Convictions
"I am striving to see the world through a lens, unblemished by the world’s thumb print, or the haze of my prejudice."
"What do you mean," David Powell asked his friend. He and Cooper Downs were in their early twenties, a year out of college and teaching at the same middle school in town. David taught Science, Cooper taught English.
"Life is filtered by the causes of this world. It makes an attempt to blind us to what follows. These classrooms are an example. Most young people are lost and not even seeking to be found."
"Still not following you." David was accustomed to his friend’s rambling philosophical thoughts. Cooper was the most introverted person he knew, although Cooper would not agree. Cooper Downs claimed to be an extrovert of the spirit, whatever that meant.
"So, today," Cooper responded, "if you pick up a newspaper, do not look beyond the top of the fold. There is nothing in that print worth building your life upon. But say a prayer for every victim of disaster or a crime, without reading the words telling of their trauma. Pray for their souls, especially those who have perished. Also, say a prayer for the one who perpetrates the wrongdoing."
"Easy for you to say through that clean lens."
"My lens isn't clean," Cooper replied.
"So, what kind of paper are you forcing those unfortunate students of yours to write?" David asked, changing the subject.
"I want them to write about their deepest conviction, Mister Powell. Unlike you, my good friend, I believe in a purpose with much more depth than what your favorite subject offers." All through college their subject choices were at odds. David believed the Science. Cooper's favorite piece of literature was the Bible.
"Coop, we teach in a public school. Don't forget that reality. Having students write about their deepest convictions could go down a real dark rabbit's hole."
"He is the light... not the darkness," Cooper said. His friend knew he was speaking about faith in Jesus.
"Still..."
"I didn't ask them to write about faith, religion, or their view of a carpenter from Nazareth. The assignment is to write about their convictions, not mine."
"And you would be open to whatever they write?" David asked.
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"Because," David began, "you have a class with a couple Jewish kids. At least half the class is more dedicated to the next party than anything else. I'm sure a few are devout atheists, probably just looking for a battle over religion in a public school."
"And I have Jane Blair."
David thought for a long moment about the individual his friend had just mentioned. David had Jane in his class as well. She had argued the theory of creation with him. In the end his head throbbed and spun like a top. For a thirteen year old, she had the mind and spiritual conviction of an ancient theologian.
"You know Miss Blair is also in my class, right?"
Cooper nodded.
"She boldly told me I needed church."
"I don't doubt it. I've been telling you that for at least four years, give a month or two."
"I went. I've joined a church."
"Now you understand," Cooper replied. "Now you know why I wish to see the world through a clean lens. I want to see an unblemished world. I want to see as Jane Blair does and maybe, just maybe, a single young person, who is clinging to this world's coattails, will let go... and seek something better.
Comments
Post a Comment