Yesterday I was preparing to lead a session on “Introduction to the Bible” for confirmation class. For years, I have gone to my library and grabbed Bibles in Hebrew and Greek so that I could show students what the modern version of the original languages looks like. Then I would grab a couple of specific translations to illustrate the difference between a team translation and a solo translation. I might also grab a paraphrase to use in discussing different versions of the Bible. My collection of Bibles, however, is much smaller than it was a few years ago. Making the choice of which Bibles to keep and which to leave behind was not done with an eye to teaching. I was retiring and I didn’t think I would be doing that kind of teaching again. So I kept Bibles with sentimental value. I have my Grandfather’s Bible, a bible that belonged to my father and one that my mother had before she was married. I kept the Oxford annotated bible that I used for my seminary education. I still have a collection of bibles, just not the ones I used to use for teaching.

I’ll still be able to make my teaching points at this afternoon’s class. I have a photo book of the Dead Sea Scrolls that we purchased when we were able to view fragments of the historic texts when they were on tour in Chicago. It shows fragmentary texts and has illustrations of the condition of the scrolls when they were discovered. It makes it easy to illustrate the challenges of translation. I have enough material for an extended class on the history of the Bible - way more than we will have time to cover in a single meeting of a confirmation class. I don’t need the resources that I used to take for granted and that I left behind when I moved. But for a few minutes, last night, I was sad and I missed the things I left behind.

Of course, my style of teaching is another thing that will be left behind in years to come. I can quickly draw up Greek and Hebrew texts on the Internet. All of the resources that I had crammed into boxes and boxes are available on my smartphone. I know how to put together a powerpoint presentation that covers the information we need to teach. That, however, is quite a different experience than sitting around a table and passing around actual books while we talk about the story of how the bible came to our generation. My style of teaching will one day fade and become a relic of a previous generation as new ways of teaching and learning emerge. I thought I was ready to accept that transition. I though I was ready to say good bye to files of papers and boxes of books. But there is a part of me that misses those resources.

This confirmation class has a special meaning to me. The confirmands are weary of almost two years of covid protocols, zoom classes, and disruptions their education. They were quick to advocate for in-person learning. We have a small group and are following all of the protocols of our church, wearing masks, keeping distance, and making sure that there is adequate ventilation. But we are meeting in person and that makes this class special to me. I want the experience of the youth to be meaningful and memorable to them. I feel like our time is a precious gift of the youth and their families. They lead busy lives with all kinds of demands on their time and they are making time and space to meet with us each week to prepare for the rite of confirmation. It is a precious gift that I don’t want to squander. I am working hard to make sure that I am prepared and ready to teach.

When I think back on my years of learning and some of the truly great teachers that have been a part of my life, however, I don’t remember the resources they used. I have specific memories of the stacks of paper handouts that one teacher used and the way another could fill a chalkboard with words and diagrams. I remember a teacher who had written the textbook for the class. You could attend the lectures or read the book. There was no need to do both - the content was all the same. What I remember about my teachers is the relationship we had. I remember the ones who believed in my potential and who trusted my curiosity and honored my questions.

The confirmands in our class will remember us not for the resources we bring to class, but the caring we bring to our relationship. The students want us to be authentic, genuine, and honest. They want us to respect their intelligence, curiosity and experiences.

I know that there are members of our congregation, and possibly members of our Faith Formation Board, who think of the confirmands as the future of the church. The truth is that the youth of a church are rarely the leaders of the next generation of that particular congregation. We “export” our youth. We send them forth in mission. They grow up and move to other places and engage in other congregations. Our job is not one of self preservation, but rather one of trusting the power of God to provide the resources the church needs in each generation and trusting the faith of the people of the church. Preparing for confirmation is a process of being the church in the present moment. It is an investment in community that is real and meaningful right now.

I don’t need a stack of resources to take into the room for our meeting this afternoon. I need my genuine self and the faith I have found. I need my own openness and willingness to learn. And, of course, I always carry with me the stories of our people - stories that are worth sharing. With the grace of God, some of those stories will be told in a different time and a different place by those who are preparing for confirmation today.