THE WORST OF TIMES

 4227

Pt. 1

I attended a local community college the fall after my high school graduation, and the following fall I transferred to Southeastern Bible College; the site of my salvation experience. Ultimately, I entered the U.S. Air Force, and returned to what was now Southeastern College a decade later; graduating with an undergrad degree.

Little could I have known at the time that I would go on to complete several additional academic pursuits, and would, ultimately, have the opportunity to serve at my alma mater.

Just short of forty years after I initially enrolled in my bachelor's program, I was offered, well, I'm slightly ahead of myself. Five years after the turn of this century, it so happened that my adult Sunday School teacher, Dr. Sam Bennett, the Dean of Education at the university, called me.

"Bill, this is Sam. I have an adjunct faculty position open teaching Educational Psychology. Your academic and vocational background would be just perfect for this job. Are you interested?"

You could have knocked me over with a feather. I never expected to have the opportunity to teach at my beloved school. 

I responded,

"Gee, I don't know, Sam."

(and)

"I've never done anything like that before."

Dr. Bennett encouraged me...

"You can think and pray about it, and let me know. I think you'll find it will fit you like a glove."

A few days later I called him back.

"Hi, Sam. I have considered your offer, and I look forward to making a difference in the lives of the students God has set in my pathway. Thank you for your kind offer."

Pt. 2

Three weeks later, I walked into my classroom, and for the first time stood on the other side of the lectern, rather than filling up a desk, as I had done countless times before. 

And thus began three and a half years in which I had the privilege of teaching three units of the same course on a weekly basis. Whereas, I had earned my teaching certificate, and prepared to serve in the public classroom, (something which never happened), God afforded me the inestimable opportunity to teach in a university environment.

I like to think I made a difference in untold hundreds of young lives there. Yes, I'm sure of it.

However...

Something occurred during my second year in this position which tore a king-sized hole in the proverbial fabric of my spirit. 

It was customary for every student of every professor in every class to fill out an anonymous survey at the end of each semester in which they responded to various questions about the course, and the faculty member. A few days later each professor received the results of these surveys; minus the names of the students who had completed them.

The adjunct faculty were not expected to receive quite the overall scores of the tenured faculty. We always fell a bit short on the point spread. Many of us part-timers worked fulltime jobs elsewhere. We didn't have as much time to dedicate to preparation, and in some cases, we were teaching out of our field.

However...

When I opened the envelope which contained my student surveys for the fall semester of 2007, and pored over them, one survey, in particular, cut my like a sword.

Whereas, the vast majority of the surveys contained passable numbers and remarks, this one, this one...

Well, in addition to the lowest numbers on a 1-10 scale I had received to date, there was a caustic remark.

"Your class is a joke!!!"

As you might imagine, I wasn't laughing.

The joke was on me.

Pt. 3

I immediately walked from where ever I happened to be on campus at the time to Dr. Bennett's office. His secretary buzzed him, and he stepped out, and greeted me.

He could tell I was absolutely dejected, and demoralized. Looking down at the student surveys which I held in my hand, my friend spoke.

"Bill, let's walk over to the student activities building."

I honestly have no idea why he chose to walk me over to this building vs. inviting me into his office. Nonetheless, I found myself following one step behind him, as we made our way to the building which had, at one time, been the...

Southeastern Bible College Chapel

the very location where I had come to a saving knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ four decades earlier.

We walked through the doorway, climbed halfway up a set of bleachers which looked down on the practice basketball court. The vast building was empty except for the two of us.

Of course, the irony and poignancy of the moment was not lost on me. 

I handed the offending survey to my boss, and after he had time to read those five words which ripped me like a saber, I spoke.

"It's obvious I don't belong here. I think I should offer you my resignation."

It was the worst of times! 

Oh, did I mention that Dr. Bennett was the Florida Public School Teacher of the Year for the year prior to assuming his position as Dean of Education at Southeastern University? Well, he was. He was in a league of his own.

Now, he spoke.

"Bill, I can imagine how hurtful those words are to you. And, I know from experience how a hundred 'attaboys' are canceled out by one 'nastygram.'"

(and)

"Don't you dare let that one anonymous opinion make you quit! You have done a fine job here, and you have made a real difference in lives!"

Now, I looked out towards the front of the gymnasium, and my gaze fell on the exact spot on the waxed floor where I had once knelt, and accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior; so many years before.

And now, my friend and I stood up, I smiled, and nodded, and we made our way out the door.

Afterward

Every time I walked to my classroom, and back to my vehicle I passed a beautiful fountain, and bronze statue which had placed in the midst of it. 

Jesus Washing Peter's Feet

Now, as I walked past the statue, it occurred to me. 

This man whom Jesus bestowed so much love and care upon, as He washed his feet that day, denied he ever knew Him. One of the Twelve betrayed Him, and the rest of His disciples fled. This was truly the worst of times.

In spite of what Jesus knew was about to occur, He was all about serving those whom God had set in His pathway. He would not stop 'til he completed His mission, and shouted, "It is finished" from the stark wooden cross from which He hung.

I looked back at that old building in which I had encountered two contrasting experiences separated by almost half a century.

It has been the best of times. It had been the worst of times.

Now, I smiled, and determined to finish what I had begun in that old chapel so many years before.

by William McDonald, PhD