Years ago, we lived in a small town in Indiana. The church where my husband was preaching was very small, and we were new to the community. The people welcomed us, and soon we were surrounded by wonderful friends.
One of the couples lived about 30 miles away. We saw them almost every Sunday, and most Sundays they were at our house for lunch. Dick and Jane (those are their real names) had a little boy named Jason. Jason was in my Bible class and was a very bright little boy. Even at 2, Jason would enter enthusiastically into the Bible story and activities. On those occasions when his father was preaching somewhere on Sunday, Jane and Jason would accompany him. I would give Jane a copy of my Bible lesson and handwork, and she would teach him the lesson.
One Sunday they were away. My lesson was on how God made the animals; and I included how God made the caterpillar, changing it into a beautiful butterfly. I had made egg carton caterpillars and had bought plastic butterflies for all the children. Of course, I saved a caterpillar and butterfly for Jason and sent it home with Jane the next week.
Before Jason’s nap one afternoon, Jane read him a book about the caterpillar’s remarkable change to the beautiful butterfly. As he drifted off to sleep, she placed the egg carton caterpillar and the plastic butterfly on his dresser. During his nap, a breeze blew through the open window and caused the butterfly to fall off behind the dresser. Jane was standing in the hall just outside Jason’s room when he woke from his nap. Jason sat up in bed, rubbed his eyes, and looked for the elements of his Bible story. Not finding the butterfly, he picked up his caterpillar and said, “That dumb caterpillar ain’t changed into no butterfly yet.”
Jason got the lesson, but he was expecting the same thing from the egg carton caterpillar and plastic butterfly that God gives us in the real world. Sometimes we do the same thing in our discerning the lessons we hear from the scriptures. We either hear what we want to hear, or we simply believe what we want to believe. It may be our fault, or it may be the fault of the one teaching the lesson.
James warns us in James 3:1-2, “Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness. For we all stumble in many ways. And if anyone does not stumble in what he says, he is a perfect man, able also to bridle his whole body” (ESV).
As teachers, we set ourselves as examples, and we need to practice what we teach. If we don’t, our words can condemn us. Knowledge does not show itself in just words, but it shows itself in the way we live our lives and the things we do in our service to God.
We aren’t judges. That position belongs to God. “Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again” (Matthew 7:1-2 KJV).
Our teaching should not be for the purpose of judging, but it should be for the sharing of the gospel and the instruction for salvation and living a Christian life.
Not everything we teach resonates with the people we teach. Sometimes they “get it” and sometimes they don’t. Paul said that he planted, Apollos watered; but God gave the increase (I Corinthians 3:6). In other words, he preached the gospel, Apollos continued teaching; but God was the one that converted the hearts of men. Some obeyed, and some did not.
In the passage in James 3, James was concerned about the Christians being exposed to those who put would put themselves in position of authority and yet taught things that were not acceptable to God.
He puts himself in that same warning. He said, “we will be judged with greater strictness.” James knew that he also needed to be careful about what he taught.
So when we teach a class, conduct a Bible study, or study from God’s word, we need to do so with an open mind and an open heart. We need to seek the truth, not what we think or what we wish it says, but the truth.
Sandra Oliver