Philosophy class

Spring semester brings a new delight into my life: teaching Philosophy to ready-to-graduate high school seniors. I teach them 20th Century History in the fall, in which I greatly enjoy imparting to them my love for the past. But there's something about pushing these kids out of their comfort zone to think about their life from another angle and preparing them for the college world that really exhilarates me. 

We're about ready to finish up Unit I, a short intro to the subject of Philosophy. Now, I have to follow a boring government outline, but aside from that, I can do whatever I want. I try to draw out their natural hunger for meaning, which is especially keen as a blossoming young 17 year old. Asking the question, "What is life all about anyway?" is natural for them (or at least should be) at this stage or perhaps a little bit later in life. So I take advantage of this life-questioning and try to make them think for themselves about understanding reality in and around them. 

But as a teacher, I want to always submit myself to the probing question that Paul asks in Romans 2:21 - You then who teach others, do you not teach yourself?. That is, am I practicing the same kind of self-examination and brain-stretching that I ask from my students? Or am I contenting myself to an unreflective, tossed-by-the-wind-and-waves kind of life?

It's easier to reflect this way here, in a foreign country, where I see all the exposed cracks of Mexican culture and liberally point out its failures, starting with ranchero music and ending with its corrupt police system. I see how much better off I am as an educated, spiritualized, organized gringo. I see the values of my reflective and informed life, and I shake my head at this backwards society that knows no such thing and is governed by its sensual, materialistic passions. 

And then Paul hits me again: If I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.

This keeps me running to Christ. I love reflectivity, pondering the mysteries of life, but if I haven't any love, these mysteries are empty. Even if I do understand this culture, my own, or even grasp a full understanding on truth itself, it does me no good unless I love and am loved. I'll arrive at the end of all things and stand before Eternity Himself with empty hands and a forfeited soul.