Continuing from my previous post . . .

My whole approach to education as a student all the way through graduate school (and, if I’m honest, the first few years of my teaching career) was to collect (disperse) knowledge so that I (my students) could “coerce the world into meeting my (their) needs.”

As it turned out, I lacked a deep understanding of what my needs really were, “to known as I am known.”  This uncharitable pursuit of knowledge eventually led to the death of my spirit.  Mercifully, God saw fit to redeem me from that pit, but I would prefer that my students not require that type of epistemological journey to land them back on the path of flourishing that God intends for them.

But this brings up the question of how much of my students’ path toward flourishing is really up to me (and I ask the same thing for my own two children).  In my feeble attempts to teach them how to love and to know lovingly, I often tend to rely too much on my own efforts and influence.  In other words, I’m just trying to control another outcome.

It is at this point that my faith in God’s providence for my students must provide a hope that surpasses what I can muster by my own efforts.

And, ultimately, it is at this point that I need to stop “conveying knowledge” and start loving.

“Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up.  Anyone who claims to know something does not yet have the necessary knowledge; but anyone who loves God is known by him.”
– 1 Corinthians 8: 1b-3