Serving as a teacher in a church with an abundance of graduate and post-graduate students can be tough. Alright, it can be downright depressing. With the bulk of one’s audience comprised of carefully studied, well-thought, broadly-read theologians, one who dares consider himself a teacher among such an assembly can often succumb to nagging feelings of intimidation and fear. If you are like me, you might often find yourself wondering what you might say this Sunday that many of your listeners haven’t already heard…or read…or thought extensively about.
Often, the feeling of fear is not so much tied to the anxiety that I might say something wrong, but that I might say something familiar. Honestly, I am thankful when a brother or sister challenges or corrects something I teach. I may not always appear thankful right away, but more often than not I find such confrontations to be moments of true growth and change.
Not so with the charge of familiarity. If I could only respond in such a way when I am told my teaching was bland or boring or repetitive or predictable. I find the fear of this potential accusation to be more crippling than the fear of any other indictment. Anxiety hovers over my study like a cloud, ready to rain upon my notes and blot out any insights that could possibly be met with the dreaded, “I’ve already heard this 100 times.”
But then there’s Peter. Read more
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