubts, too? If you'll swear that it's all good, we're good."

But I love the refrain, because it's part of Donne's perpetual punning. Ordinarily I loathe punning with the fire of a thousand suns, but Donne's so dang good at it. "When thou hast done, thou hast not Donne, for I have more."

It's speculated, however, that there's another pun in that poem. See, his beloved wife's maiden name was More. "When thou hast done, thou hast not Donne; for I have More." The last line of the poem is usually rendered "I fear no more", but I prefer this obscure alternate version - "I have no more" - because I suspect it's what was on Donne's mind. His wife died a few years before this poem was written, and it broke his heart and almost killed him. "And having done that, thou hast Donne; I have no More."

Long, vaguely comprehensible rambling? Yes. But it comes down to this: this poem is, for me, a potent reminder of all the things I cling to before God. "I have More." This is the same guy who shamelessly wrote "For God's sake hold your tongue, and let me love..." and is famous for his mingling of the sacred and the sexual. It must have been very, very hard for him to remember God with his wife, and harder still to face Him having lost his wife. How many good things do I put before God? Shamelessly? Nakedly? Will he forgive the sin through which I run, and do run still, which I ought to deplore? And when will I learn to deplore it? (Donne was also the Dean of St. Paul's Cathedral; I suppose he was probably quicker on the deploring front than I.)

A fancy way of saying I've been prioritizing terribly lately. I've got to get on that tomorrow.

Screwtape Writes Again

C.S. Lewis discovered a valuable trove of correspondence between Screwtape, a rather important infernal bureaucrat, and Wormwood, his nephew, a junior tempter. These Screwtape Letters provide useful insight into the inner workings of Hell.

I believe I may have found a fragment of another letter of Screwtape's, though to a different tempter. (Wormwood had but one patient, a male, before he failed and was fed to his superiors.) I record it below.

... You complain that your patient is self-aware and dedicated to thwarting her own faults. You complain that this makes it impossible for you to introduce subtle sins of sloth, self-indulgence, etc. You complain, in short, that this self-awareness and dedication render your job impossible.

My only reply is to wonder yet again what Slubgob is teaching you young fiends. How can you fail to notice the delightful possibilities inherent in her trying to thwart her faults? All you need do is bring her faults to her attention, and she will try to thwart. Humans are always worse than they think they are; I am sure that you will be able to surprise her with enough genuine faults (and even flagrant sins) that she will spend the greater part of her day trying to thwart. Her self-awareness simply means that she will do half the work for you. Soon she will become so engrossed with thwarting that you will be free to introduce imaginary sins and failings to the burden as you please. The result is a veritable banquet of misery, self-hatred and doubt.

Now this is a delicate point. You must never allow her to pause and ask herself, "But didn't Christ say that He came not for the righteous, but the sinners? Is not His sacrifice great enough for even my sin?" Our side have lost many to the Enemy in such circumstances, and those who have got past this obstacle can become deadly weapons in His hands. But I think the danger negligible. Any activity which focuses the patient away from the Enemy is to be desired. And if it is disguised in a noble package such as self-examination, so much the better.

It may surprise you to learn that this is one activity where revealing your influence can be helpful. The knowledge that she is (or has been) vulnerable to you may drive your patient into a still-deeper frenzy of negative soul searching. Never allow her to see the difference the Enemy has had in her life in the same time period. If she does ask that very obvious question, ask in return whether she has made as much progress as she ought. Then focus her not on her progress, but on the distance remaining (which, as I have said, is always greater than these humans suppose). Try convincing her that the sin is too great to be forgiven - a nice dash of pride and hubris which increases despair nicely. If all else fails, make her aware of how much time has been spent wrestling with such silly things as self-doubt and despair, and convince her that she must fix herself before anyone discovers how wretched she has permitted herself to be. Then of course you may trot out her failings again for her review, and begin the cycle again.

The great joke, of course, is that humans are always at least as wretched as your patient believes herself to be. The Enemy had taken this into consideration when He made His atrocious offer of amnesty, just as He considered how His people would fail after accepting Him. (Remember Peter's denial?) And yet He still promises that He, "who began a good work" in each of His people, "will be faithful to complete it". This is all part of His mysterious plan, which He calls "unconditional Love". Our top fiends are even now working to unmask this fiction, but until the facts of the matter are revealed, we must content ourselves with the Enemy's term. At any rate, this is the reason why contact with the Enemy is so dangerous. It might begin all sorts of pursuits of His "Love", which are never desirable.

Posted for the benefit of two friends - one literal, one proverbial. I hope it's coherent enough.