Sunday School Thoughts

I know that I shouldn't have favorite Sunday School teachers. Logically, I know that. But nevertheless: I do. I have favorite Sunday School teachers. Well, favorite Sunday School teacher--singular. It's not the others are bad people. It's not that the others are faithless or stupid or boring. (Well, okay. Maybe sometimes the others are boring, but I sincerely doubt they're trying to be, and I'm readily willing to admit that sometimes I don't have the best attitude about sitting through their lessons.)

Anyway, I've been trying to peg lately why I like this particular Sunday School teacher. The easy answer, of course, is to say that he's cute (true) and that he's intelligent (also true) and that he has a definable and well-asserted teaching presence (true to the truest degree). But today as I sat through his latest lesson, I realized that what impresses me most is this: he knows how to ask questions.

That might seem like a weird attribute to observe in a person, but it's nevertheless true. As a teacher, he's unwilling to settle for an easy question that I can almost hear the class collectively rolling their eyes at. (Ever notice that once you get old enough the questions that hardly ever get answered are the ones we already know the clear-cut responses for?) His discussion questions do that magical thing--actually inciting a discussion--and I suppose it would be fair to say that his asking the right questions is tied to a knack for encouraging participation. (Although whether it's the question or the teacher encouraging the participation is, in my opinion, a bit of a chicken-and-egg scenario...)

One random note from the tail end of the lesson today--we ended up glossing briefly over the story of the woman at the well, mostly because our discussion had revolved around other equally good things. And perhaps I'm particularly dense, but this teacher pointed out something I'd never noticed before--the woman at the well did an excellent job of bringing people back to the well to listen. But then whether people accepted the message or not was determined by those people. Not by her.

She led them to the well, but she didn't remotely attempt to force them to drink the water (as it were). They had to drink of their own accord. This seemed to me an interesting lesson in missionary work--we, too, can direct people to the well--but we can't make them drink any more than she could. If I take this thinking to its extreme...which I do, because I'm me...I ultimately reach the conclusion that if we force someone too hard into the well water, they drown.

(I know. It's kind of a violent thought...but it nevertheless seemed pertinent.)