Taught the teens tonight. Or tried to.
I had prepared well, or thought I had. There was a structure, a passage, some questions I thought would open something up. For a few minutes it seemed like it might work. Then I noticed it. The particular way teenagers go absent while still being present. Phones just below the table. Eyes that move but don’t land anywhere. The polite nod that means nothing is getting through.
I kept going but I had already lost them. Finished the session, said goodbye, drove home.
On the way back Matthew 7:6 came to mind.
Give not that which is holy unto the dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet.
I have always found this verse uncomfortable. It sits awkwardly next to everything else Jesus says about going out, seeking, leaving the ninety-nine for the one. On a surface reading it sounds like permission to give up. Or worse, contempt.
But I don’t think that’s what it’s saying. I think it’s about discernment. There’s a readiness that has to exist in the person receiving, and you cannot force it into being by talking more or preparing better notes. Sacred things require a kind of openness in the listener, and when that isn’t there, pressing harder doesn’t help. It might even make it worse.
The harder thing to sit with is that I went in wanting them to want it. And that wanting-them-to-want-it was its own kind of problem. Teaching that comes from that place tends to become about the teacher more than the students. I’m not sure I was actually serving them tonight so much as hoping to feel useful.
I don’t think the verse means abandon them. It doesn’t say the pearls aren’t for them. It says don’t cast, which is about timing and approach, not about writing people off. Maybe the work right now is just showing up. Being someone who comes back. Letting that be what it is.
Said Compline before bed. Lit one candle, said the collect slowly. Lighten our darkness, we beseech thee, O Lord. Meant it for all of us.