Electric Faith in an English Classroom

"Peace, reassurance, pleasure, are the goals I seek, 

I cannot crawl one inch outside my proper skin;

I talk of love – a scholar's parrot may talk greek – 

But, self-imprisoned, always end where I begin."

- C.S. Lewis facing himself, addressing his own depravity

WARNING:  This entry is heavily spiritual because I was asked to write a story of how I came to faith.  Entries are normally fairly secular.  

ACTUAL PHOTO OF OUR ENGLISH CLASS, DOING OUR "LIVE WITH FLAIR" SIGN.

 DR. H IS WOMAN IN BLUE ON RIGHT.  I AM IN CENTER DRESSED IN BLACK

– Maybe she’s on drugs. 

– Maybe she had a near-death experience?

– Maybe she’s just figured it out.  Maybe she knows how to live.  

It takes a lot to stall a socially-eager college sophomore from checking his or her cellular device immediately after class ends.  One day, however, our usual post-lecture routines – pencils down, coats on, check phone messages – are mystically interrupted by our reactions to another brilliant lecture taught by the famous, oh-so-ebullient Dr. Heather Holleman.

Dr. H remains at the front of the room (if setting or place could choose a mate, this particular setting would desire Heather Holleman most ardently) chatting with students about their papers while the rest of us slowly exit the classroom, digesting the day’s lesson and wondering whether we could get our hands on whatever Dr. H must eat for breakfast every day (in hopes that we could harness even 1/10th the amount of energy that she does).  

We left English class almost every day asking ourselves the same questions posed above, because we all worshipped Dr. H.  Here’s part of why Dr. H dazzled and delighted our class each day:

Professor Holleman encouraged our writing class to arrange the desks in a circle in order to facilitate discussion, embrace one another as equals, and eliminate the standard authority-centered classroom structure common to most educational programs (the almighty teacher at the front of the room, all desks facing her Highness and bolted to the floor).  She glorified each individual for their unique gifts and interest.  She began every lesson with a name-game in order to build community within her classroom.  Students were encouraged to think freely, to participate in discussions, and, most importantly, to celebrate who they are. 

Not knowing God can be a funny thing.  Probably because when I didn’t believe – when I couldn’t get myself to believe – I still felt so many deep, disturbing emotions.  Like guilt. And shame.  These are fascinating feelings when you think about it, and sometimes I wonder how they could exist independently of a relationship with God. And I always felt a hunger for spirituality – a sort of pull I couldn’t reasonably ignore.  God patiently chased me for so many years, but I only ever wanted to believe.  

Though it’s hard to describe, God had a presence in that English classroom.  Later I found out that Dr. H had blessed each seat before class, but it was more than her thoughtful prayers that jostled my fellow students and I as we entered the room each day.  There was a constant energy – a radiating glow – filling every square centimeter of that small, dinky little room in Willard.  We connected with one another, we loved each other, and we learned.  God’s loving palm gently caressed her students during class as it bridged the space between Dr. H’s sunny countenance and our blessed seats.    

As the semester concluded, we all were glum to part.  The rarity of developing such close relationships between classmates and teacher in a university classroom is very unfortunate, but we acknowledged this sad reality as we cherished our last few classes together.  

Though getting to know Jesus and accepting Him as my savior was a gradual, lengthy process, I believe God used Dr. H to light the fire I needed to begin walking in my faith.  I discovered, by developing an intimate relationship with Dr. H shortly after class had finished, that there really was no mystery behind her compassionate teaching and sunny demeanor: the secret was her relationship with God.  To be honest, I thought that if becoming a Christian meant nothing more than living like Dr. H did – living with joy and heart, and with Christian compassion, then that would be enough to convert me. I soon found out that it meant so much more, however.   

This thing with me and God is good now.  We got off to a rocky start, because I treated Jesus like a Sodoku puzzle.  Believing in God, I thought at first, felt a little bit like believing in an imaginary friend, and my family still sees it that way.  I wanted reason and logic to back me up; I had a Cartesian desire to prove Jesus was my savior with absolute certainty.   But once I abandoned my pride, once I acknowledged that I really need something so much bigger than this world to depend on, and once I stopped trying to solve the puzzle of God, I was free to believe. This is not to say that I chose Christianity against my reason, and it is not to suggest that I did so irrationally; on the contrary, I found that it would be irrational to defy Christianity after discovering so much evidence for it throughout my research.  I would even argue that someone would need to exercise more faith in order to be an atheist than a Christian.  

So God and I have really bonded lately.  And what do I find?  Joy.  I find joy in the mundane, in the exhaustion, in the excitement of every day life.  I am able to love others unconditionally in Christ’s name and to build community through Christ.  I’ve really been working to deaden myself and become alive in Christ – because I feel that many of our world’s problems are a result of self-absorption.  I still have my doubts, but I want to believe fully, and I still find myself not wanting to obey God in certain ways – so I just pray. I pray because I want to want these things.  And God answers – he really does. 

Leading by example, celebrating others, and shining a light into seemingly mundane situations can bring others to God.  Evangelism doesn’t have to mean walking up to strangers and sharing your spiritual beliefs with them (not that this is wrong).  It can mean allowing God’s grace to overwhelm you so that you become someone whom others admire or wish to emulate.  Passion and energy are absolutely contagious.  If someone bubbles with joy, or appears overwhelmingly passionate about something, others want a taste of it too.  

If God was able to work in our little classroom on the third floor of the Willard building, God can “work” in any professional setting.

Maybe she has figured it out.  Maybe she knows how to live because the Holy Spirit dances within her.  It sparks from within like electricity, lighting all encroaching darkness.  Maybe she’ll help others figure it out too.  If God has anymore say in it, she surely will.  

Oh, and Dr. H is definitely not on drugs.