Anthony Maranise |
Most of my learners at St. Ann (and some of my faculty-friends) know that I am learning not only along with and from them regularly, but also as I simultaneously work towards my doctorate as I teach. I mention this simply because much of my doctoral coursework is online already. When the coronavirus outbreak began, as so many of you now know well, teachers across the world were ‘forced’ online to instruct their learners remotely. As a rather extroverted person, I derive much of my passion for teaching from the genuine joy of being able to directly and meaningfully interact with my learners – whether that is through in-person instruction or even mere casual pleasantries as we pass one another in the hallways. Though the precautionary impacts of the pandemic deprived me, temporarily, of that joy, it did not, could not, and will not stifle my passion for education nor the good zeal I have for the learners entrusted to my care. What the pandemic did do for me, as an educator, is – somewhat ironically – teach me two lessons which I would like to briefly share with you.
St. John Baptist de La Salle |
Lesson 2: An additional precautionary action during the pandemic (apart from the temporary physical distancing from our schools) was that of a sort of ‘freeze’ to public worship, liturgical, and/or sacramental offerings. I know that I am but one among many of the faithful for whom this was difficult, but I found some comfort in the wisdom of a book written by a friend of mine (and to many). In Living the Sacraments, Fr. David Knight writes, “In a sense, everything in life becomes a prayer. Everything becomes an experience of oneness with Christ because we are united with Him – in desire and in fact – in everything we do” (p. 37). There it was! Though our sacramental and worship lives – along with nearly every other conceivable aspect – had been disrupted to some extent by this pandemic, it would be in and through my passion for teaching and engagement (even though digital) with my learners (all of whom truly and vibrantly bear and outwardly reflect “the image and likeness of God” [Gen. 1:27] as we all do) that I would remain spiritually-grounded! The renowned Christian apologist and English literary phenom, C.S. Lewis, adds further support to Fr. Knight’s wise counsel, noting, “There are no ‘ordinary’ people. You have never spoken to a mere mortal… Next to the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbor is the holiest object presented to your senses” (The Weight of Glory). We took the precautions that we did out of loving concern for these persons – our neighbors – who are holy bearers of God’s own image and likeness. But, even though we were made physically distant from them – particularly for us educators, from our learners and faculty-friends – so many of us found greater union with God not through being apart from them, but in the being apart, by coming to realize how important these persons are to us; indeed, how much they teach, form, and add value to our own lives – often even more so than we do to theirs.