Is it too idealistic to think that a teacher who really cares about the subject and about his class will only rarely suffer this fate?

I think that’s likely most of the time. However what if what the class is interested in and what the teacher is don’t exactly mesh well?

Look again at the Sermon on the Mount. I am calling it a lecture because Jesus never asked for people to raise their hands, to answer questions, to share insights or personal experiences. Yes, Jesus asked several questions, but they were meant to be answered silently.

Note that Joe asks a lot of questions but that his questions are often—but not always—rhetorical.

That’s worth tattooing on my forehead.

I’m not sure I do much besides lecture….

And yet I ask a good many questions….

Hmmm….

I very much agree.

What makes the content of this blog a worthwhile discussion is the thoughtful input of those who are posting AND the desire by those who are posting to join in a dialogue–to building ideas off of each other’s ideas and, in the end, to reach understandings that we likely would not have had on our own. That is the kind of discussion that I value in SS too.

One final thought: One of the most effective ways for a teacher to demonstrate their sincerity in asking questions is to “use” the response(s) they get to these questions in order to further the purpose of the lesson. Of course the teacher has the minimal responsibility to at least acknowledge a response (sadly even this type of teacher response doesn’t always happen), but I am referring to more meaningful use of class responses to questions, such as the following:
1) using a response in order to refer back to the scripture or gospel principle at hand
2) pointing out connections between several responses, or asking the class to try to articulate those connections
3) probing deeper into the response (as some have suggested in this blog)

The first on this list is by far the most important to me. When I see this kind of use of responses to questions I know I am in a good SS class.

I like to ask what the issues raised by the reading are. Of course as a teacher I have to have some idea of what those issues are myself and I have to have some idea of how to pose questions that bring out those issues. Sometimes just saying what are the issues is enough. I’m pretty much convinced that good questions must be crafted thoughtfully and that the person doing the crafting does well to ask him/herself what kind of answers will be forthcoming before deciding to use a particular question or series of questions.

There has been so much emphasis on facilitating lately that many teachers act as facilitators rather than try to teach something. I don’t care how good your questions are if you don’t know where you want to go and what you want the class to remember at the end of the few minutes you have together frustration will follow.

Chrylem’s post #7 is, from my point of view, an excellent way to approach any kind of teaching.

1. There are lots of teaching methods besides discussions and lectures. And the best lessons use multiple methods.

2. Questions are not synonymous with discussions. They are a great way to start and direct discussions, but they are a lot more versatile!

For example, today I had the privilege of teaching a Primary class. We read some verses in Alma 37, then to help explain them I asked some questions: How do we keep metal bright? What’s a good way to polish scriptures written on metal plates? So how do we make our scriptures “retain their brightness”? It wasn’t really a discussion, more back and forth between me and them. They are bright students and gave great answers, and this method of teaching engaged them a lot more than a lecture would have.

Actually, we did have a discussion later in the lesson, and I didn’t even plan it! After reading Alma’s comments on the Liahona later in the chapter, someone mentioned Jack Sparrow’s compass from the Pirates of the Caribbean movie, so we compared it to the Liahona, and had a great discussion on which would be more useful: a compass that pointed to your deepest desire or one that pointed to where the Lord wanted you to go.

I’ve taught various kinds of classes for many years, and I wholeheartedly agree with BrianJ’s main point: Effective questions are the ones you care about. (And generally not the ones in the manual unless you wrote the manual! Although those questions are often helpful in triggering ideas for your own questions.)

Overall, I want to fight against the notion that the goal going into a classroom is to generate a discussion, or that lecturing is bad in and of itself. I think you agree.

Does this explanation ring true to anyone else?

I suppose I’m speaking more from a pragmatic angle than I am saying something definitive about discussions vs. lecture. I recognize that lectures can be “very moving,” as you say. But, as far as I can recall, I’ve never seen it. Not in Sunday School. And not in priesthood quorum. My wife agrees, speaking from her experience. On the other hand, just about every good Sunday School lesson I can recall had a good discussion at some level. So I’m simply speaking from my experience.

So, basically, I am speaking to the fact that, from my experience, poor or mediocre teachers are more likely to lectures, and good or excellent teachers (almost?) always facilitate discussion.

Certainly there could be exceptions. However, speaking for myself, if I was tempted to do more of a lecture for Sunday School, I would have to ask myself why. With the exceptions of certain circumstances (e.g., a very large class or a special topic for which you have expertise), I am doubtful of the particular benefits — especially after the “lectures” of sacrament meeting. Moreover, I worry that it may communicate bad faith to the class you are teaching.

Regarding your questions to me specifically, when I ask how students relate to the reading, I am asking a wide open question. It is kind of like a word association exercise - some will give back other scriptures which are related, others will talk about how this particular scriptures has a personal meaning for them, someone else will relate how the scripture in question was important to them during a turning-point period in his or her life (I have gotten this response several times), someone else might say - “what I like about this scripture is . . . ” and then make a specific point. Someone else might ask a question . . .”when Mosiah talks about having no contention, and hearts knit together in unity and love, how is this possible? Even in marriage there is contention.” This particular question, asked just a few lessons ago by a class member, started a very engaged discussion about handling conflict in the workplace, at home, at church. I let it go for awhile - it was obviously a topic that resonated with many. I also emphasized that Mosiah also said, “and thus he commanded them to preach, and thus they became the children of God.” Then, eventually I brought the discussion back to the specific scripture, talking about conflict in the church regarding baptism (this was one of the big conflicts between Lamanites and Nephites, and Nephites and Nephites), and how I thought the verse might be relating to this issue, but that the greater discussion had been excellent - as Christians, how do we live with conflict when we are commanded to be knit in unity and love, thus becoming children of God? And the question came right out of opening up class by inviting discussion.

In other words, in a GD class I believe that each person can read the same scripture and have something different and worthwhile to say or ask about it - and we all benefit by listening to and engaging each other. This is especially true in BOM classes because more people are likely to have read it - if not for this specific lesson - some time in their lives.

Also, asking class members how they would teach a section is for me an important teaching tool. Something in me is always teaching people to teach. I don’t often get answers to this question specifically but I most always ask it. I want my class to think about themselves as teachers since they might actually be asked to teach themselves sooner than later.

If I get no answer (only silence) to any question, I wait a couple of minutes and then say, “Well, you can think about this,” and then move on.

Regarding the non-contradiction approach, I do set some parameters. We don’t talk about politics. Comments have to be related to the scriptures. But . . . this approach is important to me. One of the things I try to teach is kindness as a teacher, along with a respect for everyone’s spiritual and intellectual understanding of our text. I have had at least one person say they she had not made a comment in GD for years because a teacher - a SP no less - had contradicted and corrected a comment she had made in a GD class and she had felt humiliated. Just recently (and I have been teaching for since the beginning of the New Testament rotation) this person has begun to talk out loud in class.

Occasionally I HAVE contradicted someone, and when I realize I do this I try to immediately apologize, not for what I said, but the manner in which I said it. Other ways to guide are to say: “That’s an interesting perspective, and thanks for putting it on the table, Any other comments?” and someone else is ready to get us right back to where we need to be. Or I might say, “What I am suggesting is that we come at this text from a different perspective, look at it a in new way,” etc. Or if someone is trying to argue with me as teacher (this happens very rarely, but it does happen), I might offer, “Okay. Okay.” a beat or two of silence. Then, “Moving on to verse .. . ” This usually gets some laughter, and we are back on track.

These are just some methods that work for me. I don’t mean to sound manipulative. The important thing to me is that GD is a safe place for people to make comments, ask questions, and . . . talk about what is most precious and meaningful in their lives. When people feel safe, their minds are open, and I am able to teach at a reasonably advanced level - I hand out detailed notes, after all. Plus there is the added benefit - never to be understated - of SPIRIT.

Here is a visualization I often perform: taking a minute of silence standing in front of the class, or even in the advance prayers regarding the class, I visualize the Spirit - that non physical body person - or angel guides even - moving silently and unseen among my class members, touching each one physically, standing by each one with hands on either side of the person’s head - opening up their minds, healing their hearts. I figure if the Spirit is performing this function, and I’ve prepared the best I could as a teacher, I don’t have to worry about my own imperfections or wonder how I’m doing - a better teacher than me is in the room, mediating the discussion and the material

Well, this has been wordy. Hope not too much so.

Clark, “…end up teaching about stuff you care about and no one else does.” Too true. Is it too idealistic to think that a teacher who really cares about the subject and about his class will only rarely suffer this fate?

cherylem, Why do you ask how students relate to the reading? What do you mean by that or what kind of response do you expect? I am intrigued by the “how would you teach this” question—teaching always demands more understanding than learning, so this kind of question is sure to evoke a thoughtful response.

ed42, “Yes, there are bad questions!” My contention here is that primary questions can be very good no matter who you are teaching. What makes a question “good” is not so much its substance but rather its honesty. One might ask a group of high priests, “How can I get my family to show love to each other?” and a 4-yr-old from Sunbeams might reply, “You could say nice things to each other”—and you know, that might just be the answer you really needed.

robf, “don’t accept an answer that a primary child could give.” I agree, and see this as a way of telling the class that you really care about what you are asking: “I asked for a meal; soup just ain’t gonna cut it!” (sorry for the Seinfeld reference!)

Dennis, I think there are some areas where we agree and some we don’t. I agree with what you say at the end: let the Spirit carry a discussion—as opposed to cutting it short so one can “cover all the material.” But I have to disagree on the discussion part: I have no loyalty to discussions. I think the reason that you like discussions is because most of the people talking are saying things that are important to them, and of course that invites the Spirit (aka, the Spirit of Truth) better than an empty, one-sided lecture. But lectures can be very moving if the teacher is so inspired and committed.

cherylem, “what happens when the same people respond to questions…week after week?” I’m glad you brought this up and shared your ideas. My approach to pretty much leave people alone; not everyone is a blabber-mouth, know-it-all, limelight-loving prima dona like myself. {smile} Still, in order to reach more students, I try to mix up the topics I focus on and my tone (e.g., serious at times, light-hearted (bordering on flippant) at other times).

I’m struggling with your non-contradiction approach. Part of me sees your point, but another part says, “Hold on missy! If you really care about what you teach then you will care enough to get it right.” I even said things like that to my GD class; e.g., “If I understand what you’re saying, then I don’t think we see this the same way”—after which we would spend time talking about our different points of view and our reasons for them. At different times I was more or less convinced that I was right, and that changed the way that I approached those discussions.

ZD Eve, “personal experiences aren’t beside the point. They are the point.” Well said.

Dennis and ZD Eve, if I can speak for Joe, I think you may be misreading Joe a bit. When he says “text,” he always means the scriptures and he never means it in an academic way. Joe is preaching a fidelity to the scriptures that forces one to give up oneself entirely. In this context, what a teacher teaches (the academy of the classroom), or even how the teacher teaches (the mechanics of the classroom), are not so important as whether or not the student connects with the text.

Kevin Barney, I can’t imagine you having any fear in front of a class. Thanks for bringing up that old attorney advice. Can you believe I actually used to “teach” with that as my guideline?! blech! yuck! At least that was short-lived.

I entirely agree; I just use the word “thought” in a bit broader sense (a la Alain Badiou), in fact, in a sense such that “thought” is broader still than “being”! :)

I’m uncomfortable with church discussion that tends to skate along on a textbook, intellectual level without going deeper, into the text’s implications for how we live. That’s where I would agree with you–that the scriptures have to shatter our thinking, but I would add that they have to shatter more than our thinking; they have to shatter our entire way of being.

Help?

In the case of the scriptures, it seems it would be better to say “our lives don’t mean anything until they intersect with the text.” That is, we tend to spin on the same old things, never move in the direction of truth, accomplish absolutely nothing, etc., until the scriptures shatter our thinking.

I have a good many thoughts on all of this, but little time this afternoon. I’ll try to get back to this sometime tomorrow.

I really liked the point above about follow-up questions. I think the most skillful teachers are able to make connections between the points various class members make.

And I agree that sticking to the text and avoiding other sources is important–I’ve seen too many Word of Wisdom lessons devolve into random diet tips and extremely dubious claims for and against various foods. But on the other hand, the text doesn’t mean anything until it intersects with our lives. Religious teaching is distinct from academic discussion in that respect, and so I think personal experiences aren’t beside the point. They are the point.

I definitely agree with what you are saying. All very good ideas. I guess that from where I sit, gospel teaching is often so bad that many teachers would improve their lessons by simply guiding a discussion.

Joe,

I agree, but I’m not sure if I would take it as far as you (depending on if I’m understanding you right). I guess it would depend on how being grounded in the text practically plays out for you. But to say that questions “must always lead back to the text” sounds a little too academic for me. I think that people can share testimonies and experiences in which the Spirit is very much present, in which we are not led (directly) back to the text. Certainly, this discussion should always be RELATED to the text, but the relation, for me, can be quite broad.

Moreover I worry about such a universal and moral imperative: that questions MUST and ALWAYS lead back to the text. Sometimes there is a value to the open-ended and perhaps even unrelated comments of others, in terms of building community and worshiping with others.

Another thing I worry about is an “ordinary” member of the Church who constantly feels inadequate because everyone else seems to be reading the scriptures better than they are. There are also members who have a tough time reading, some of whom are old and not likely to improve. Still, such a person might have some valuable things to say that are not directly grounded in the text. But I guess I’d really like to see what you have in mind in action.

Though, I will say that I am in agreement that we should be spending A LOT more time in the text.

Questions, then, it seems to me, must always lead back to the text. We ask questions in order to get the class to think about the text, to look at the text. So long as a question does that, I don’t know that it much matters whether the same people end up talking. In fact, I think our questions ought to take the text seriously enough that no one can answer the question without at least a few seconds’ real thought, such that everyone listening is forced for a minute to take a look at the text seriously.

I love that Joseph Smith said he always tried to have something new for his audiences. How many times do we get to class, ready for a feast, and have the teacher pull out the equivalent of spiritual Cheetos. Hopefully, not very often, though sadly, it does occur.

Different people learn in different ways, and their learning is facilitated by different teaching methods. Asking questions is only one way to facilitate learning. These are the methods I have been using lately, and which may change (probably will) over time. Nevertheless, they are working for me right now:

a) at least one period of silent reading - as in we read a section of scripture together, but no one is reading it out loud. Before the reading time, I ask the class to be prepared to think about/talk about what they think is important in the section, or what response/interaction they felt with the section
b) use of notes. “On the notes this section is outlined . . .”
c) questions
d) making a “teacherly” point - through lecture. Hopefully this point will be something new and/or important and stretching and Spirit-led that I am bringing to the table
e) recapping a discussion

Another question or series of questions I use occurs when someone asks a question during the discussion period. I’ll repeat the question and then ask the class for an answer. “How would you answer this question?” Or if someone makes a point that is thought-provoking, I’ll ask, “What do you think of this comment? Do you agree? What do you think about this?” I try never to correct anyone, but to permit everyone to put their ideas “out there.” without fear of contradiction, thus providing a safe environment that nurtures thought, learning, participation and Spirit.

Also, NOT being afraid of silence is critical. Silence just means people are thinking.

What works for you? (and I know BrianJ included the three types of questions that work for him . . . ) And by the way, Brian, I liked all of the questions at the end, depending on context and the emphasis on different words within the questions (like an actor’s exercise). Except maybe the “what’s for lunch?” a question I have heard ad nauseum for too many years, and which interpreted means: my mouth is open, feed me. Still, in a in a gospel context . .. the question is relevant, because as GD teachers we are the food preparers, and the question could mean: what will we be feasting on today? >grin<

I will say that I wish MORE teachers cared about discussion — even for discussion’s sake. Almost without fail, when there has been a good lesson, and I ask myself, “Why was this a good lesson?” The answer is because it was largely discussion based. Not unguided discussion, of course. But if teachers could only guide discussions well, it would make all the difference. But maybe that’s just me. But I doubt it.

One other thing to think about. For me asking questions is at least two-fold. The first comes in preparing a few good questions — I like to come up with three major questions that I feel are particularly good at getting a nice discussion going. But the second is perhaps more important — facilitating discussion with follow-up questions. From my experience, this is rarely done (well) in our gospel teaching. Great teachers will take a student’s answer to a question, and then, often excitedly, will suddenly have a question, perhaps to the whole class, that follows up on the original question. And this doesn’t just have to be an exercise to move us along to the next point. If there’s a good discussion where the Spirit is present, then just keep on doing it for the entire lesson! Oh, if only our teachers could learn this one lesson…

Or perhaps, more appropriately, don’t accept an answer that a primary child could give if you are teaching an adult class. Make the class dig deeper! Use “why?” or “what the heck does that mean?” as ways to further probe those inane answers. That’ll wake up the class and put them on notice that this isn’t CTR-B!

Interestingly, the Nehors in Ammonihah seem to take a similar overly literal take on the gnashing of teeth (Alma 14:21).

Not sure what to make of all that, but there seems to be echoes here of something deeper.

2) A very important insight, thanks.

3) Yeah, a lot more here to think about. I suspect there’s a lot more here than just the law of witnesses thing that we normally emphasize.

Also, there must be something more to the whole “earth should pass away” part of Alma 9:2. What’s that all about? Still pondering that one.

Actually, now that I think about it, the whole purpose of the Mesoamerican priestly rituals I’m referring to is to keep the whole world going. Perhaps they are responding to something Alma said that called that worldview into question? They “don’t know” that the world will pass away, because all their rituals are focused on maintaining the cosmos (just read some stuff on Maya Cosmology to get a flavor of what kind of stuff the Nehors may have been into here). I’ll have to go back and look at that some more.

A couple of major points:

1) I too was thinking how strange it is to believe in a universal, do-whatever-you-want-and-be-saved atonement and still care at all about what others believe, the need for priests, etc. One way of looking at Nehorism is that it is very ecumenical: all roads lead to heaven. The explanation that priests are required to open that road is so very compelling because it makes them soooo important, and it makes their religion extremely restrictive and not ecumenical at all. A Unitarian Universalist (today), would say to let every religion flourish and “do it’s thing,” but a Nehor would say that anything that gets in the way of the priests of Nehor would hinder the “opening up of salvation” and thus all other religions should be suppressed. In contrast, our (LDS) gospel is much more open than Nehor—though not quite as open as Unitarian Universalism. We (LDS) say that the individual can (and must) approach God directly, and if one misses out on priesthood in this life, don’t worry because that can be taken care of later.

2) You totally change the way one might regard Alma’s teachings on works in Ch 9. Instead of preaching from a “clean slate,” this is a direct rebuttal to a false teaching. As such, it may be a bit “heavy on the works” as a matter of contextual emphasis and not a matter of doctrine. This is how I read Timothy’s thoughts on works as well: Paul preached grace, grace, grace so much that some early Christians misunderstood and thought “anything goes”; Timothy comes in hard against that belief and reminds everyone that actions matter.

3) I wonder if there is something more to the “just one man” accusation.

a) believe in a universal salvation, but
b) believe in the necessity of priests and teachers

There must be more to the justification for priests and teachers than we’re getting here. Taken with their belief in “the Lord” and the hint of idolatry (as mentioned by RuthS #8), this makes me wonder if these folks are advocating some form of the traditional Mesoamerican religion, whereby a Corn God (”the Lord”) or other such figure is sacrificed for the salvation of all. All would be saved, but priests would be necessary to perform the rituals necessary for this sacrifice to be enacted and made effectual for all the people.

I think what we have here are Nephites (and Mulekites) who have forsaken the covenant of Benjamin and rejected the Church of Alma, for a traditional Mulekite (via the Jaredite) version of Mesoamerican paganism. That system would involve kings and priests, and universal salvation for the people as a whole, rather than the individual works and judgment advocated under the gospel as preached by Alma, and which the Nephite system of judges was instituted to support.

What all these groups have in common is idolatry. They all place something above the Lord. I am reminded of the story of the siege of Jerusalem when Hezekiah was king. The enemy translators spoke directly to the people to try and encourage them to surrender. What they did was attempt to plant doubts about the ability of the Lord to deliver them by saying none of the gods of the other peoples they had conquered had saved them.

The Ammonihahites knew what Benjamin, Mosiah and the two Alma’s believed. They were not ignorant of religion. Alma’s teachings were well known as the Ammoniha was founded by dissenters from the Nephite realm. They worshiped something other than the Lord God of Israel and wanted to replace the judges with a government more favorable to their own group. If we assume that stiff necked is a description of someone who cannot or will not bend, then the term really has very little to do with what a person believes and a lot to do with being able to be taught. It has to do with being willing to accept something other than ones own preconceived notions.

However, it is not surprising that they took a defensive posture when Alma came to teach them. I think that is a pretty normal reaction. Later we will see that those who were teachable listened.

a) believed in God–but we don’t know how they conceived of him, except that there would be a Lord who created all men who would save all men.
b) thought all mankind should be saved at the last day–so, presumably God is willing to put up with all kinds of behavior? and there would be a universal atonement?
c) felt there was no need to fear, but cause for rejoicing (echos of the priests of Noah here?)
d) Believed priests and teachers should be supported by the people–really an alternative priesthood here, which functions in society as more of a professional class, probably closely tied to the political leadership, as opposed to separate from it as in the Nephite system under Mosiah or the judges.
e) considered it acceptable to apply and enforce this system by the sword.

So when Alma shows up, they refuse to see his preaching as legitimate, because he wasn’t a member of this priesthood class which they were planning to impose by force upon the rest of the Nephites. He was just “one man” and not part of the system.