A Greater Task

James 3: 1, 2    Titus 2: 7, 8

 

 

          There’s an old country ballad written by Ed Bruce and made famous by Waylon Jennings and Willie Nelson. It’s entitled “Mamas don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys.” It’s not a bad comment on cowboys. It just acknowledges their itch to be out on the open range. But it does remind us that cowboys are made of different stuff, that being a cowboy is not for everybody.

          James, the writer of the book by the same name and the half-brother of Jesus, had the same idea about teachers, but for different reasons. Writing to the Jewish Christians outside Jerusalem, James says that being a teacher is not for everybody either. He says that not many of us should become teachers. Shades of Willie Nelson.

          Let’s stop here and look at this You Tube clip. It’s about pastors, but it could just as easily be about teachers. As you watch it, think about the teachers in your life, the public school teachers and the volunteer teachers right here in this church, that never know when to quit or what time it is.

     (youtube.com: mamas don’t let your sons grow up to be pastors)

          It’s funny, but it’s true, too. And pastors are teachers. They’re just a specialized form of teacher. Jesus was a teacher. Remember that when Jesus was directly addressed in the New Testament, two of every three times he was called Teacher.

          So James says that not many of us should become teachers, because it’s tough and---because it carries a different standard of care. James tells us that teachers will be judged with greater strictness than the rest of us. Why is that? Because teachers have special influence. Because teachers have special responsibilities. To whom much is given, much will be expected. What are those responsibilities that are so special? According to Paul in 2 Timothy (2:15), they rightly divide the word of truth. Teachers “should not be quarrelsome but kind to everyone, able to teach, patiently enduring evil, correcting…with gentleness.”  William Barclay puts it this way:

“It was the teacher’s awe-inspiring responsibility that he could put the stamp of his [or her] own faith and knowledge on those who were entering the Church for the first time.” Barclay was talking about teachers in the early church, but I ask you, what has changed? If anything, that responsibility has only grown over the centuries.

         The apostle Paul had plenty to say about teaching. Many of his thoughts are contained in the Pastoral Epistles; the two letters to Timothy and one to Titus, both men his protégés. In the second chapter of Titus [2: 7, 8], Paul urges them to be models of good works, and in their teaching to “show integrity, dignity, and sound speech that cannot be condemned, so that an opponent may be put to shame, having nothing evil to say about us.” Paul gives Titus a tall order. In addition to dignity and integrity and sound speech, he must first be a model of good works. Paul is saying to Titus that which we can all appreciate. In order to be an effective teacher, in order for his or her students to hear the message, it must first arrive in the way the teacher lives life. Teaching occurs first, and maybe foremost, not by what we say, but by who we are.

          What do our Christian teachers really do? Of course, they point out scripture. Of course they teach Bible stories. Of course they pray with their students. They do all these things and more. But what they do most of all is not talking about Christ to their students; it is showing Christ to them.

          It’s my great joy to recognize all the teachers we have here, teaching every age from toddlers to seniors. They are to be commended, congratulated, applauded and supported. But this is a cautionary tale as well as a congratulation. The job is immense, the rewards are usually not visible for some time, and it is a greater task than should not be undertaken without the constant help and guidance of the Holy Spirit. To do it haphazardly is to suffer judgment from God.

          Why would anyone teach, considering the time it takes, the potential liability for failure? Why? Perhaps it is because we love. We love what has been done for us and we want to pass it on. The greatest teacher of all once went up on a mountain and sat down. His disciples followed him and Matthew tells us that he opened his mouth and taught them. That teaching is called the Beatitudes, and one of the things he said was this:

 

               You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill

               cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put

               it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to

               all in the house. In the same way, let your light so shine

               before others, so that they may see your good works

               and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.

 

          May it be God’s will for this gathering that each and every one of us, no matter what our position or station, shines our light, giving the glory of God to all who see that light. In that way, we can also teach. Let that be our greater task.