Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Beaten for My Faults

"But when you do good and suffer, if you take it patiently, this is commendable before God. 21 For to this you were called, because Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an example, that you should follow His steps..." --I Peter 2:20-21

I was sitting at my desk in the Teacher's room resting up for my next segment of classes on Monday, December 20, when Teacher Grace approached me with her lesson plan for January.

"Teacher Jenny-fur," she said in her Korean-accented English. "Here is the new monthly plan [for TR8] and could you give them this?" She handed me a revised plan for this month, three copies of a unit test I was to give my students that Thursday--a test I had only that moment found out about--and the new plan.

I sat there stunned, staring at the altered schedule for this month. It was such a little thing, having them test on Thursday instead of waiting another two weeks or more. Could I not alter the lesson plan for the week, one I hadn't yet had chance to think about anyway?


Absently I glanced at the new plan: "The Printer," it read. But we had already finished the story--I was sure of it. "We've already finished 'The Printer'," I said defensively, as if I had taken a blow to my face.


"I looked at Steve's PBO [workbook] and he hasn't finished the pages," Grace offered softly, almost hurt by my complaint.


“We might not have had a chance to finish the workbook pages, but I know we finished the story.” I grabbed the Treasure book assigned for the class, flipping to the selection in question, and kept going. "We've already done here and here," I said as I tilted the book to show her the author's biography and page of review questions. Clearly, then, they shouldn't have needed to reread it.


I began noticing other things in the lesson plan that I found too unbearable to deal with, among them the fact that she hadn't put down which page numbers to cover--as if I cared so much about page numbers! Normally, the fact would have been a relief, as I would have felt more freedom to teach to mastery rather than to coverage. But this day, it was more fuel for the flame.


Scrutinizing her plan like an ajuma staring at a waegukin, I saw that she had scheduled one theme (roughly one-quarter of a unit) for every two weeks. As there are several other books the students must work through, reading selections from the theme would then be relegated to every Monday and Wednesday; if one included a day for testing, that cut one Wednesday out of every two.


I began flipping furiously through each unit, appalled at the length of one in particular. "You're asking me to do cover thirty pages in three days?" I told her in sheer disbelief.


"There is one theme for every two weeks. You have to give them a test on the theme. We've already talked about it," she countered authoritatively.


Indeed we had. A couple of weeks ago, on the heels of a class of students failing their unit test, my idea was to have them tested more than just once a month. The tests we had been giving them were essentially benchmarks, designed to judge mastery of a set of thinking skills that we as a hagwon may or may not cover in a single month. Since the curriculum also included weekly quizzes on each theme, geared more toward assessing comprehension of the story rather than mastered skills, my suggestion was to use the quizzes to prepare for the benchmarks. So why was it that I suddenly disagreed with that thought so bitterly?


Slowly the realization swept over me that I had been put in my place. “I’ll figure it out, Grace,” I cowed meekly as I turned back to my desk.

First Peter says that Jesus was beaten and despised when He went to the Cross, yet He “did not revile in return” (2:23). “[W]hen He suffered,” Peter continues, “He did not threaten, but committed Himself to [God] who judges righteously.” The writer exhorts earlier in the chapter that that’s our model of meekness, of righteous character.

As a tangible way to express that idea, Peter wonders about his readers: “For what credit is it to you if, when you are beaten for your faults, you take it patiently?” Wait a minute—beaten?! This is the twenty-first century—if anyone so much as a lays a hand on someone in a manner perceived even remotely malignant, one could sue for losses or be hauled off the plane. And yet, what does Scripture say?

I wasn’t beaten that day; the only thing that happened was that I was asked to do something that I didn’t want to do. And I couldn’t even take that patiently—couldn’t even live up to the standard that’s not even a credit to my godliness. I wasn’t bruised or threatened in any way and yet I was there, fists up, ready to retaliate in self-defense.

I’m reminded of the Scripture in Isaiah as I write this: “ ‘For My thoughts are not your thoughts. Nor are your ways My ways,’ says the LORD” (55:8). No matter how hard I try, I cannot attain to those thoughts, those “ways.” I cannot attain the godliness I seek—it’s impossible! And yet, Romans promises that Jesus came to Earth and took our place “that He might be the firstborn among many brethren,” (8:29). I can’t ever attain to His likeness, and yet Jesus desires to be among us.

Ever more I’m convicted that the more He desires to be with us, the more He really desires for us to be like Him. He came to so season His Church with His obedient submission that we taste like Him if circumstances squeeze our juices out. Sadly, Monday was a day that, when squeezed, I tasted more like myself.

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