America's Hard and Heavy Yoke: Wednesday Week 2 of Advent

We have created a pseudo-happiness, largely based in having instead of being. We are so overstimulated that the ordinary no longer delights us. We cannot rest or abide in our naked being in God, as Jesus offers us.

-Richard Rohr

Last spring, Tarrant County College offered me a full-time job. I took it. The transition to teaching college from high school has been refreshing, to say the least. If you find any public educator that works with K-12 students, buy them a coffee (and maybe something stronger) and ask them about their job. You may find yourself in an endless vortex of acronyms and despair (and rarely are their complaints about students. It's almost always attached to unrealistic expectations and unsupportive policies). I was fortunate enough to have great high school students and a supportive administration, but even then, the job can feel like you're drowning in responsibilities and pointless programs while politicians with $3,000 suits throw TPS reports at you from their windowed corner offices, claiming teachers are the problem. 

One the frustrating things with K-12 education is that there isn't an opportunity to move up the ranks unless you want to go into administration, which, if you know me, wouldn't be a good fit.* This was one of the primary factors that attracted me to teaching college.

When I started at TCC, I found myself situated in the midst of brilliant, articulate people, feeling under-qualified. Not only that, but the college provided an outlet to satisfy my ambition to "move up" with rank and tenure. I spiraled into a frenzy, looking into Ph.D. programs, looking for groups to join in order to expand and polish my resume, anything that could put me on level playing ground with my colleagues. Nevermind that I had only been working at TCC for a couple of months, have two kids, and great coworkers who hadn't done or said a thing to make me feel this way. It didn't matter. Now was not the time to rest; it was time to go, to work, to ascend! 

It's so funny writing a story like this because everyone knows the outcome: You crash and realize you can't do it. You get overwhelmed and exhausted. I always think about that line Bilbo has in Lord of the Rings: “I feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread.” I ignored my wife who kept trying to ground me in reality: my new job, my healthy kids, time to enjoy my hobbies, the lack of stress from my old job. I ignored her and became a human doing instead of a human being. 

But Christ offers an alternative, a way of escaping the bustle of America's hard and heavy yoke: 

"Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest."

May we realize that taking the yoke of Jesus's teaching brings us to a place of rest and contentment. May we learn to end the American striving for our constant economic ascent and savor the small beauties that surround us every day. 

Come, Lord Jesus. 

Isaiah 40:25–31

Matthew 11:28–30

*Here's how my interaction with a student would go: 

Principal me: Stephanie, Did you throw your fidget spinner at Billy's head?

Student: Yes. 

Principal me: Why? 

Student: I had to take care of my mom when she came home drunk last night. I didn't get any sleep, and I just got mad. 

Principal me: ***tears*** Oh, my gosh. It's all going to be ok. Let me pay for you to stay in a hotel. Do you need a ride? I'll talk to Billy and pay his medical bills. Everything will be alright. ***tears***