the real and the VERY real

rrgh.

That frustrated little grumble pretty much sums up my day. I started Tuesday, February 5th slightly irked at my inability to accomplish very much this weekend, even though it was a long weekend (Mexico celebrates their Constitution Day in early February, and we had the day off school yesterday).

I walked in the school office this morning, greeted a few teachers, and quickly set to work trying to plan out my day, as well as finish my weekly plans, which were due on Friday. After getting the minimum amount accomplished, I grabbed a portable stereo (for the listening portion of my classes) from a cabinet, and headed out the door toward my 8:20 4th grade class.

I walked halfway there before realizing that the little electronic adaptor at the end of the stereo’s plug was missing. I therefore retraced my steps all the way to the office, found the adaptor, reconnected it, and walked to the 4th grade classroom, now slightly late to class.

When my little 4th graders were finishing up their workbook assignment, the clock approached, then passed 9:10, the starting time for my next class, and the homeroom teacher still hadn’t arrived back from her break. I can’t leave the class until she gets back, so I was stuck waiting until 9:18, until she finally returned.

I booked it to my 9th grade class, got things somewhat organized, and began teaching. After finishing two/thirds of my class plan, I realized that I had ran out of time to do all that I wanted to, so I let them go to recess and I walked upstairs to meet my 10th graders, whose class actually went pretty well.

Recess allowed me to chomp down some granola and yogurt, get myself configured for my 11:30 12th grade Philosophy class, which I was pretty excited about. I recently re-watched The Matrix, and was inspired to use the film as an illustration of our knowledge of reality. I was pumped about using this cool medium to convey philosophical concepts to my students. As we began viewing the movie clips in class, one of the other teachers knocked on the classroom door and announced that some university representatives were wanting to use my class to give a presentation about their university to these high school seniors. With a polite smile on my face but a “You’ve got to be kidding me” thought in my heart, I consented. I shut down the movie and left the reps to do their thing.

12:20 brought my other 4th grade class to bear on my nerves. They’re beautiful little children, but I’m still trying to teach them the value of speaking one at a time. I came back to the office, tired and feeling defeated in not being able to control my students.

One of my good friends here invited me, David, and a few other folks to his house to eat. It was one of the girls’ birthdays, and the whole group was really enjoying the time together, joking around and acting ridiculous, as good friends do when there’s no inhibitions on being themselves. But my attitude was far from merry. I was tired and didn’t feel like talking or joking around – my sense of humor had long since gone. I enjoyed being with them, though. The lighthearted atmosphere gave lift to my spirit. However, I have two extra English classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so I had to leave the dinner early.

And here I am, sitting on my living room couch, having returned from my two extra classes, which I’m not convinced are doing a whole lot of good to help these kids learn English.

You’re probably wondering, “Why the heck did he just write all about his semi-depressing, ho-hum, I’m-not-making-a-difference day?” Good question.

Ever since I read the book of Ecclesiastes in one sitting a few days ago, I’ve been thinking about the meaning of life. Ol’ Solomon seems to think that our whole life is one big cycle, void of meaning, and that the only good thing for us to do is to work hard and enjoy whatever gifts God gives us. The Gospel of John has been bringing a little balance to these melancholic thoughts, but simultaneously adding more confusion by persistently bending my wandering sight toward a Rabbi from Nazareth who made lame men walk, turned water into wine, and told people that they only way to eternal life is by eating his flesh and drinking his blood.

These two pieces of Scripture are being connected in my heart and mind by the grace of the Almighty through the idea of worship, strangely enough. In Piper’s Desiring God, I’ve been reading that worship is an act of the “religious affections” (Piper quotes Jonathan Edwards in this), which are awoken through the vision of the reality of God, revealed in Jesus Christ. Apart from this, worship is a meaningless ritual – a cycle void of purpose and life. Worship is the true emotion of treasuring Jesus Christ as an end in himself.

It might be easy for me to see through the eyes of Solomon today: well, it's one more day in the cycle of good, bad, good, bad. It's all a cycle under the sun, right? But something within me longs for a different answer: something past the sun, something greater than its light. A Light beyond the sun.

Yeah, my day was a blah sort of day. We all have those. Yet I want the reality and light of God, as revealed through Jesus Christ, to stir up in me a true affection for him in worship, regardless of the circumstances. He is the greatest good – there is nothing beyond him.

Let us sink deeper into his reality and lose sight of our own, which passes through this time and space at the lightning speed of insignificance.