God In Schools

Facebook seems lit up with this subject right now.  When things like the school shooting come up, it is because we don't let God in the schools.  I grow weary.

As I remember, prayer in school was short and not very inspirational.  It didn't stop my teacher from hinting at the fact that Bobby and I were probably going to hell because we weren't Lutheran.  (That was a fun day.)

I often wonder whose religion they would like us to use in school:  Catholic?  Lutheran?  Mormon?  Baptist?  Jewish?

As far as I know, all of those religions contribute to prayer and God in our schools today.  My colleague keeps a Bible on her desk.  She's Methodist.  Right now, I have a book of Mormon on my desk. (I'm keeping it for a student, and no, I'm not Mormon.)   Our secretary (Catholic) has been known to light a candle in times that call for desperate prayers. Two colleagues pray every day at lunch. (One is Mormon, and the other is from a Bible centered church that is unaffiliated.)

I've seen coaches lead players in prayer, kids lead prayer before shows, and religious music performed at school concerts.  I've prayed in front of a gymnasium full of students and parents with the principal's permission and blessing.  (I was asked by an athlete whose father had been killed in a terrible accident.) We have a Fellowship of Christian Athletes that has turned into a group called Fellowship of Christian Anybodies.

God isn't absent in our schools.  We don't preach our religion or our faith from the classroom lectern.  But that doesn't mean that God is absent.  I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who prays in school.

Granted, we don't lead organized prayer.  If you think the organized 30 second prayer of my 1960's classroom converted nonbelievers or set the tone of our entire society, I fear you are mistaken.

All of the kids in my elementary classroom went to church weekly.  God was in our homes, and our parents lived their faith and passed it on to us by example.

If God isn't in the homes, a 30 second prayer in school will change nothing. 

God isn't absent from our schools.  God is absent from homes.  Requiring an organized prayer every morning isn't going to put God back into homes, and it isn't going to solve the problems of our schools, our society, or world. It is unrealistic to think otherwise.

"Invictus"

Invictus
By William Ernest Henley

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishment the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

This is a memorization assignment in my class.  No one memorizes these days.  Kids don't know phone numbers.  (They are programmed into cell phones.)  Some don't even know their multiplication tables.  They certainly don't do the memorization that our parents and grandparents did in the old one room country schools.  Back then they memorized scriptures or a poem every week. (And Dad could still recite them well into my teen years. Heck, he probably still can.)

Do the students fight me on memorizing? Almost every step of the way.  Do I let them off?  Absolutely not.  I prompt.  I give second, third, and fourth chances.  And every student memorizes the poem.

So why do I make them memorize a poem that many critics consider a "B list" poem?  I don't care what the critics say.  There are a couple of lines that I hope resonate with them forever.

The title means unconquerable or invincible.  We aren't.  (The author knew this first hand.)  Cancer, strokes, accidents, or even tornadoes remind us how fragile we really are. 

Students of Tiny Town get what it means to be bludgeoned by chance.  After all, what were the odds of a tornado hitting our town, wiping out every school, and most of our churches in one fell swoop?  If you had seen Tiny Town the morning after, you would have seen a town "bludgeoned" almost to death.

These past few years, I've had to do less explaining of what it means to be in the clutches of circumstance. All the students had to do was look around at our Trailer High.  "Circumstance" had us firmly by the collar.

So what are the lines I hope they remember?  "And yet the menace of the years finds, and shall find me, unafraid."  For the rest of their lives, that will be the difference between success and failure: facing life's problems with courage.

"I am the master of my fate:  I am the captain of my soul."  It isn't what happens to us.  It's how we deal with the things that happen to us. 

Obstacles will arise.  Tragedies are going to occur.  We can't control all of the things that happen to us.  The only thing we can control is how we face the problems we encounter. The only thing we can control is our own attitude.

And that is how we "Master our fates."  We aren't invincible.  But... we can be courageous. I hope they remember that.

The Great Debate

I have always loved saying "Happy Holidays."  It has a nice alliteration.  It sounds so cheerful. It means Merry Christmas and Happy New Year and for my Jewish friends, Happy Hanukkah.   

And now there seems to be a campaign to make me feel guilty if I say Happy Holidays.  A guy tried to convince the Mr. that you could be arrested on the East Coast if you said "Merry Christmas."   (I've yet to see the police paperwork on that one.)  Facebook status updates, email forwards, and blogs seem to reprimand those who say Happy Holidays.

I go to a church that believes we are all God's people.  "Open Hearts.  Open Doors."   I celebrate the birth of Christ, and I say Happy Holidays.  One doesn't negate the other.  I'm still welcome at my church. "Happy Holidays" doesn't keep me from lighting the Christ Child's candle or ringing the sanctuary with light on Christmas Eve.  I'm pretty sure that God still considers me one of his own.

I don't want to feel guilty for saying Happy Holidays.  I haven't taken Christ out of Christmas. I just really want you to enjoy your holidays--however you celebrate them.  I want to wish you happiness and joy and love.

This season is a celebration of love.  I think we could use a little more love this year.  (Oh, and a light snow would be nice, too!)

So...Happy Holidays!