Testimony tips

Man, do I love the Book of Mormon.

I have for some time. It is a key element of my testimony of the restored gospel and my understanding of my relationship to my Father in Heaven and to my Redeemer.

As I contemplate teaching seminary this year, I’ve been preparing lessons in advance of our actual start of classes next week. (My goal is to have four weeks of lessons “in the can” – if I can get two and a half more lessons done this weekend, I’ll meet that goal; then I can figure out how to continue to prepare lessons in advance while reviewing lessons just prior to giving them. I feel like I’m on a bit of a tightrope at this point.)

As I’ve reviewed the vision of the Tree of Life, I realize that in a few chapters, we get the basics three times. On my mission, I heard Elder Theodore M. Burton teach us that we should pay attention when the Lord repeats himself in the scriptures, and here I find in the first 15 chapters of the Book of Mormon, three recitations of the Tree of Life vision. (Oh, and repetitions of the vision of the Savior’s role as Redeemer, too!)

It occurs to me that there are plenty of repeat messages in 1 Nephi. Not only do we learn of those visions and of the Savior’s role in God’s plan (and our eternal happiness), but we also have repeated models of how to gain a testimony, or at least of how Nephi gained his. We’re reminded more than once of the value of approaching gospel learning with an open mind and an open heart – a desire to believe. We’re reminded of the Lord’s willingness to answer our prayers (and His disappointment when we believe He won’t answer us). And we’re reminded of the consistency of His message to prophets. Some details might shift slightly (like Nephi’s noticing the filthiness of water that Lehi didn’t pick up), but major story arcs (like the importance of the fruit of the tree) do not change.

As I think about my role as a seminary teacher, I understand that I’m there to open the scriptures to my students and to invite them to feel the spirit as they discover what the scriptures teach about the Savior. I need to get out of the way and allow the scriptures and the spirit to do the teaching and converting. I need to invite, encourage, entice.

The stakes are high for seminary teachers. Lots of studies show that seminary teachers have the opportunity to have significant influence on our youth, and it’s no surprise. Seminary teachers get 50 minutes a day, five days a week, with regular attenders. It would be easy to use that time as a platform to promote my views, or even to set myself up as some great guy. But the last thing I need is to generate a group of Paul-ites. Hopefully what I can do is to offer my students a place where they can safely explore spiritual questions and seek spiritual answers. Hopefully I can help them to feel safe enough to trust what the spirit whispers to their minds and hearts.

In our recent seminary fireside, I mentioned to the students and their parents that as seminary teachers we can offer activities. We can entertain them. We can review scripture mastery verses and play games. But they need to actually read the book. They need to seek the testimony. And if they’re willing to do that, the rewards can be great.

I don’t think I’ll spend my whole year blogging about seminary. But I might share a little from time to time. In the meantime, I extend the same invitation to you: if you read the book, if you open your heart and your mind, if you ask, the Lord can provide you the same great blessings He promises my seminary students.

A flood of seminary

I am returning to teach seminary again in the fall.  (I’d posted before that I was helping the final quarter of last year’s class.)  I’ve got to say that I’m very excited and quite overwhelmed.

Seminary is a little like Scouting.  You could spend your entire life training!  (Those of you who have served in Scouting know that the BSA has an awesome ability to train, train, train!  And the training is quite good and valuable, but it is time consuming!)  Seminary is no different.  In addition to the inservice meetings (we had our big summer meeting already) there are monthly inservice meetings.  And there are online resources.  And there are a jazillion websites where other seminary teachers have posted their terrific ideas.

It’s easy to get overwhelmed.

And I’m there.

As I’ve been preparing to teach this fall, a few thoughts have resonated with me:

First, a reminder from the CES administrator who was responsible for me the first time I taught seminary nearly 30 years ago.  He taught us regularly that we teach the scriptures.  We do not teach from the scriptures or about the scriptures, but we teach the scriptures.  That’s good news for me since I love the scriptures.

The latest counsel from CES is very similar:  “We teach students the doctrines and principles of the gospel as found in the scriptures and the words of the prophets” (Gospel Teaching and Learning, p. x).

Second, I love the Book of Mormon.  That’s our text this year, and I couldn’t be more excited.  The Book of Mormon practically teaches itself.  It has been such an influential book in my own conversion to Jesus Christ and His gospel, and I yearn to share that with my students. 

At a recent family reunion there were several of us who either have recently or will soon teach seminary, we talked about logistics and planning, lesson preparation, scripture study, making connections, teaching doctrines, leading discussions.  It was awesome to think about this great work of helping our youth to understand and rely on the Atonement of Jesus Christ and to prepare to return home one day.

My own seminary experience was spotty.  I began with early morning seminary, but demographics and travel patterns in my ward made it so that we moved to home study seminary in my second year.  I stayed diligent in home study for two and a half years, but fizzled out at the end and never finished.  I regret that I could not continue attending an early morning class, as I really enjoyed it.  I regret that I did not have the discipline to finish home study (despite the heroic efforts of my teacher who gave me every possible chance to catch up).

When I was bishop speaking at those beginning of the school year seminary firesides, I would tell the youth I fell in love with my wife because she was a seminary graduate.  That’s probably not the only reason, but my wife’s commitment to the gospel was surely influenced by her participation in seminary, and her faith was certainly attractive to me.

As I spend the rest of the summer cramming scripture study, scripture masteries, lesson plans and teacher training all into my very human brain, I will rely on the Lord to guide my efforts and qualify me for the work He’s called me to do.

Coming back to seminary

I’m teaching seminary again.

I’ve been asked to assist in our ward’s early morning seminary class. We have an awesome teacher who has been at it for six years, and she is terrific. But in her six years, she’s learned that the last quarter of the year is tough – tough for the students and tough for her. Everyone has been at it for a long time, and by the fourth quarter, it’s just that much tougher to keep getting up day after day.

So to mix things up for the students, our teacher invites other ward members to come in and teach from time to time. And she’s asked for a helper: me.

I taught home study seminary nearly 30 years ago while I was in grad school, and I’ve substituted in seminary from time to time during the nineteen years I’ve had kids in seminary. I also taught a couple of years of a YSA institute class in my stake.

Now I’m going to early morning seminary twice a week, which is a challenge for me waking-up-wise. I’m preparing more lessons, and I’m reading scriptures with more purpose. And it’s a blast!

We have a pretty big group in our class – over 20 kids attend most days – and they are well mannered and as attentive as a bunch of sleepy high schoolers will be. Our regular teacher has lots of tricks to keep them awake – make them move, make they speak, make them draw, make them read. I get to learn a lot from watching her.

We’re studying the epistles in the New Testament – not the lightest reading of the scriptures, but not Isaiah, either. It’s challenging that there are fewer story-based lessons, but it’s fun to dig into some of the dichotomies that Paul presents (grace and the law, for instance) and to see how those differ from one epistle to another.

I carry the mantra that I heard repeatedly when I taught back in the 1980s – we teach the scriptures; we do not teach about the scriptures. The New Testament is our primary text, not student or teacher manuals, not commentaries, not cute online resources. Of course we’ll use those other resources to support our teaching, but in the end, it’s all about the scriptures.

And it’s a blast.

Things I avoid when I teach

I’ve written couple of posts on gospel teaching (for instance, here, here and here). It’s a subject I care a lot about and have for many years. Just before my mission (I think the telephone had been invented by then – and by telephone I mean the one that was connected to a wall…) I took the teacher improvement course and I really enjoyed it.

Early in my marriage, I served as a Sunday School president. I approached my calling very seriously (even though by then SS presidents were about as useful as the human appendix) and my counselors and I worked hard to try to improve teaching in our ward. I’ve really enjoyed teaching over the years, and have taught in Sunday School, Primary, Young Men’s and in my Melchizedek PH quorums. I even taught one Relief Society lesson when I was a bishop. (Ok, it wasn’t a whole lesson, but I was in the room and I got to teach!) I’ve never taught in Young Women’s, but I have taught Young Women in seminary and in youth firesides. And I’ve taught institute, as well.

I don’t know that I’m a great teacher, but I guess I’m entertaining enough. People seem to respond to my lessons enough that I keep getting asked to teach.

Here are a couple of things I try to avoid when teaching. When I’ve seen these things in other classes (or when I’ve realized I’ve been doing it in my teaching), I’m kind of turned off, and I figure other students are, too. This is my short list. Maybe you have others, and you’d like to share them in the comments:

1. Play “Guess what the teacher’s thinking.” Remember in Junior High (ok, I’m so old that we didn’t have the trendy “Middle School”) when a teacher would ask a question, you’d summon the courage to answer in front of your peers with a completely logical and reasonable answer and she’d say, “Well, that’s not what I’m looking for; anyone else?” It made you feel silly, didn’t it? (Well it made me feel silly, anyway.) The point of questions in a church class is not to test knowledge, but to foster discussion. Even if an answer is a bit off the beam of a teacher’s message, the teacher can walk back to his central theme and still acknowledge and accept the discussion as it comes.

2. Ask yes-and-no questions. See #1. If the point of questions is to foster discussion, how does a yes / no question do that? Furthermore, do we really expect anyone to say “No, we don’t believe in the Godhead?” I agree that a careful series of yes or no questions may work as a rhetorical device from time to time, but as a general rule, these are the wrong kinds of questions to ask.

3. Be Nephi (or any other scripture character). Avoiding this is a newer innovation for me in my teaching. In fact, I used to assume roles all the time. I used to say things like, “I can imagine what Nephi was thinking – here he was tied up on a ship which is about to go under the sea and his brothers are dancing and having a great time…” The thing is, I don’t know what Nephi was thinking. There are surely some who might have said of me, “I know Nephi. Nephi is a friend of mine. You’re no Nephi.” This issue came home to me a few years ago as I sat in a class taught by another entertaining gospel doctrine teacher who did the same thing. Except I thought to myself, “Nephi didn’t think that. He never said that.” And I realized that although I can liken the scriptures unto myself, I ought not liken myself unto the characters of the scriptures. I ought to let them speak for themselves.

4. Run overtime. There is nothing I have that will be more important to all the members of my class than getting out on time. If they can hear the bell or see a clock, they will worry about whatever they have to do next more than whatever fabulous ending I have planned for my lesson. Therefore, I need to plan to start my “big finish” (if I have one) early enough to be done at the end of class. (That said, it was entertainingly ironic a few weeks ago as our substitute gospel doctrine teacher ran five minutes over while discussing looking past the mark. As it happens, he had misunderstood what time class was supposed to end.)

Well, that’s my short list. I’m happy to have you add your thoughts to the list.

Ok, it was a bad idea...

I blogged last week about e-scriptures and their use in classes. I was so motivated by a post at Middle-Aged Mormon Man (who has a WAY bigger readership than mine). In my post, I spoke in favor of e-scriptures (mine are on a Kindle Fire, and I love them that way, thanks, very much). And I wrote about the kids in the Sunday School class where I sometimes substitute (including last Sunday).

And here’s the dumb idea:

I’ve actually had an idea while writing this post that I’ll try when I substitute next Sunday. I think I’ll put a table in the room where we have class, and ask all the student to put their scriptures (electronic and otherwise) flat on the table in front of them. That way I’ll be able to see whether they are staying in the scriptures or not. Of course, whether their minds are in their scriptures or not is another matter, and I won’t be able to see that…

What I did was I finally let sink in what MMM was saying in his post, and I stopped by the library and picked up a few paper copies of the Book of Mormon. In class, I announced that it would an e-free day for students (I still taught from my Kindle, because that’s what I was prepared to do, and I just had this idea on the way to class, and I was not at all troubled by the double standard for students and teacher, and neither were they.)

So everyone but me used paper scriptures. No one texted during class. No one surfed the web. And no one really cared. (In fact, one student – my son’s best friend -- observed that if I was trying to get the class to be quieter, I wouldn’t be able to tell because there were too many independent variables – not only had I outlawed e-devices, but my son was not there, so this young man wouldn’t be chatting with him during the whole lesson. Fair enough, I said. I wasn’t trying to reduce chatter, just get people to use their paper scriptures.)

There was little difference in the discussion. All the kids participated just as they had before – some more willingly than others. All read. All laughed at my corny jokes (my son was absent, remember?).

But I was glad not to have their attention divided between me, their friends, their other extraneous thoughts AND their e-devices. At least one distraction was eliminated.

I should, in fairness, point out that as I told my very supportive daughter about my lesson, she asked with just a tint of saracasm in her voice, "So, did you drag a table in for them to put their devices on?" Even she knew it was a bad idea...

How I teach (correlated or non-)

Here are some principles I use when I teach. I think that I’m a fair teacher (so people tell me), and I think most who attend my lessons would believe I’m in line with the correlated lessons:

1. The lesson manual is not scripture – while our lesson materials may be inspired, they aren’t scripture, and they do not deserve to be revered as such. Scripture is scripture. The lesson manual is a guide for me, and often helps me sort out the direction for a particular lesson. Sometimes the manual has stories or explanations that are useful for the lesson I teach, and I use them. But I do not assume that because it’s in the manual, I need to say it. [1]

2. We really teach scripture, not lessons. The text of the scripture is more important to me in my lessons than the manual. This principle was drilled into me by my CES coordinator when I taught seminary years ago. He urged us to rely on the scripture, particularly when teaching the Book of Mormon. I will study a scripture block multiple times (three, four, five?) while preparing to teach it. I’ll look up cross references, including my own. I’ll ask myself questions about the passages that I might not in my normal personal reading. And I’ll try to find answers to those questions as I prepare.

3. As a teacher, I’m entitled to inspiration if I am prayerful and if I listen. That can allow me to tailor a lesson to a particular class. (When I taught the Isaiah chapters in Second Nephi this past week to my son’s class of 15-year olds, I assume it was a very different lesson than the one they had in the “adult” class – at least I hope so!)

4. Regardless of what I teach, I tend to teach from my experience: what I’ve read, seen, heard, and felt as I’ve studied the scriptures. I’ve been around for a few decades, and we’ve lived in a lot of places, so I tend to have some stories to tell, and I tell them freely.

5. I’m happy to include commentary from other church sources as it occurs to me. For this week’s lesson on Isaiah, I consulted my old Institute manuals on the Old Testament to remind myself of the kings around during Isaiah’s ministry, for instance. I don’t exclude anything from my preparation phase of the lesson. That said, I’m not an Old Testament scholar. I don’t read every FAIR or FARMS article. And I don’t feel a need to in order to teach a Sunday School lesson.

6. I tend to over-prepare. I have (especially when I’m teaching youth) one or two things that I know I want to hit, and then lots else in reserve in case we have time to fill. When teaching adults, I do a similar thing, but I’m less strict about the one or two message idea. (With adults, I tend to offer a few things, figuring different class members may latch on to one or another.) I try to think about questions, discussion, ideas, scripture blocks, stories that will reinforce my main themes.

7. When I teach, I use notes to guide me, but use the manual very sparingly (and then only if there’s a quotation to read). (In priesthood I use the manual more because I do want to quote the words of the prophet we’re studying, but again for selected quotations, not for front-to-back reading.) What actually comes out of my mouth usually follows the outline I have, but I watch the clock carefully to be sure I have time to end on my terms, and I adjust in the middle as necessary, sometimes leaving out entire sections of the lesson. I try NEVER to run over. Period.

8. It’s not unusual for me to go “off script” in a classroom discussion with a story or personal experience. When I do this, I try to be deliberate, listening for promptings that it’s right to do it. My goal is to have whatever happens point to my one or two (or more) key points in the lesson.

9. I like to be in the scriptures. We try to read as much scripture as seems comfortable for the group. I’m not interested in reading the whole class period, but I want to teach the scriptures, not just teach about them. When I tell a story from the scriptures, I like to mix paraphrase and quoting, being clear where I quote. If I ask someone to read a longer block of scriptures, I’ll often interrupt to make a point or two along the way.

10. As much as I like to hear myself talk, I know not everyone (anyone?) shares my enthusiasm. So I try to foster class participation, either by inviting others to read or to comment / discuss. But I am also not particularly interested in discussion for discussion’s sake. I’d like to be sure the discussion is moving in a helpful direction, and I will try gently to move it that way if needed. If I’m really successful, I’ll find myself referring to class members’ comments later in the lesson while summarizing or making a point.

What works for you when teaching? What do the best teachers you know do?

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[1] The Teachings of the Prophets manuals present a bit of a conundrum in this regard. They are mostly the words of the prophets and therefore deserve extra attention. I do try to quote from them liberally when teaching from them. The same is true for Teaching For Our Times lessons based on conference talks. In the case of both of these, I do not believe it’s appropriate to teach a lesson on the “theme” of the assigned lesson and ignore the prophet’s words.

What I taught about GAS...and how nobody died

Last Sunday I taught Lesson One from the new Teachings of the Prophet manual. As I was preparing for the lesson, I determined to use parts of the overview of President Smith’s life included in the manual, since I assumed many of the high priests in our group are like me and don’t know a whole lot about President Smith. Furthermore, there’s plenty from the historical sketch that illustrates that President Smith practiced what he preached in Lesson One, namely living the gospel instead of being a member in name only.

I was also aware of some research about President Smith’s life that was not included in the biographical material. During the week of my preparation, J. Stapely over at By Common Consent provided more detail in that regard by linking an outstanding article in the Journal of Mormon History (J.’s post at BCC is here; the article is here, starting on page 120). In that article, BYU Rel. Ed. Professor Mary Jane Woodger presents compelling evidence from President Smith’s own journals that in addition to whatever physical maladies he may have had, President Smith also likely suffered from depression and anxiety disorders.

Prior to reading the article in JMH, I had decided not to mention what I’d heard about President Smith’s mental illness, but after reading the article, I felt like I should include it in my lesson. I can't say for sure I was inspired to do so, but I certainly could have been, and maybe I was. Of course, then I wondered about the balance of introducing material from outside the manual in my teaching compared with whatever benefit might accrue from sharing the information. I'm aware of the counsel to use the manuals and official sources in our lessons. And I'm also aware that the teacher, in the end, is the one called to teach.


Let’s be clear: the lesson I taught was from the manual. We read and discussed scriptures. We read passages of President Smith’s words. We illustrated them with examples from his life which were included in Lesson One and in the historical introduction in the manual. I did not teach a lesson on mental illness; I did not advocate for the rights of the mentally ill; I did not offer diagnostic or treatment recommendations (nor could I; I’m not qualified to do so).

What I did, however, is I pointed out, as J. did in his post, that there is considerable evidence from President Smith’s own journals that he likely suffered from depression and anxiety issues, and that those were likely a large part of his reason for his recuperative period mentioned in the historical overview. I also observed that it was unlikely that there would be any contemporary (to President Smith) diagnosis since the study of mental health at the turn of the 20th century was insufficiently developed to offer such a diagnosis. I added that perhaps this knowledge might comfort some who either wrestle with mental illness themselves or who have family members or close friends who do. I suggested that there is value in understanding that any illness need not be taken as an indictment of our worthiness or fitness for service to the Lord, as evidenced by the fact that President Smith served significantly and faithfully despite his illnesses, whatever they were. (We pointed out that he was not alone in serving while suffering with health challenges.)

There was, frankly, no discussion of the point. A few heads nodded. No one wondered why I had introduced this information that was not part of the manual (I identified it as such, by the way, since I suspect a fair number of our group would not have read the historical summary). (Oh, and no one died.) I think I was completely consistent with the instruction given to teachers at the end of Lesson One:

To help us teach from the scriptures and the words of latter-day prophets, the Church has produced lesson manuals and other materials. There is little need for commentaries or other reference material (quoted from Teaching, No Greater Call: A Resource Guide for Gospel Teaching [1999], 52).

It would have been interesting to go into more detail about his illness, but that was not the purpose of our lesson. The lesson was to talk about how we can live the gospel and not be members in name only, and I was happy to have ample material to illustrate that President Smith was a great example of that principle that he taught.

Teaching truth (to our kids)

I had a conversation with a reader on another blog post a couple of weeks ago. He asked about my thoughts on how to prepare our kids for “surprises” in church history. His question caused me to think about how I teach my kids the gospel and how I teach others (for instance now I teach occasionally in the High Priests group, and I share teaching of the Gospel Essentials class; in the past I’ve taught seminary and institute).

When it comes to exposing students (or our kids) to apparent inconsistencies in church history, here are some thoughts:

1. The setting matters. I would deal with this completely differently in an institute class or a High Priests group (where I’m more likely to be open) than in a Gospel Essentials class (where my charge is to teach basic doctrines). That said, I still accept the mandate to “teach from the manual” so I’m not interested in declaring whatever arcane historical things I’ve learned at the expense of the scheduled lesson. (I’ve blogged before about what teaching from the manual means to me, so I won’t belabor that point here.)

2. Age matters. I think whatever we teach our kids, we need to be aware of where they are. Just as the facts-of-life talk can be age appropriate, so can other issues, and I think church history issues are like that.

3. We don't have to know everything. I have had unanswered questions over time. And I think it's ok to admit to our kids or our students that we don't have every answer, and that we are looking. It's especially valuable if we can demonstrate that we have resolved some issues, but have other unresolved ones, suggesting that issue resolution takes time.

3. Encourage questions. I really believe that it's ok to ask questions. But it's also good to wait for answers, and to seek them in reliable places. (I acknowledge that one man's reliable may be another's biased source...)

4. Remember what you know. It's good for us, our students and our kids to remember the things we do know (or feel, or have faith in). For me, the sweet spirit of the temple is what helped me to hang on as I tried to resolve open issues about Joseph Smith, for instance. When we keep moving forward without complete knowledge, I think that's walking by faith, and it's ok.

5. The more we know the more we know what we don't know. Elder Theodore Burton taught me this principle on my mission years ago. As our testimony grows, the border between what we know and what we don't know also grows. And that's ok.

Some of my kids had no interest in talking about these things with me. Carlfred Broderick observed that these issues just don't matter to everyone, and that's ok. I have other family members for whom history issues were highly significant. Not every student will respond the same way, and for that reason, I think we need to be prudent in how we proceed as teachers.

For me, my period of discovery of church history matters began after high school. Having supportive and positive (but not dictatory) voices was helpful to me as I found my own way through it.

More intructions for teachers

Russell T. Osguthorpe, General Sunday School president of the LDS Church, in a recent interview in the Church News talked about teaching and confirmed what I've been doing for years: Study the lesson, pray for inspiration, and teach by the spirit. What a concept! (This post is a follow up to an earlier post on this blog.)

There's been a fair amount of discussion recently about reminders regarding teaching in the church. I've reasoned for some time that "teaching from the manual" does not mean "ready, aim, read", but gives a teacher a lot of latitude in how to prepare and teach a lesson.

Like most people, I'm not wild about going into a class and having the class read together the entire lesson manual. That's not teaching, that's reading. Now I'm not the first to recognize that not all teachers are created equal, and for some, reading is the best we're going to get. And I'll try to be supportive and sustain those teachers, too, when I'm in their classes. But I much prefer someone who has carefully prepared a lesson around what the manual has to offer: studied the scriptures, read the manual, researched other pertinent talks or articles from church magazines, and perhaps, if it's appropriate, even included certain historical details and other commentary.

Brother Osguthorpe's recommendations allow for significant variance between a class of experienced adults and, say, young teenagers. And I say hooray, because I hope no one is trying to teach my 13 year old son the same way I'm being taught. (One of us is likely to be really bored, otherwise.)

And he allows for class discussion. To me, class discussion is discussion around the topic of the lesson, not hi-jacking the lesson time with a pet gospel question or issue. But discussion may reveal parts of the day's subject matter that require deeper examination, and a good teacher could agree to come back to those another week. The example he cites in his article is a class in which the teacher referred to her manual sparingly, and led a discussion consistent with the lesson, and who, at the end of the lesson, thanks the class for teaching one another.

I hope teachers will take Brother Osguthorpe's comments to heart and prepare well to teach in a manner that suits their class members and tailor lessons to their audiences. In fact, his whole focus is on improving teaching in the church and how that can be done. And I say, hooray! If we do improve teaching, our classes can be rich and rewarding discussions.

I will observe that I've been visiting a ward while traveling on business this past month. One of our teachers in particular did a super job of what Brother Osguthorpe recommends – preparing well and leading a discussion around the material. Class members were readily engaged, doctrine was taught and clarified, some questions were put off until later, and a red herring or two were thrown out in the discussion, but generally the class kept itself to the subjects at hand and was well taught. It was a pleasure to be in such a class.

I hope I can do as well the next time I teach (which will be in my Gospel Principles class this Sunday – yikes!).

- Paul

What Shall We Teach?

Two decades ago I had the chance to teach seminary for a couple of years. We had regular in-service meetings in our stake, and our CES representative regularly reminded us that in seminary we taught the scriptures. We did not teach about the scriptures. We did not teach scripture stories. We taught the scriptures.

There's been some discussion across the blogs recently about renewed call by the church to have teachers stick to the lesson manuals – everything from a talk in General Conference to an editorial in the Church News. My favorite blog comment came from The Narrow Gate.

Frankly, I don't get the hullabaloo. (How many times to you get to use that word?) I've been teaching in the church for many years. I started teaching in Primary before my mission over 30 years ago. And my teaching has always been a blend of manual / scripture / personal stories / related materials approach. And I see no need to change that given the latest invitation from the brethren to stick to the basics when we teach.

I remember when I was called as a Gospel Doctrine teacher in our ward in Hiroshima, Japan years ago. It was a Japanese language ward, but there were half a dozen or so of us who attended an English language class. Our subject was the Book of Mormon, and the first week I prepared three different lessons – well, one lesson, but with three different focuses – and I asked the class which one they'd like. The choices were history, literature, or doctrine.

The class kind of stared at me, not sure what to make of this new teacher. One fellow (who was visiting at the time, but later moved into the ward and became a great friend) finally said in a voice suggesting there was only one answer, "Doctrine." In fact, all three themes had been touched on in the lesson manual, but there was no time to do everything in the class time, so we had to pick.

Later in that same ward, the bishop asked me to teach everyone in Gospel Doctrine together, in both Japanese and English. (His wife translated for me into Japanese.) That meant I had only half the time to teach (since half was taken in translation). It really made me work hard to pare down what we would discuss in the class, and it also encouraged class members to prepare ahead of time since we could not "cover" the whole lesson.

My point is that lesson-manual lessons provide (for me) a great deal of latitude in their preparation and presentation. I've rarely had a problem augmenting my lessons with quotations from general conference talks or personal stories or related scriptures. I enjoy lessons that provide historical context, and I enjoy great discussions in classes. But in the end, I don't go to church to be entertained. I go for spiritual food. And I find that my ability to find it is far more dependent on how I attend rather than how the teachers teach.

That said, I prefer a well taught lesson. My personal non-favorites:

- Reading the lesson from front to back. This seems to be common in my High Priest group these days, and I'm glad when we have an instructor who breaks from that mold.

- A teacher who assumes the person in the scriptures is just like him ("If I were Nephi, I would…."). I get the need to liken the scriptures and all that, but I'm not sure a 21st century teacher can speak for Nephi, especially when Nephi has pretty eloquently spoken for himself.

- A teacher who doesn't connect the dots between the verses of scriptures read in class, but simply has the verses read and then moves on; it just seems like this teacher is going through the motions.

- The teacher who doesn't pay attention to comments, but has already moved in his head to the next idea in his lesson; again, it seems the teacher has a destination he's driving to and we're going to there no matter what.

- The teacher who abandons the lesson and teaches whatever he feels like; I feel cheated, especially if I happened to have prepared for the lesson that day (which doesn't always happen).

I've attended lessons in lots of places with lots of teachers and teaching styles, and here are some things I have learned:

- I can determine what I'll get out of a lesson by what I put in it, regardless of what the teacher does. I can complain to myself (or to my wife after the lesson), but if I do, I'm pretty sure I'll not get much; alternatively I can listen and make my own connections even if the teacher doesn't, and I can come away fed.

- Most teachers are pretty good hearted. Even nervous teachers want to do a good job. My wife is a very nervous teacher; frankly she'd rather almost do anything than teach a group of adults, and yet she's called over and over again to teach, and people love her lessons. I think it's because she approaches her lessons prayerfully and humbly; she prepares carefully, but she doesn't try to be the smartest person in the room, and she willingly accepts the help of her class members and of the Spirit.



In the end, we all teach, whether in a classroom or in our homes or by our example. May we teach truth.



- Paul