Entry #19

This series was originally published on my socials in 2021. My beliefs and opinions have changed in some ways since then, but these words are still meaningful and relevant to who I am and what I believe today.

One of my husband’s favorite stories to tell is of his very first job interview.

He had been a business major who decided to make a career change to teach and coach after a couple of soul-sucking years of selling insurance.

He quickly enrolled in an alternative teaching certification program and found a friend with a connection to a coaching position at a 6A school in DFW who wanted to bring him down to check out the school.

After walking through the athletic facilities and watching workouts, his friend said, “Let’s head over to meet the principal.”

Precious Clark walked in fully prepared to shoot the bull and talk ball, but instead was ushered into a seat across the desk and grilled for thirty minutes on educational best practices as a history teacher.

Clark didn’t know half of the words coming out of his mouth, much less the answers.

A few minutes into the interview (he didn’t know he was going to have), the principal said: “Pretend you are going to do a unit on the Punic Wars. Walk me through an entire class of you teaching a lesson.”

Well, first off, Clark wondered, what the heck are the Punic Wars?

Not to be deterred and in a valiant attempt to stall, he slowly responded, “Well…. first …. I would take roll.”

Let that answer sink in.

But he pressed on. He wracked his brain and tried to be as vague as possible in his response, as not to give away the fact that he knew nothing, and continued, “Next, I would talk about who fought on either side during the Punic Wars.” Something he didn’t currently know.

“Then, I would talk about why the war was fought.” No clue.

“And then, I would wrap it up by talking about who won.”

The principal, stone-faced, responded, “So, you would lecture the entire class?”

“Yes,” he answered, feigning confidence.

To which the principal said, “So studies actually show that lecturing is not the way students learn best. We know now based on brain research that small groups and student-led learning are the best ways to get information to stick.”

"Oh. Okay," he said. "Good to know."

He didn’t get the job.

When he called me afterward to relay the story, he was dying laughing, but also driving as fast as he could home. Before his next interview, we did a little more prep work.

The good news is, he’s a head coach now and isn’t lecturing any of your children on the Punic Wars.

As an educator myself, I spent a semester of college deep in the research of the human brain: what we know now about how it works, learns, digests, and retains information. I wrote papers on it and read books on it.

When he told me his answer to the question I cringe-laughed, knowing that was the exact opposite answer a principal would want to hear.

Lecturing is antiquated. It doesn’t stick. Most don’t learn best this way. Any good educator knows this.

So here we are, decades into this brain-research, decades into educators and businesses completely modifying and evolving teaching strategies based on learning styles and retention data.

Everyone has changed the model to fit best practice.

Except the church.

In church, we still sit in a large room of rows, facing forward. We listen to someone lecture for 32-48 minutes straight. The good students try to take notes, but many don’t. A few jokes are thrown in for levity. A few pop-culture references for relevance.

The crowd disperses. The congregants decide on where to eat lunch. And everyone moves on with their day. Unchanged.

It’s not sticking.

Then, we all look at each other and scratch our heads and think, “Why isn’t it sticking? These dang church-goers keep sucking it up.”

We chalk it up to humans being human, wipe our hands clean of any culpability, and keep doing what we’ve always been doing, even though research continues to show us it isn’t working.

Information sticks best when we get to conclusions on our own rather than being spoon fed.

The best teachers use texts, research, history, statistics to guide conversations. They help students discuss, they ask questions that require critical thinking and give them the power to arrive at their own understanding using their own reasoning.

The teacher is not the one with all the answers and solutions, but instead the facilitator who walks WITH their learners towards understanding.

If we know, and have known for decades, that lecturing doesn’t work, why is it so surprising to see a lack of the fruits of the spirit in the church, when we continue to model church around a weekly lecture?

If we want to see change in the church, in my opinion, this has to be one of the first places to start.

Rather than one active teacher preaching to hundreds of passive members, I see a room of round tables of 8-10 people with an expert guiding the room with information, texts, and critical questions like, “Here’s what I know. Discuss amongst your tables what you think this means. What does this mean for us as individuals? How do you see this apply to you, right now, in your current situation?”

I see home churches meeting in small groups.

Instead of lecturing being the MAIN THING and small groups being the if-you-have-time secondary extra, I see small groups being the core and lecturing being the bonus.

I see that we have done the same thing for hundreds of years with little to no proof in the pudding.

I see hypocrisy and hard hearts towards our neighbors.

I see biblical illiteracy.

I see a lack of servant-mindedness.

I see a lack of confidence and understanding in the Gospel.

I see that we will either have to change or be changed.

We can either dig our heels in and say, “This is how it’s always been.”

Or we can look at our past, learn from our present, and say, “We have been doing church the same way for centuries despite a changing understanding, changing culture, and changing technology and it’s time to adjust based on what we know is best.”

Or else, just like my husband, we won’t be teaching anyone anything.