Written by Director of Operations Beth Mennemeyer
On Wednesday, January 6, I was at my desk in my new home. Surrounded by boxes, mostly waiting impatient to be unpacked, freezing in the basement, I was teaching American History via Zoom. Our topic of the day was American Women in the late 1800s and the Cult of Domesticity. We’re a history class, not current events, though back in November we took a break to learn about the election system.
Our history class is unique in many ways. I don’t lecture a lot, and I ask the students to do a lot of independent learning. Our class time is spent focused on learning from each other. By asking questions, listening to one another, exploring our personal experiences, and always treating one another with respect, we are learning. We are wrestling with the way the history of our Nation unfolded, and how it impacts us now, in this time.
History is so much more than a series of dates and locations. History is people. And American History is people of different ethnic backgrounds, different skin tones, different cultures, different beliefs; America is a place of differences. This is as true today as it was when Washington led an army across the Delaware, on Christmas Day of 1776. And yet, in the midst of these differences, we have a commonality: the quest for a place of freedom, a place of opportunity, a place of equality.
It is never easy to look back on our country’s origins and see how our differences conflicted with our commonality. The Indigenious, the Immigrant, the Enslaved, the Settlers, the Founders – our experiences in freedom, opportunity, and equality were radically different. For some, those experiences still are.
And yet, I have been privileged to watch a group of young people straighten their shoulders under this burden of study. To view one another, and the past, with a steady gaze. To see how often there is more than one side of a line. To accept that perfection isn’t part of our story.
I strongly suspect that if you ask the students in my American History class what they have learned so far, you will get very different answers. Maybe they will talk about the Revolutionary War, or President Jefferson, or Women’s Suffrage. They can tell you that they’re learning how to see one another in compassion, to learn from one another in peace, to understand our differences and maybe even appreciate them. This is what I’m seeing in these young men and women.
In the middle of my Wednesday American History class, the Capitol building in Washington D.C. was taken over by citizens, forcing the suspension of our democratic system, triggering violence and destruction. I learned of these events during our class break. As I sat at my computer, waiting to restart our class session, I prayed for guidance. I prayed for a way to remind us all of our commonality. Watching the clock tick towards our restart time, I felt the weight of our differences pulling me down.
Once our class session restarted, the way became immediately clear to me. I have made space in our class for students to have different perspectives, political thoughts, to share their varied experiences. Because it is only in allowing that space that we can learn to trust our commonality. Looking into the young faces of my class, I knew what needed to happen: I briefly explained the situation and then I reminded them of our greatest commonality – our faith. I led them in prayer for the safety of all, for God’s peace to descend, for wisdom to come forth. I felt the weight or our differences lighten, lift away, leave me free to continue leading class.
I know not all Americans are Christian. I know how privileged I am to teach in a place that encourages prayer. I’m so humbled by the gift that is Berea Academy. Though not every Berea student is Christian, we are called to lead this community to Him. And I’m regularly pointed back to Jesus by my colleagues, friends, and students. God hasn’t asked me to minister in Africa, though that is an amazing call. God hasn’t asked me to become part of a religious order, though that, too, is an amazing call. God has called me to Berea Academy. And in that work, like all our work in and for the Kingdom, I am held to His goals – not my own.
I’m grateful for the time I spend with my students each week. I’m doubly grateful some of those students were with me on January 6, coming alongside one another to call out to God.
I would encourage all my fellow Christians to see the Good Work of these young people. I know we all have differences. Rather than fear those differences, turn your eyes and heart to our commonality.
1 John 3:21-23
The Passion Translation
21 My delightfully loved friends, when our hearts don’t condemn us, we have a bold freedom to speak face-to-face with God. 22 And whatever we ask of him we receive, because we keep his commands. And by our beautiful intentions we continue to do what brings pleasure to him.
23 So these are his commands: that we continually place our trust in the name of his Son, Jesus Christ, and that we keep loving one another, just as he has commanded us.