Principles of Teaching by Adam S. Bennion (feel good novels .TXT) 📖

they conceived the idea of laying a plank walk through the worst sections. And so they laid two six-inch planks side by side. The scheme helped wonderfully, except on short winter days when the men had to go to work in the darkness of early morning and return in the darkness of evening. It often was so dark that they would step off the planks, and once off they were about as muddy as if there had been no walk at all. Finally someone suggested the idea that if a lantern were hung up at each end of the walk it would then be easy to fix the eye upon the lantern and keep on the walk. The suggestion was acted upon, and thereafter the light of the lantern did hold them to the plank. Jacob Riis argued that the lantern of an ideal held aloft would similarly hold young men in life's path of righteousness.

A similar story is told of a farmer who experienced great difficulty in keeping a particular hen inside the run which he had built outside the hen house. He had put up a wire fence high enough, as he thought, to keep in the most ambitious chicken. In fact, he argued that no hen could fly over it. One hen persisted in getting out regularly, though the farmer could never discover how she did it. Finally he decided to lay for her (she laid for him regularly). To his great surprise, he watched her walk around the run carefully surveying it as she proceeded. At length she caught sight of a beam running along the top of the wire just above the gate. With her eye fixed upon it she made one mighty effort and was over.

The moral of the two stories is self-evident. Both hens and men can "go over" if they have something to aim at. It is so in life generally, and what is true of life generally is particularly true in the matter of teaching. The aim is one of the most significant features in the teaching process.

The teacher who knows where he is going can always get followers.

Important as is the aim in all educational endeavor, it is doubly so in religious training. We teach religiously not merely to build up facts or make for mental power; we teach to mold character. We should see through facts, therefore, to the fundamental truth lying behind and beyond them. Such a truth constitutes an aim in religious instruction.

One of the most regrettable facts connected with some of our teaching is that teachers leave the preparation of their lessons until the few minutes just preceding their recitation hour. They then hurry through a mass of facts, rush into class and mull over these dry husks, unable in the rush even to see the kernel of truth lying within. Little wonder pupils tire of such rations. It is the teacher's obligation to "see through" and discover the gems that really make lessons worth while.

Forty-five minutes once a week is so meagre an allotment of time for the teaching of the greatest principles of life! Surely every one of those minutes should be sacredly guarded for the consideration of vital truths. The aim, coupled with careful organization, is one of the best safeguards possible.

The aim is the great focus for a lesson's thought. It is the center about which all else revolves. It specifies what shall be included and what excluded out of the great mass of available material. A single chapter of scripture may contain truths enough for a dozen lessons, only one of which can be treated in any one recitation. The aim singles out what can be appropriately grouped under one unified discussion.

If we turn, for instance, to the ninth chapter of Matthew, we find at least eight different major incidents, each one deserving a lesson in itself. There is the case of:

The palsy. The charge of blasphemy. The glorifying of God by the multitude. The calling of Matthew. The statement that only the sick need the physician. The case of new cloth and the old garment. The raising of the daughter of Jairus. The healing of the two blind men.

It is perfectly clear that all of these incidents could not be adequately considered in any one lesson. Assuming that the teacher is free to handle this ninth chapter as he pleases, we are forced to the conclusion that knowing his class, as he does, he must choose that incident or that combination of incidents which will mean most in the lives of his pupils. In other words, he centers his attention upon one major central truth—his aim. By so doing he guards against wandering and inadequacy of treatment and makes for the unified presentation of one forceful thought.

It ought to be pointed out here that every teacher must be the judge as to what constitutes for him the best aim. It is quite clear that any one teacher could find in this ninth chapter of Matthew at least four or five worthy aims. Three different teachers could possibly find as many more, each equally worthy of development. All other things being equal, that aim is best which most completely and forcefully covers the chapter or passage in question. To illustrate: Suppose we are asked to teach a lesson on the Prodigal Son. One aim that could be chosen clearly is that of jealousy on the part of the prodigal's brother. A second one might be repentance, as typified in the action of the prodigal. Still a third might be the compassion and forgiveness of the father, as typical of those same qualities in our heavenly Father. Which, to you, is the most forceful and significant? That one to you is your best aim.

The wording of the aim is a matter that gives rise to a good bit of disagreement. There are those who maintain that if the aim announces the subject as a sort of heading that is sufficient. Others contend that the aim should crystallize into axiomatic form the thought of the lesson. Of course, the real force of the aim lies in its serving as the focus of thought. The wording of it is of secondary importance. And yet it is very excellent practice to reduce to formal statement the truth to be presented. It is helpful to adopt the ruling that the aim should express both a cause and a result. Perhaps an illustration would indicate the difference between the aim stated as a mere heading, and stated fully and formally. Take the case of the daughter of Jairus already referred to,

Mere Headings: Daughter of Jairus restored, or The power of faith. Formal Aim: Implicit faith in God wins His choicest blessings.

Surely the latter is a more significant expression and offers better training to the teacher than the setting down of mere headings.

The ability thus to crystallize out of a great variety of facts a single focusing statement, coupled with the ability then to build about that statement a clearly organized amplification, is the sign of a real teacher. Instead of generalizing further, let us turn to the questions on this lesson where some laboratory exercises are set down calling for actual practice in the selection and justification of a number of aims.

Questions and Suggestions—Chapter XVII

1. What is an aim?

2. Why is it particularly essential to good religious teaching?

3. What are the objections to "eleventh-hour" preparation?

4. To what extent is a teacher handicapped in deciding upon an aim for another teacher to follow?

5. Turn to the following references and determine what possible aims might be developed under each. Is any aim adequate for the whole reference? In each case which do you consider your best aim? Why? How much of the reference would you include in a single lesson?