When I began teaching 50 years ago, I was a fledgling teacher if ever there was one. The word "fledging" refers to a young bird that's just acquired the ability to fly and is no longer dependent on the nest. Metaphorically, it can refer to a person who is new to a particular field or activity, such as a rookie NFL player or an electrician's apprentice. You're still mastering basic skills.
Remember, when I began teaching I was only 24. I had finished college only a year before. Fledgling teachers face significant challenges such as classroom management, overwhelming workloads, and exam design. So the semester I began teaching Greek I took two classes at the college in education -- College Teaching Procedures and Tests and Measurements. I discovered that the great majority of teachers believed that the biggest challenge in teaching is assessing academic progress and addressing the widening achievement gap.
Here's a question every teacher struggles with. I know I have for 5 decades. In fact, not a semester goes by without it haunting me. Why do some students thrive while others exposed to the exact same spiritual nourishment don't? How can it be that the same group of people can hear precisely the same message and receive the same encouragement and there be such a divergence of responses? How can there be, frankly, such indifference to what is being taught on the part of some students? When a farmer plants a field of corn and notices that some plants are thriving while others are struggling, he wants to know why. Here's an example from the life of a corn farmer on Youtube.
I thought about all of this during my morning time in the Gospel according to Mark. In chapter 4, Jesus seems to answer these questions of mine. He gets to the heart of the subject when he speaks of the soil. This explains why one student will grow by leaps and bounds and another will remain dull, uninterested, even apathetic. There's nothing wrong with the seed. Something's wrong with the soil.
Bad soil is unresponsive. It's preoccupied. It's distracted. It happened to me in my college days. When I arrived at Biola I wanted to do two things -- study the Bible and play varsity basketball. I quickly discovered that if I tried to do both, I would do neither of them well. I also came to Biola with a terrible attitude. Let me be blunt. My scholarly life was a joke. I didn't even try to be the best student I could be. If I could wing it in high school, surely I could wing it in college. Thomas Jefferson once said, "When the heart is right, the feet are swift." My heart was, in fact, foul and unreceptive. But when the heart is right, negativism and cynicism are swept away. To change, I began with confession. I repented. I analyzed my studies, the condition of my heart, my sensitivity to the things of God, my praying, my study habits. I realized that the harvest depends on the soil.
At some point in your studies, you will face a major decision in this regard. This is gutsy work. But you'll be further along if you start now. Without real change, you're not going to make it. There will be a major crop failure. I don't believe that's God's will for any of you. Brothers and sisters, let's get back to the business of being great students for the glory of Christ. I pray we begin today.