The “Rejoice” Stone

At the first teacher meeting of the new school year, my principal had agendas laid out at every seat. Located on top of each small stack of papers, was a little, polished metalic slug with a word etched into it. I sat down at a seat with the word “rejoice”.

That is going to be my word for the year. I think I’ll put it in the top of my desk drawer so that I will be reminded of it everytime I open it.

[Rejoice]

Where’s the Joy?

The previous entry reminded me of a story.
A priest visited a Trappist Monastery for a couple weeks as a retreat for rejuvenating his spirit. (I think the priest was Henri Nouwen.) The abbot confided in the priest that he was thinking of asking one of the novices to leave the community. He asked the priest if he could figure out which one.
After serval days, while at daily Mass, the visiting priest leaned over to the abbot and pointed at one of the novices. The abbot nodded his head in agreement. After Mass, the priest asked the abbot why he was going to ask that particular novice to leave. The abbot said that the novice was too “serious” about loving God. The novice did not seem to have any joy in his life from his contemplating and praying with God.

Be Still

From John Kirvan’s book, Raw Faith:

Let nothing disturb you.
Let nothing make you afraid.

— St. Teresa of Avila

It’s amazing how many of us think that being anxious and worried is a sign that we are spiritual, that we are committed, that we are not like everyone else, content to live on the surface of life.

According to this school of spirituality, there is nothing like a long face and a distracted soul, worried and busied by many things to demonstrate our spiritual depth! “Loving God is very serious business. It’s enough to bring on an ulcer.”

There is also, apparently, according to this gospel of anxiety, nothing quite as spiritual as living our days in fear and trepidation, all but certain that our slightest misstep, our slightest unoccupied moment will cost us the love of God. The key to this kind of spirituality is “stay busy” because it’s all up to us.

The idea that we should just stand there in confidence while God does what only God can do, what in fact we can never do for ourselves, and what no amount of fear and anxiety can accomplish, is incomprehensible.

But then into the noisy, hassled center of our soul comes a voice of common sense, the truth of whose words we understand immediately and instinctively. “Let nothing disturb you. Let nothing make you afraid.”

It’s the voice of Teresa, but we hear another voice in another room: “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, when only one thing is needed.” Or from a mountainside we hear: “…do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself.” And we hear an even more ancient voice that says: “Be still and see that I am God.”

Be not disturbed. Stay still. There is nothing to worry about.

They Call Me “Mister Woo”

My students have a nickname for me. They call me “Mister Woo”. You know that they like you if you have a nickname, at least one they can call you in front of your face.
It all started three years ago during the first couple months at my new high school. I was not so worried about teaching. I knew my subject. I was more worried about trying to fit in. This new school was small, only 250 or so students. I was coming from teaching in a large, public high school with 1400+ students. The idea of a small school was completely new to me. I even graduated from a large high school with over 2500 students, 800 in my class alone. Ironically, I went to a relatively small college with about 2500 students too. Either way, 250 was something I was not used to. With only 250 students, you get to know everybody, and everybody gets to know you.
The other thing about this new school was that it was a catholic school. It was a community based on faith, and I didn’t have any at the time. Looking back, I know that is why I ended up there.
Well, about every Wednesday, our bell schedule has a one hour period at the end of the day set aside for community time. The whole school gets together, usually in the auditorium, for something. Sometimes it will be a guest speaker, a guest performance group like drama or a band, the school play, talent show, pep rallies, prayer services, Mass once a month in the church across the street, etc. To keep things organized, everybody must sit with their homeroom. Homerooms are assigned seats in rows of two’s and three’s with the senior homerooms clumped together, juniors together, and so on. They always rearrange the order of the homerooms so that everyone gets a chance to sit near the front. The homeroom teachers’ names are printed on a piece of paper and taped to the back of chairs to designate their area.
As luck would have it, my name was misspelled. Now, I have seen my name “Woodward” misspelled many times. Usually the second “w” is missing (especially in the southern U.S.). But this was the first time the first “d” was missing—Wooward. To be honest, I didn’t notice the misspelling for the first couple weeks. When I did, I remember thinking, “That’s my luck. So much for first impressions.” I was still so new, I didn’t even know to whom to complain.
A couple weeks later, one of my more adventurous students started calling me “Mister Woo”. I didn’t know what to think of it at first. Before too long, it had caught on, and most of my students were calling me that. Then a teacher or two, my own colleagues, starting calling me “Mister Woo” too. When finally, near the end of that school year, the principal introduced me to someone by my new nickname, I knew I was stuck with it forever.
I knew back at that Christmas break that I had found a home at my new school. One that has managed to open the door to my heart wider than I ever thought possible.
It is funny how something as simple as a nickname can make you feel accepted and loved, a part of a community. I mean a real part, not someone tolerated at the fringe. That’s what a Christ-centered community can do for people. Invite them in. Make them feel welcome. It is then up to that person to choose how to respond.
My nickname has come with a second blessing. It seems that no one can say it without smiling. And that is part of why my heart still beams with joy every time I hear someone say, “Hey Mister Wooooo…”