Practicing a Singular Life

One of my students at Fontbonne recently asked why I left the practice of law to become a teacher. When I have attempted to offer an answer to this question in the past, I usually end-up giving way more information than what the person who asked the question had anticipated, I'm sure.

Since the student who asked me was himself looking forward to going to law school and becoming a lawyer, I did not want my answer to convey that the profession of law was in any way unworthy of his pursuit.  To pursue it, though, we must be responding to a call.

Whether it is a call to law or a call to teach, we must, in order to respond, seek to understand how we have been individually designed and equipped to serve others.  When I initially pursued the practice of law, I was attempting to serve others, but somewhere along the way I began to live a duplicitous life.

The Scriptures teach us that "a double-minded man is unstable in all his ways."   Rather than seeking to serve others, I became more and more consumed by the ways of the world. (1 John 2:16).  Had I continued on that path, it would, for me, have been a road to desolation.

I was graciously enabled to depart from that road in order to seek to practice a singular life.  Now, I am, by God's grace, seeking to become what I have been designed and equipped to do for others.  That pursuit leads me to attempt to teach others what I have studied and am learning of the law and life.

Student by Day -- Teacher by Night

Now that the fall quarter at Concordia and the fall semester at Fontbonne have gotten into full swing, I find my weekly schedule working itself into a somewhat manageable pattern.  My days are devoted, for the most part, to study.  I spend about three hours each day at various libraries (Covenant Sem's, Concordia's or a nearby public library -- though not at the library of Trinity College in Dublin) in reading for my studies at Concordia and in preparation for my teaching at Fontbonne.

Currently, I am also working through Miroslav Volf's The End of Memory and will be writing a brief paper on his ideas about the purpose of remembering wrongs suffered toward the ends of forgiveness and reconciliation. I've been invited to participate in a panel discussion during Fontbonne's upcoming conference on the topic of collective memory.  The focus of the panel will be memory and religious imagination.

In addition to my reading, I also try to study German for at least one hour each day.  I'm working through translation exercises. My goal is to be sufficiently competent to pass the Theological German qualifying exam by the end of the fall quarter (mid-November).  I also meet each Thursday afternoon for one hour with my German tutor, Mark Schreiber, who is also a PhD student at Concordia.  Mark taught German for eight years and in just our first session has already provided me with outstanding guidance.

I'm auditing one class at Concordia this term -- Prof. Schmitt's Classics of the Devotional Life.  We're reading Augustine's Confessions this week, and will be doing a survey of spiritual autobiographies including John Bunyan's and even Thomas Merton's Seven Story Mountain.  Quite a survey!  I'm thankful that I auditing the class.  It is very enriching, but it would be a heavy load if I had to write the papers for this course as well as prepare for my German exam this quarter.

So that takes up most of my day time.  Now to the evenings. At this point in the semester, I'm teaching each Wednesday and Thursday evening.  I meet with my students in the Honors Seminar each Wednesday evening. We're studying the topic of civil disobedience -- its history, theory and practice.  We are examining the ideas that underlie the use of non-violent resistance as well as its uses especially in the 20th century.

One of the key questions I'm asking my students in this seminar to contemplate is whether non-violence can be practiced out of a purely pragmatic motivation or whether there must be some principled foundation to sustain those who would engage a resistance struggle non-violently.  In the first three sessions of the seminar, I'm already hearing some very keen insights from my students.  I'm looking forward to an enlightening semester together with them.

On Thursday evenings, I teach a class on the legal and ethical issues presented in the area of corporate communications. It is essentially a specialized business law and business ethics course focused upon the various lines of communications within the corporate context: management and employees; company and customers; competitors to competitors, to name a few.

The make-up of my two classes, though, is different.  The Thursday class is composed of 19 adult learners all of whom have full-time jobs during the day.  They are interested in the practical applications of the topics of our study.  They also bring a wealth of life and job-related experiences with them.  Out of these experiences flow both real-life insights and some very probing questions.

The Wednesday evening seminar is a small group of nine young, full-time college students who have qualified for the University's Honors Program.  They bring a wealth of knowledge that they have gained from their prior studies.  Each class presents me with a challenge -- a challenge to engage minds in thinking through the ideas that are presented by the subjects we are studying together.

I'm seeking to lead them to ask the next question, to probe deeper, to examine their own thinking and to consider carefully what their thinking may be leading them to do.  So in both my studies by day, and my teaching by night, I'm seeking to follow the pattern -- from study into practice and then, to teaching.

Attempts at Practice

In my studies recently, I read in Renate Wind's book, Dietrich Bonhoeffer: A Spoke in the Wheel, her description of Bonhoeffer as a student. It impressed me as setting forth a pattern worthy of following.

"[H]e . . . linked the theology which he was developing to the discovery of his own identity and his personal questions about existence.  It would later be called 'theology in the doing.' What the theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer thought was a way of coming to terms with a life-style. Connected with this is the fact that he probably never said anything that he did not also attempt to put into practice" (37, emphasis added).

That is the pattern.  When our eyes are opened to truth about the life we are called and commanded to live in Christ, we are to act in faith and obedience.  Our acting, though, cannot be in our own human energy or effort but in full and complete dependence upon the life of Christ within us.  In this way, we "attempt" to put into practice the truth that we are being taught.  What we study thus shapes our practice.

Stages of Formation

Human experience progresses through stages.  This simple truth has been recognized from ancient times.  Some observant travelers have described the stages in ways that help to guide and encourage others who are seeking to make a little progress along life's path.

During my year of teaching in Korea, I came to appreciate the influence of Confucianism on the formation of the Korean mind.  Some scholars of Christianity have even suggested that many of the teachings of Confucius provided fertile soil for the acceptance of the Gospel by the Koreans.

Confucius' account of his own progress along the journey of learning is one that provides helpful guidance to others who are also pursuing the path.  His students recorded his self-described stages of formation in The Analects, (Book 2.4), as follows:

"At fifteen I set my heart upon learning.  At thirty, I had planted my feet firm upon the ground.  At forty, I no longer suffered from perplexities.  At fifty, I knew what were the biddings of Heaven.  At sixty, I heard them with docile ear.  At seventy, I could follow the dictates of my own heart; for what I desired no longer overstepped the boundaries of right." 

It is encouraging to know that Confucius did not considered himself able to "follow the dictates" of his own heart until after fifty-five years of study and the cultivation of a "docile ear" to hear "the biddings of Heaven." Throughout all the years of study and the various stages of formation, he embodied in his practice the truths he came to understand. 

It is also worth noting that though at fifty, Confucius "knew" the biddings of Heaven, it took another ten years for his hearing of them with a submitted ear to form.  In my studies, may I not be seeking only the expansion of knowledge, but also an increasing sensitivity of my attentiveness, my mindfulness, and ultimately the submissiveness of my will to the will of God in Christ.

Bonhoeffer and the Academic Pursuit

A life of study can be very tempting.  Especially so, if study becomes an end in itself.  To guard against the lure of such a life, it is vital to follow the way that others have walked -- through study into practice for the purpose of transferring what we have learned to others.  This is the path of study*practice*teach.  One of the foremost students, practitioners and teachers in this way was Dietrich Bonhoeffer.  In his short work on the Bonhoeffer's life and teaching, Mark Devine noted with particular insight the attitude Bonhoeffer took toward his studies:

"In 1929, having plunged himself exclusively into academic work, Bonhoeffer's love for ministry and fellowship with ordinary Christians reasserted itself along with his commitment to rigorous scholarly endeavor:  "Soon I shall be going to Barcelona for a fortnight's visit to my [former] congregation, of which I am very fond, and I feel in general that academic work will not hold me for long.  On the other hand, I think it very important to have as thorough an academic grounding as possible."  This statement fairly exposes the function of the two inner passions of Bonhoeffer's life, namely that, for him at least, academic work must serve hands-on ministry." (Bonhoeffer Speaks Today, p.119).

No endeavor of study is of value unless it leads first to a transformed life and then to the transference of truth to others.

Convocation -- A Call to Study

This morning I attended the opening service for the 172nd academic year at Concordia Seminary in St. Louis.  It was for me the beginning of my 51st year of study as a life-long learner.  Granted, I can not give you a first-hand accounting of my "learning" during those earliest of years, but according to my mother it included most of the basics of human experience: walking, talking and even feeding myself.  I can, though, attest to the challenge that issued this morning -- it was a renewed call to be a follower, a learner, and a doer of the Word of God.

I have been called back to finish what I started.  Several years ago, I had started a new course of study at Concordia, but at the same time, I've also been teaching -- part-time at Fontbonne, and then this past year, I took a leave of absence from my studies to pursue a visiting professorship at Handong University in Korea. 

While I had wonderful students and colleagues at Handong and fruitful times of teaching there, I sensed a persistent call to return to my studies here and devote myself more diligently to embodying the truths I'm learning.  In short, to follow the pattern set by Ezra -- to study, practice and then to teach. Even before attending this morning's convocation at Concordia, I read in my devotional time from 2 Corinthians 8.  I heard again His Word to me today: "it is best for you now to complete what . . .  you began not only to do but to desire" (RSV).

So, I have undertaken to finish, by God's grace, what I started.  While study will be my first priority in these coming days, I am, though, continuing to teach part-time at Fontbonne and a Bible class at my home church, West Hills.  What I'm purposing, though, is only to teach what I have first studied and sought to put into practice.  In these posts, I'll reflect on those endeavors as I seek to progress along the Tao of life-long learning by wholly following after him who is Way.