The following was my Valedictorian speech at Tyndale University in November 2019. I graduated from this school with a Bachelor of Education.
If Jesus was in the teaching program at Tyndale, I’m not sure if he would graduate.
To start with, Jesus is living proof that a small class size won’t fix everything. He had a class of twelve, but he still managed to have all the cliché students of the average classroom. He had John - a classic overachiever. The guy wrote five books of the Bible, and addressed himself as “the disciple whom Jesus loved”. That’s bold. Then there’s Peter - the kid who’s constantly trying to win your love but generally just ends up exhausting you. He’s like the Dwight Schrute of the classroom. And Judas...I guess he was the kid with behavioural issues. There’s one in every class.
Apart from the fact that one of his students basically tried to get him fired in a very permanent way, and apart from the fact that his students consistently failed to understand a word he was saying, Jesus had a pretty desirable classroom. Small class size, lots of field trips – and no standardized testing. But even with that, Jesus broke the rules of teaching a number of times. There’s the time he was so fed up with Peter’s antics that he whirled around and yelled “Get behind me, Satan!” That is definitely a professional practice violation. He made physical contact with students all the time – it paid off, obviously, with the healing and all, but still, a bit risky. And when it comes to final assessment, Jesus has always been more of a pass/fail kind of guy.
Jesus was no stranger to classroom discipline either. His students often came to him with little gripes or misinterpretations of what he said, and although the Bible doesn’t mention it, I’m sure he found himself palming his forehead with exasperation on multiple occasions. When Peter walked on water for a few steps and then started sinking, Jesus didn’t take the friendly approach and say “It’s okay to not be good at this...yet”. No, he called Peter out for dropping the ball, and told him to do better.
That said, what I love about Jesus’ pedagogy is his commitment to storytelling. One of his students would ask a simple question like “who is my neighbor?”, and he would use this as a launching point for one of the most effective minds-on moments ever – the story of the Good Samaritan. He loved packing deep learning and thought-provoking ideas into his lessons. He didn’t do it by droning on for hours or reading out of a textbook. He did it by telling engaging stories that his students could get on board with. He packed great truth into bite-sized nuggets that he knew his class would take with them.
Jesus also loved visuals. He would’ve been the best science teacher ever. Forget kicking things off with a Kahoot or a little video – he would literally bring someone back from the dead and use it as a launch point to talk about faith. He knew that students remember what they see far better than what they hear, and he made sure his lessons were chock-full of unforgettable sights so that the learning would stick.
But the big thing, I think, that Jesus had going for him was his love for students. Yes, they drove him nuts, and just when the school board – Pharisees – whatever – started hurling allegations at him, his disciples were all of a sudden nowhere to be found. But no matter what, Jesus gave everything he had to his students. He spent as much time with them as he could, and whenever he went away to be on his own, he used that time to prepare himself for more time with them. He never gave up on a single one of them. Even Judas – who he knew was not going to pass final exams – got to participate in all of Jesus’ lessons. Jesus was patient with Peter through all of Peter’s mistakes. Even though Jesus was better than his students in every way, he made himself a servant and did things that were far beneath him. He fed his students. He calmed storms for them. He washed their feet. Jesus took the definition of self-sacrifice to the next level.
There’s a reason people all over the world of every faith have heard the name of Jesus and what kind of teacher he was. And it’s not because he was OCT certified or because he’d acquired a whole bunch of AQs. It’s because he loved his students unconditionally and always made a way for them to succeed, regardless of what they had done. The Bible has a famous passage about love, and I’d like to paraphrase it given that we’re about to step out into the world of teaching for ourselves.
If I differentiate my lessons and modify for every single student, but do not have love, I am only an echoing gong or a clanging cymbal. If I meet all curricular expectations and ensure my students exceed the provincial standard for every subject, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all my free time to extracurricular activities and participate in all the school fundraisers and decorate my classroom to the point that Pinterest starts chasing me down – if I do all that but do not have love, when all is said and done, I have gained nothing.
In this room are people from many faiths and many backgrounds. Who Jesus is to you may not be who He is to me. But we can all agree that teaching is a profession fundamentally different from so many others because of love. Everything we’re supposed do in the classroom – the standards of practice, the assessment tracking, the accomodations – that’s step one. That makes you a professional. But it’s the quality that Jesus had that makes you a teacher. I whole-heartedly believe that you cannot teach those who you do not love.
I’ve loved these past sixteen months with you guys, and I would not trade it for anything. I wish each of you a future filled with small class sizes and ample prep time. I wish that your coffees will never spill on your paperwork and that your principal will only walk in when you’re crushing it. But most of all, I wish that you will love your students – every one, every day, for as long as you can.