No Bad Tree--A Morning Prayer Reflection

When I was a senior in college, I lived down the hall from my friend, Sarah.  Right before exams, Sarah would hang a white board on her dorm room door with a note for passersby that said if they needed prayer, to write their name on the board.

That board was always filled.

Sarah was the first person I met who prayed for others as if it were her job, her vocation.  She believed in prayer.  She believed in prayer for others.  It wasn’t something she did out of habit, not something she did out of desperation.  She prayed for others because she legitimately believed in the power of prayer.

Because of Sarah, I have my own white board prayer list.

Mine isn’t hanging on my front door, though, it’s hanging on my refrigerator.

When I tell people that I’ve hung my prayer list on the refrigerator, I make sure to add, “So, if you’re on the list, you should know you get prayed for a lot.”

Even though my prayer list is on a white board, I only use permanent marker.  Once you go on my list, you don’t come off, ever.

Over the years now, I’ve divided the board into quadrants, my family, my church family, my work family, people those people have asked me to pray for.  Sometimes I have spots for whole families and their friends.  I actually know so many Judys, I have a whole section of the board devoted to just people named Judy. 

In the middle of the board, though, are four names that are quite special to me.  They are the first four people I pledged to pray for, for life.  They are four former students and it’s quite possible that for at least three of them, I am the only one in the world who has ever prayed for them.

One of those students, I’ll call her Sam, was a well-known troublemaker.  When I saw her name on my class roster before the start of the school year, I let out a long sigh.  Sam was in the dean’s office a lot.  She was loud and confrontational.  She was a bully and about as surly as they come.  I knew she would challenge me on day one and I knew I had to be prepared for that.

Fortunately, I had been teaching long enough by the time Sam appeared on my roster that I had my day one routine perfected.  Unlike other teachers, I didn’t prepare any get-to-know-you games.  These kids had all grown up together.  They knew each other.  And I had plenty of time to get to know them. 

Instead, knowing how important structure and routine are to eighth graders, I threw them right into the deep end of the pool so to speak.  I took ten minutes to explain to them the basics—this is where you can find today’s assignment, this is where you turn in your work, these are the books I expect you to read when you’re finished with your work, and no talking … ever.  And then we started our first assignment.

I remember everything went very smoothly that day.  Sam wasn’t the only one in the class with a reputation for causing trouble, but everyone held it together that day.  They turned in their work and when they were all finished and silently reading at their desks, I began scanning the stories I had them write.

These were not the traditional “what did you do this summer” stories.  No, I wanted my students to be more creative than that.  Creativity, experimentation, voice, all these things were going to be important for the whole year to get them ready for the FCAT Writes test in the spring.

So, I had them write a story based on one of a series of pictures from the book, “The Mysteries of Harris Burdick.”

As I read through the stories that day, I was mostly checking to see who had followed directions and who hadn’t, who had put some effort in and who was already being lazy on the first day.  I was also looking for sparks, evidence that someone already had that creative nature in them, already had that joy to write.

I was pleasantly surprised to see that Sam was one of these students.

Her story was good.

Given how often Sam had been in trouble in her other classes for passing notes, it shouldn’t have been a surprise that she was a prolific writer, but I was surprised at the creativity, at the effort she put in.

I called her over to my desk.  Of course, she immediately thought she was in trouble.  I could see her stiffen and straighten up, already on the defensive.  That was what life had taught her in her short fourteen years.  When someone says my name, it means something bad.

“This is good,” I told her, pointing to her story.  “This is really good.  You have a talent.  I can’t wait to read more of what you write this year.”

I meant every word of what I said.  Kids are very good at reading adults and whether they’re genuine or not.  And Sam knew I was being completely honest with her.

Over the course of the year, I would learn a lot about Sam, how many times she had been shuffled and shoved off between family members and friends of family, how she had learned to believe that constant rejection was a part of life.  She was in and out of the dean’s office a lot again that year, but I never had one problem with her. 

In today’s gospel reading from Luke, we hear Jesus say these words, “No good tree bears bad fruit, nor again does a bad tree bear good fruit.”

It is my belief, not just from teaching, but from observing the world as a whole, that so many problems exist today because so many people have been told, like Sam was told, that they are bad trees.  So many people have been taught and told over the years that they are only capable of producing bad fruit.

Preparing students for standardized tests will always be secondary to a teacher, because every teacher must work first to teach every student that they are capable of good things, that they have a good heart, that they are loved, that they are treasured, that they can make something beautiful in this world.

It’s not an easy task.

But with God, of course, all things are possible.

Listen again, to the words from the psalm for today, Psalm 52:8, “But I am like a green olive tree in the house of God.  I trust in the steadfast love of God forever and ever.”

I am like a green olive tree.

I am alive.  I am healthy.   I am worthy.  I am capable of making good things.

And most importantly, I am loved.

I am loved by God.

God is only capable of producing good things.  He created you.  You are good.  Remember that.

Amen.