"To be known as someone who simply wants to live with them."

Well, off I go. Saturday we leave on our trip to the other side of the world with much expectation that God is going to show Himself in some life-changing and surprising way.

I've agonized over my presentation on culture learning, trying to chose what content is appropriate for a one-hour presentation to this particular audience, wondering what might result... dismissal? disinterest? engagement? input? invitations to travel the world and teach? or just a "we'll take it from here"? I really don't know what to expect or what to hope for. And I have been quite anxious about this and other aspects of our journey.

If you are a person who prays, think of me at 4pm Jan 14. Or 12-15 hours before that, if you live in the US, to account for the time difference.  I could use your prayers for this presentation / discussion.

Here's a video I hope to use to open it up. Of course I can't be sure technology will cooperate. This video can't be downloaded, evidently, and I hate to rely too much on internet access in a conference setting, in a different country, and on someone else's laptop. So I may just read the quote.

Still, I can share it with you here:

“More and more, the desire grows in me simply to walk around, greet people, enter their homes, sit on their doorsteps, play ball, throw water, and be known as someone who wants to live with them. It is a privilege to have the time to practice this simple ministry of presence.

"Still, it is not as simple as it seems. My own desire to be useful, to do something significant, or to be part of some impressive project is so strong that soon my time is taken up by meetings, conferences, study groups, and workshops that prevent me from walking the streets. It is difficult not to have plans, not to organize people around an urgent cause, and not to feel that you are working directly for social progress.

"But I wonder more and more if the first thing shouldn’t be to know people by name, to eat and drink with them, to listen to their stories and tell your own, and to let them know with words, handshakes, and hugs that you do not simply like them, but truly love them.”  

Teaching in a Time of Terror

#Egypt lights the pyramids to show solidarity
with the people of #Lebanon, #France and #Russia
(Seen in The Guardian)

Just wrapped up my last round of 2015 public speaking, admittedly with some trepidation in light of the events unfolding in Paris as my travels began Friday evening.

A major terrorist attack. Another one!

But this one struck a stronger chord than usual with the American media and the public. It set off eddies of Americans talking about how they felt about the media coverage and media coverage about how Americans felt about the media coverage, and so on, until many news sources seem full of conspiracy theories and hawkish reactions. Mine were full of denouncements of those conspiracy theories and somewhat ridiculous statements about pursuing peace and unity (many, ironically, by calling for people to be more upset about more things, though others seemed mostly upset that people were upset and wanted everyone to just calm down). Seemed everybody was commenting on everything else until I dare not say or support anything at all, not with so many people so touchy.

Next on my plate is editing and publishing a set of Missions Catalyst News Briefs, and that will be delicate too, but there at least there's some time to pick and choose words and carefully frame them. Whereas getting up in front of these three Michigan Perspectives classes and talking about Muslims, immigrants and refugees, and understanding people from different cultures and religions, well, that seemed a bit fraught with peril. I didn't want to make things worse or add to what seems, to be, a growing cacophony of emotion and opinion.

One thing I folded in which I hope people found helpful was a discussion of essentialism and nominalism. Picked this up from the class I took a few years ago on contemporary issues in Islam.

Author Matthew Stone asks: what do we think of as being "really real," Islam, the Arab culture, and "the Muslim mind," and similar theories, ideals, and abstractions? Or are such things merely labels and models, simplified maps that may or may not accurately reflect the nuances of the religion, culture, or mindset of the specific community or individual in front of us, and guide us where we want to go? "Essentialism" focuses on the abstraction, while "nominalism" is more concerned with the specific or individual, what people have to say for themselves, not what they are "supposed to" believe or do according to a book or religious leader. Stone warns against what he calls cultural determinism, the idea that people come out of culture and religion factories and can be understood and evaluated according to what we think that factory is supposed to produce.

I think it's an esssentialist argument, for example, that the Qu'ran says (in places) that Christians are the enemy and Islam will triumph in the end, therefore "real" Muslims believe that, therefore "the Muslims" hate Christians and are trying to take over the world. So anyone who says otherwise, e.g., Christians like me or Muslims you actually meet who protest that kind of conclusion vehemently, are lying to you or deceiving themselves. A nominalist point of view can accept that there are Islamists who are trying to take over the world as well as lots of moderates who see things quite differently. Neither one is the "real Muslim," because what's a "real Muslim," anyway?

The making of maps and models gives us tools for communicating and understanding one another, but such tools can only take us so far. We soon find that people are much more diverse and complex. 

See also Models for Ministry (and their limitations).

Women in Missions: William Carey's Praying Sister

It's been many months since my last entry in the series of accounts and reflections on women in missions, but just came across something good I want to share with others who are interested in this kind of thing. This comes from Joni Eareckson Tada. I'll have to do some more digging to find the original source material.

"While he labored in the distant land of India, back in England, William Carey had a sister whom he affectionately called Polly – Polly was bedridden and almost completely paralyzed for 52 years. William wrote to Polly all about the details of his struggle to create primers and dictionaries in the various Indian dialects, as well as the difficulty of figuring out how to get these books typed and printed. And with every letter from William that she received, Polly lifted these needs up before the Throne. Every day for 52 years, she faithfully prayed for her brother.

"Now I don’t have to tell you that really inspired me. There she is Polly for all intents and purposes a quadriplegic, unable to walk or use her hands. But that didn’t paralyze her prayer life. And, oh, were William Carey’s efforts blessed by God – not only was India reached for Christ, but what he did became a model for modern missionaries even to this day… all because a paralyzed woman prayed.

"A lot of people know about the work of William Carey, but not many people know about the sister behind the scenes whose prayers guaranteed the success of his efforts. Polly’s testimony tells me that the life of any Christian can have huge repercussions for the kingdom. Think of it: if God can use bedridden quadriplegics to open doors to the Gospel around the world, what can He do through your prayers?! Little wonder the Bible says, 'Pray without ceasing.' … for God knows what great things are accomplished when people pray."

» Read more.

Teaching on Women in Missions

I need to brush up on this topic in preparation for teaching Perspectives classes this spring. One of the lessons I regularly teach is built around four men who are held us as "pioneers" of new ways of doing mission: William Carey, Hudson Taylor, Cameron Townsend, and Donald McGavran. Since all four men were married (Carey had three wives and Taylor and Townsend each had two), it's a cinch to fold in content about the eight women, and hard to resist adding in a few more women who were a significant part of their ministry teams.

I think it's important not to wave the "girl power" flag too briskly. It's too easy to send out a male-bashing message, and we certainly need more men who are willing to serve in missions even though they long been outnumbered by the women. Yet mission history is still typically written and taught with a focus on men, and the women's stories ought to be told as well.

For anyone who teaches this lesson and wants some ideas, here are a few of the women whose contributions I highlight. I've also blogged about some of them here, it's easy to find more material online, and I'm happy to share my teaching notes.

• William Carey: wives Dorothy, Charlotte, and Grace; teammate Hannah Marshman
• Hudson Taylor: mother Amelia, wives Maria and Jennie, teammate Emily, sister Amelia
• Cameron Townsend: wives Elvira and Elaine, niece Evelyn, the anonymous woman who told him he'd be a coward for going to war and leaving the women to carry out missions, and the teams of single women he sent out like Loretta Anderson and Doris Cox. 
• Others: If there's time I usually fold in stories about Mary Livingstone, Mary Slessor, Ann Judson, Isabel Kuhn, Lottie Moon (and her sister who was a physician in the Middle East), and the women's societies formed to support missionaries and send out single women.

Gossip columnist?

I have on my bookshelf a rather strange volume called The Pop-up Book of Phobias. You flip it open and snakes pop up on one page, spiders on another. There’s the fear of dentists, with a giant drill spinning toward your face. The fear of heights, of course, where you are teetering on the edge of a high-rise building. And the fear of being buried alive, which has you looking up from an open grave with a shovel full of dirt about to come your way. Not something I’ve pondered. Not until I saw this book.

Do you have a phobia? If I do, it might be “The fear of missing out,” sometimes known by its acronym, FOMO. I don’t want to skip a meeting or event or stay home from a party, even, because something important might happen. I try to keep up with what’s going on with people I know, I like being the one to tell someone else about a new resource, or something that’s going on in the life of a friend.

Sometimes I say that if work ever dried up, I could make it as a gossip columnist… but that would be taking it too far, wouldn’t it?

Instead, I’ve been blessed to be able to more or less make my living learning about the world, the struggles and tensions within and between different communities, and things God is doing.

As a writer for a mission organization, a lot of what I do is to curate news, ideas, and resources having to do with world mission, and pass along what I gather to others to stir up prayer or passion or participation in global outreach.

It’s been amazing to discover how God is able to turn my personality quirks into something he can use for the kingdom, and to help accomplish his purposes. And that gives me confidence that he can and may want to do the same for others.

I shared this when I spoke at my home church this last weekend.

At the end of my session, I had the class break into small groups and talk about what it looks like for them—or might look like for them—to be involved in God's work in the world at this stage in their lives.

The best part for me (and for their pastor, sitting half-way back)? It was hearing what they had to share with the group after those conversations. I praise God for what he is doing in and through Wabash Church, and in fact, with his people worldwide.

That, really, is the story I want to tell. It's what I don't want to miss out on!

Three Delusions

"It's been said, sometimes seriously, and yet sometimes tongue in cheek, that the average person suffers from three delusions.

First, that he has a good sense of humor.
Second, that he's a good driver.
And third, that he's a good listener.

"Now I've always thought that it was pretty important to have a good sense of humor in life. I think that makes life go a little bit better. And in our civilization and in our culture, it's very very important that we're good driver.

"But of those three, the only one that's absolutely crucial to spiritual growth is that we be good listeners."

– Scott Wenig, speaking at South Fellowship, April 6, 2014

Love this anecdote and intend to steal it for use in my own teaching!

Taking your cultural "strengths" overseas

In the last two weeks I've visited seven Perspectives classes to teach lessons on mission history. Before my spring "tour" is done I will attend a mission conference in Portland, participate in a week of meetings around a forum for church leaders in Orlando, spend a few days in Southern California, and then, March 31 and April 10, teach two more Perspectives lessons. Those are a culture lesson. In pulling up my notes about crossing cultures I remember how much fun this material is to teach. It's more personal. And much less "sage on the stage." I'll step more fully into the mode of "guide on the side," raising questions and inviting the class to discuss their own experiences and concerns and come to their own conclusions.

I'm also reminded how easy it is to believe that working in a cross-cultural situation is hard because of problems with the other people's culture. But that's not a very helpful conclusion. It's no use going around expecting other people to change on our behalf. Far more effective to acknowledge and examine our expectations and look for ways to adjust them along with our thinking and behavior. Those are the only thing over which we have at least some control.

I like the way Kenyan pastor Oscar Muriu describes these tensions:

Americans have two great things going for them culturally. One is that Americans are problem-solvers. Every time I come to the U.S., I like to spend a couple hours in a Wal-Mart. I find solutions to problems that I never thought of!

The rest of the world, even Europe, isn't so intent on solving inconveniences. We tend to live with our problems… Americans don't easily live with a problem—they want to solve the problem and move on…

The second great thing for Americans is that your educational system teaches people to think and to express themselves. So a child who talks and asserts himself in conversation is actually awarded higher marks than the one who sits quietly.

Those two things that are such great gifts in the home context become a curse when you go into missions. Americans come to Africa, and they want to solve Africa. But you can't solve Africa. It's much too complex for that. And that really frustrates Americans.

And the assertiveness you are taught in school becomes a curse on the field. I often say to American missionaries, "When the American speaks, the conversation is over." The American is usually the most powerful voice at the table. And when the most powerful voice gives its opinion, the conversation is over.

I tell Americans: "We're going into this meeting. Don't say anything! Sit there and hold your tongue." When you sit around a table, the people speaking always glance at the person they believe is the most powerful figure at the table. They will do that with you when you're the only American. And at some point, they will ask you: "What do you think?"

Don't say anything. If you say anything, reflect back with something like "I have heard such wisdom at this table. I am very impressed." And leave it at that. Affirm them for the contribution they have made. Don't give your own opinion.

Americans find that almost impossible. They do not know how to hold their tongue. They sit there squirming, because they're conditioned to express their opinions. It's a strength at home, but it becomes a curse on the field.

(Source: Problem-Solving, Opinionated Americans from Leadership Journal, The African Planter: Nairobi Chapel pastor on mission trips, and working well across cultures. An interview with Oscar Muriu (quoted in Leading Across Cultures: Effective Ministry and Mission in the Global Church pgs 110-111)

February/March Travels

Unpacking from last weekend's overnight trip to Portland, I'm realizing I won't be moth-balling my suitcase any time soon. (Wait, does anyone still use mothballs?) Yes, it's nearly time for my usual springtime spate of speaking gigs. I'm exited about it; I do enjoy the chance to get out there and shine. Though I need to make sure I'm on top of the deadlines for my writing projects and the more mundane stuff at home. I should also be sure to replace the aging battery and balding tires on my car, lest they cause unexpected adventures along the way.

I'm teaching eight Perspectives classes in three states. Last year it was a different lesson each time, but this time I'm playing more to my strengths and should be able to get by with just blowing the dust off three of my better lesson plans.

Add in one overnight conference thing in Portland, and another of those eight-day trips to Florida for meetings with my Pioneers team, and here's what we've got:

February
Feb 20 - teach Perspectives lesson 7 (Bend, OR)
Feb 23 - fly to Louisiana
Feb 24 - teach Perspectives lesson 7/8 (Baton Rouge, LA)
Feb 25 - teach Perspectives lesson 7/8 (Lake Charles, LA)
Feb 26 - teach Perspectives lesson 7/8 (Baton Rouge, LA)
Feb 27 - teach Perspectives lesson 7/8 (New Orleans, LA)
Feb 28 - fly back to Oregon

March
Mar 2 - teach Perspectives lesson 7 (Richland, WA)
Mar 5 - teach Perspectives lesson 8 (Portland, OR)
Mar 7-8 - Muslim ConneXion (Portland, OR)
Mar 15 - fly to Florida
Mar 16-21 - agency meetings (Orlando, FL)
Mar 22 - fly back to Oregon
Mar 31 - teach Perspectives lesson 10 (Portland, OR)

Perspectives on my Perspectives semester

I started teaching Perspectives classes in the mid or late 1990s, and have been an instructor at 6-12 classes a year ever since. Once I got my groove on (teaching the history of Christian missions) I only had to make relatively minor adjustments from one class to another. Usually if I changed something up it was more because I was getting bored with the old stuff and discovered something new that I liked better than that what I'd been teaching wasn't working.

Most years, teaching opportunities came in twos and threes. I'd teach in one church on a Sunday afternoon, another that Monday night, and maybe a third on Tuesday. With many classes within a couple hours' drive of my house, I could pull off all my responsibilities for a semester - preparation, travel, and teaching - with an investment of maybe 50-60 hours per six classes.

When I moved to Oregon, though, I told my previous contacts that I didn't want to teach outside the West. I hoped I'd still be invited to Colorado (and get a free trip to visit friends there out of it!) But they have an abundance of qualified teachers in that area, so nobody has contacted me about coming back. Opportunities in the Northwest have been fewer because they don't know me here. I've traveled long distances for each of the six classes this term. I've also been invited to teach different topics each time, so I've had to prepare a new material, and put in 150-200 hours of my work time instead of 50. That's meant I've worked very long hours these last six weeks. I've had less time to put into other projects, including some I'm pretty sure would mean more to my supervisor.

A couple of people have asked me, lately, why did I make trying to get into these classes such a priority? What makes it worth it to me to do this kind of thing? I wasn't sure how to answer.

I have to acknowledge there's some performance motive. I've got a lot of stuff in my head I want to share with other people. It was great to be able to pass along some ideas and questions that have piqued my interest in the last year, and that helped me grow and refine my thinking. And now I have half a dozen interesting and effective lesson plans that are up-to-date and ready to use for the future. Normal life provides few opportunities to take on concrete challenges, perform in some way, and get meaningful constructive feedback. So maybe teaching classes is like my mom making something to show at the county fair, my sister entering an adjudicated art show, or my stepson signing up for an optional swim meet. I don't need the blue ribbon, but just being accepted and making a good show helps me improve my own "performance."

There are some other things I get out of this, for myself. I made about $1500 in honorarium payments and book sales. Not much if you're thinking of the hourly rate, but this goes toward my salary and helps bolster the ol' ministry account. I signed up a bunch of new people for our online magazine. The all-expenses paid trips to Alaska and Michigan were certainly a treat, and so was the opportunity to make some meaningful connections with mission leaders and other like-minded people across the state of Oregon. I certainly made some new friends for myself and possibly for Pioneers, an organization many of them had never heard about before.

Other motives are more external. I like to do my part in keeping the fine institution of Perspectives rolling along. I believe in what they're trying to do. The coordinators of the six classes were helped in accomplishing the goals of their programs, and they were glad to have my help. A number of the participants told me how much they felt encouraged or informed by something from my teaching or example. Somehow just having a woman show up and talk about missions makes a huge difference to people. Most of the instructors are still old white guys. Many of them do a fabulous job, but sometimes people need to see someone different in that position, someone who doesn't fit the profile, in order to say, hey, maybe what they are talking about is for me, too.

It's good to get enough feedback to know that my contribution is making a difference. But I have to resist any tendency to try to be a superstar in this rather small mission-speaker world. The temptation is there. When I asked questions about the speakers before me, I felt a stab of jealousy at hearing students and leaders praise the most popular speakers on this circuit, all men who impress classes with their flashy performances. It's probably a good thing that I don't do this kind of thing full-time. By this time of year my job there is done. I organized and packed everything away and will likely not need it again until 2014.

It's better for my soul to put in more hours behind the scenes than on the stage. It's also more consistent with what I'm trying to teach and model - being a servant and willing to be forgotten, not an impressive hero about whom others say, "I could never do that."

The last class I taught was the one on incarnational ministry ("building bridges of love"). I tried to emphasize approaches that major on listening to learning from people in your host community and affirming and empowering them. I shared this story and asked them to wrestle with it. I closed with this quote and the story of this man.

I think it all worked pretty well this year. To God be the glory. Here's some of the student feedback.

"I really enjoyed your lecture. I thought your personal experience in the field was very on point for this lesson. I enjoyed the open discussion in class. I thought it was great that you allowed us to process through some of the material as a group." 

"I really appreciated the way Marti's presentation facilitated open conversation and dialogue among us students. This class was by far the most open and comfortable session we have had so far as a group, and it felt REALLY good. Thank you Marti for being so personable, approachable and letting the Spirit lead."

"She was one of the best teachers yet! She knew how to engage and make us think."

Feng Shui and Instructional Design

 "The way the room is set up effects how people learn," says Beth Kanter, who makes much of her living doing training for nonprofits. "I strongly believe that a workshop, panel, master class, or even a keynote that is interactive is more engaging, people pay attention, they make connections to what they already know and are far more likely to apply it. Certain room set ups encourage interaction between the participants and the workshop leader, others do not."

When I teach, I usually don't have much say in how my room is set up, and though it's on my list of questions to ask about, sometimes don't know until I arrive. If it's a workshop conference, the setup is usually theater style or sometimes classroom. When it's a Perspectives class, they nearly always go with "banquet."

If asked what I prefer, my request usually depends on the size of the group. Theater-style doesn't lend itself to interaction and the lack of tables is uncomfortable for participants, especially if the event is very long and they have books and notes. "Classroom" can be good for a group of any size, especially if the tables are narrow and not built-in. I don't like banquet-style for a small group; it pushes people away from me and each other, and usually they end up by sitting in twos and threes at tables too large for them. When we fewer than 20 people I ask for something more like "boardroom" or "U-shape."

A bad experience in January reminded me how difficult it can be to provide anything like instruction when you're giving a presentation or teaching a workshop--one of many--at a large conference. And part of that has to do with these issues of room setup and group size. What will the room be like? How many people will come, and who? You don't know until it's too late; you have to think on your feet and adjust.

Beth doesn't mention group size, just describes her ideal room set up for effective instruction as "round tables in a room with space to move around (banquet?), projection, the ability to move the group outside for some of the sessions, and wall space to showcase the products of learning." And if she doesn't get it, she "hacks" the space to accomplish what she intends.

This year I made strides in moving away from the lecture format (often expected in environments where I teach) and toward greater participant engagement. I think I still have a way to go. I still do more of the talking than anyone else.

And the wall space requirement? Haven't even begun to go that direction. In reading Beth's post, I realized I'm still balking at including exercises that require learners to write things out in magic marker and put them up on the wall. It's partly due to fears of letting go of control and running out of time. But it's also because those giant sticky note pads that you can just tear off and stick on the wall seem too expensive, and I don't have a good way to carry them in my luggage.

Well, looks like Amazon will sell you a two-pack for US$40. That isn't so bad. Or how about this simple solution:

1. Ordinary butcher paper or easel pad paper (which I can just ask my hosts to provide, or pack in a cardboard tube), and
2. Masking tape. Or colored duct tape to be a little more playful.

Maybe next time!

Learning by expressing ignorance, teaching by example

International Women's Day

Happy International Women's Day! I first learned about this celebration as a young woman visiting Turkmenistan, now almost 20 years ago. How time flies. As part of our research into social structures and events, we asked university students about holidays and celebrations. "You mentioned New Year's, and Korban Bairam (the Muslim festival of sacrifice)... are there others?" They were surprised we did not know about International Women's Day. "It is international day!" one girl exclaimed. (In her country it's a popular national holiday, complete with a day off of work or school.)

Ah, Americans. I felt the same sense of being ignorant and out of touch spending a summer in Mexico City a few years earlier. Everyone was talking about the NAFTA agreement then being put together and expected to have a dramatic affect on the economies of both our countries. NAF-what?

I am not sure how much this strategy works well because I'm a woman, and how much it's just a matter of personal preference ... but whether I'm in Asia, Latin America, or closer to home, expressing my ignorance of and interest in what others have to say is an effective strategy for building relational bridges.

I learn so much that way, too. Knowledge is power. Sometimes it is best to downplay one's own and seek out another's. Is that part of "people don't care how much you know until they know how much you care"? At any rate, life is just more fun and I enjoy it more when I draw other people out and find out where they're coming from.

Women in Missions

The more I learn, though, the more I want to pass it on to others. Recently I taught missions history for a couple of Perspectives classes. Sometimes I'm the only woman speaker they will have. One of the lessons really lends itself well to a discussion of women's lives and contributions to the world mission. I threw out some questions for the students to wrestle with and told a number of the women in missions stories I started to collect when writing Through Her Eyes.  If you are interested in that topic - or speak on it yourself - look through the collection of blog posts to see if there's something you can use.

All this seemed to really hit the spot for the students in a class in Anchorage, Alaska:

"This lesson was very informative. I like history and had never thought to look at the women in missions. I look forward to reading your book."

"Love the women's perspective on their involvement in missions. I had only ever heard 'about the guys' and was unaware of the great sacrifice and powerful role women played in missions."

I'll admit it, I like it when people's response is to like me better. Like the student who wrote,

"You are fun. You are spunky. You laugh a lot and say things quietly to the side, as an afterthought, almost to yourself. I caught a lot of those things. I laughed a lot when I don't think others understood your jokes. Thank you so much for giving your time. Jesus is shining through you and some of him fell on top of me tonight. You rock."

But what's best of all is when people respond to the material by taking to heart, for themselves:

"I was at a point in this course where I was feeling very inadequate. Marti changed that - she is an engaging presenter with a sincere desire to help the learner see the picture that life as a missionary might present. She did not sugarcoat it, and she did not minimize the fact that God has a plan for each one of us if we are willing to pray and step out in faith. Thank you for taking the time to help us."

Want to Be a Great Teacher?

“Ask any great teacher or coach the most effective way to help people learn, and you’ll get a uniform answer: through stories. … Perhaps that was why Jesus Christ relied so heavily upon stories as His primary instructional method.” George Barna, in the introduction to Felicity Dale’s An Army of Ordinary People.

Do you think this is true?

Seriously, “any great teacher,” “the most effective way,” “uniform answer”? Sounds fishy.

I guess that tells you something about me. If you want to stir me to debate or make me think, just start making unequivocal statements like that one.

What is the most effective way to help people learn?

Any ideas?

Maybe it depends in part on culture, or personality, or "learning style."

The value of stories and storytelling as a teaching tool is great, I’ll grant you that. And, though I might never be a “great teacher or coach,” I, too, rely heavily on stories as an instructional method.

Yet I do not think storytelling alone will do the job, and I wouldn’t give it the #1 place in my bag of tricks to help people learn. I think there’s something better.

What do you think?

I'd say.... Experience. Call it situational learning, or created tension, or teachable moments. But many people learn the most through on-the-job training, not through novels or sermon illustration or hearing about something that happened in somebody else’s life. Internships, experimentation, and practical application assignments can do what lectures and stories cannot: only when a person applies the new skill or knowledge to a real-life situation does it really "stick."

So that’s why I say that storytelling isn’t #1, situational learning is. Look through the Gospels and see how well they jive with Barna's claim about Jesus and storytelling. The disciples weren't just sitting around on mountaintops listening to sermons and parables every day; instead, Jesus creates and redeems dozens of powerful teachable moments. 

Perhaps the wise teacher doesn’t use just one technique but several. If you want to be systematic about it, you might find it helpful to analyze your teaching plans in light of Robert Gagne's “Nine Events of Instruction.”

1. Gaining learners’ attention (e.g., ask a question to pique interest).

2. Informing learners of the objective (where are we going with this? What will they get out of it? Create a level of expectation for learning).

3. Stimulating recall of prior learning (i.e., appeal to previous teaching or common life experiences so learners can related it to something they already know).

4. Presenting new information (explain and demonstrate the “content”).

5. Guiding learning (case studies, examples, analogies, mnemonics to help them grasp the content).

6. Eliciting performance (learners apply the knowledge or skill and practice it, show that they can put it to use).

7. Providing informative feedback (coaching, basically. Learners are immediately rewarded/corrected for their application of the knowledge or skill; they see that they “got it” and that it works).

8. Assessing performance (this time, learners are tested in some way without hints, feedback, or coaching).

9. Enhancing learning transfer and retention (learners “perform” or apply their new skill or knowledge and are encouraged to review the content and create or consult reference materials when needed).

That's Why I Created Page Two

Jon is one of the most enjoyable and effective public speakers I know. This fall he spoke twice at our nearest neighborhood Perspectives on the World Christian Movement class. I knew it was unlikely he would say anything I hadn't heard before, but I was listening closely to see how he said it. You know, learn from the master...

I hate to miss a chance to learn from a master.
Jon is a bit taller. Bit pinker too.

Toward the end of the last session of the class, Jon said: "This is all about finding your part. Don't feel pressured to be or do something you aren't designed for. Probably, after taking this class, you shouldn't drop everything to join the mission committee at church. If you work with kids, don't quit that to get yourself a copy of "Rosetta Stone Czech"! Wouldn't you be more successful and appropriate to keep teaching the kids but look for ways to teach those kids about missions? ...What can you do to be more successful in integrating these things you've learned into the patterns of your actual life?"

Jon did hand out a worksheet with "next step" ideas - resources for the journey, he called it. Concrete tools the students could use. But it was simple and clean; no half-inch margins or 8-point fonts.

He also issued an invitation to respond, but he was not going to put anybody on the spot, just encourage us to take 30-60 minutes sometime within the next week to spend time with God asking, "How do you want my life to be different?"

He asked us if we felt we could honestly pray, "Lord, by your grace and for your glory, I will commit my life to obeying your Great Commission, wherever and however you lead me."

Then he handed out a worksheet titled "Developing a Personal Strategy." It included five fairly open-ended questions:

1. Share. What has God taught me that I need to share with the significant people in my life? How can I prepare so that I will be an effective communicator?
2. Grow. How am I going to keep my vision growing? Is there someone or some group with whom I should team up for encouragement and accountability? What other resources can help?
3. Integrate. How do I want my life to change, in the immediate future, as a result of this experience? How will I integrate what I've learned into my everyday experience?
4. Serve. As best I understand myself right now, I think God may intend to use me in the following kind of role as a World Christian: (Or, I need to seek further clarification of my role.)
5. Mobilize. How can God use me to mobilize my church or ministry? What's my next step? For whom should I be praying to sign up for the next Perspectives class?

Then Jon added, "I know, someone of us hate anything like this worksheet. You don't want to be boxed in. And that's perfectly fine. And so, for you, that's why I created page two."

He had us flip the page over. The other side was blank. Do it yourself. Get out your crayons and go.

Love that. Sometimes people need structure, sometimes they need freedom. Wise is the mobilizer who doesn't try to decide for someone else.

"Much to learn, you still have." - Yoda

> Consider how - as a teacher, leader, or influencer - you can offer both structure and freedom to groups of people with different styles.

Three Approaches to Public Speaking and Teaching

I've been lurking at the local "franchise" of the Perspectives program for which I often serve as an instructor. These classes are hosted by local churches across the country and around the world. Each class invites 14-15 different people to come and teach, each on a different week of the class. The class that's taking place nearest me this semester didn't invite me to be one of their instructors, but after sulking for a day or two about that, I realized this might be a good semester for me to give extra time to listening, learning, and observing how other people do things. So when I can make it, I'm going to class.

A few of the speakers we had are in high demand. They came with books and CDs to sell and smooth, well-rehearsed presentations. These, though, were also the speakers who came with a disinclination to hear from or interact with the students. While they did a great job, in my mind they fell a bit short in honoring those they came to serve. Several even asked the coordinators to call off the other things scheduled for class on the days when they were with us. Anything that might have been designed to include the students in prayer, worship, discussion, or response was canceled in order to give more time to the "speaker."

I like a good lecture, and I think I lecture well myself. But if this class is designed to turn people's lives upside down, I think we need to ask: what approaches best engage and connect with the people who take these classes? What approaches accomplish the stated goals of the course? Do lecturing and entertaining fall short of the best we can provide?

I don't want to be too hard on instructors, especially in a context like this where they come and go. The responsibility for integration lies more with the the class coordinators, who can (if they choose) get to know their students and help frame the whole experience. Some really embrace the role and add a lot of value to the whole course for their students. But it usually doesn't happen accidentally.

The course design includes several good tools to help individual students process the material and reflect on its implications for their own lives. There's a text and study guide, reflective homework questions that are graded and handed back, and a major project to complete. I'd love to see students participating in an online discussion forum as well, but I don't think there is one. In this class, no in-class discussion forum either. I've seen very few of these classes use the small-group structure that was common when I first took the course in the 1990's. I've also noticed fewer and fewer class sessions seem to include any notetaking handouts, taking notes seems discouraged.

If all the class content "integration" happens on an individual level and/or through assignments on the syllabus instead of in the classroom, the 50 percent or so of the students "auditing" the class don't benefit from them. They may choose to do the reading, but don't get much (if any) reward or feedback for it. The instructors learn to assume the students haven't done the reading! So I think we're falling on short on integrating what happens in the classroom with the text as well as with the actual goals of the program. I can see some ways this could be fixed, but it's not an easy ship to turn.

As an instructor trying to work within the system, I ask: What can instructors do to increase the "stickiness" and transforming power of the material we teach? 

Teaching Methods:


1. Lecturing: Some of the instructors mostly lectured, covering and illustrating key principles and providing a framework for organizing and understanding the material most significant to their topic/lesson. I appreciated the thoughtfulness in this approach: you can be sure that those using this technique are going to tell the students what they want to know; that they will "cover" the lesson and do it justice.

This approach is the least risky of the three. But sometimes it seemed a bit dry and academic.

Even those who preferred to do all the talking themselves made at least some kind of attempt to answer students' questions. Most, however, gave up when their "does anyone have any questions?" brought stony silence. Once they'd covered their material, they would dismiss the class as much as half an hour early. I guess that's better than going over, but I felt cheated.

2. Teaching: A few of our instructors, including the several seminary professors, took a more of a workshop or seminar approach. They taught. Typically they would share a case study, hypothetical situation, or discussion question to elicit students' personal experience or engage their imagination/problem-solving abilities. They set aside time for personal reflection or group discussion, and provide a means for reporting back. Even if students are cautious about talking, they make extra effort to draw them in.

This can work great, and hypothetically I would consider it the "best" of the three techniques I'll describe. But often it falls flat, particularly when participants do not know the instructor or one another, and haven't been subtly trained to participate in this way. Each instructor only gets one "go" at this; they don't have time to create the class's culture of engagement. Even the most skillful of teachers may fail when they try to "teach" in someone else's class. Sometimes the students get frustrated; if they came to hear the instructor share his/her wisdom. They don't like being thrown back on themselves and expected to pool their ignorance. Though I might predict a different outcome, I noticed that the instructors who approached the class from the perspective of a teacher were seldom among the most popular.

3. Storytelling: Other instructors told a lot of stories. One guy in particular opened his session by explaining that he was going to teach by telling stories, "because all the studies show that's how people learn best!" He was one who'd asked the coordinator to cancel as much previously-scheduled programming as possible in order to give him time to tell his story the way he wanted to. He also promised us we'd remember more of his lesson than all the others unless the other instructors had told stories. Kind of a bold statement, I thought. Though, I'd heard him speak before and knew he was a compelling storyteller. Over the next couple of hours, he shared his personal experiences. Nothing else.

His stories were right in line with the objectives of the lesson he was teaching, this time. Yet, other than his invitation to the students to laugh, cry (or buy the stuff he was selling), he didn't give the students ways to participate. I guess they could enter into the story and identify with him as a storyteller, but if they didn't, there would be nothing there for them. He felt he needed the whole time we were together to tell his story. Little or no provision for questions, response, or interaction. So you can see why I have some reservations about this approach. I guess only time will tell if he was right: if his lesson is the one everyone remembers (as he claimed they would). Is that a good goal?

As a teacher--and as a writer--I use all three of these techniques. I lecture, I teach, I tell stories. But I'm not sure I use them and balance them very deliberately. I don't give a lot of thought to what technique is appropriate to the environments in which I teach and write, other than the significant accommodations I make for the differing class sizes and, as much as I can anticipate them, group cultures. Sometimes I fall short because I'm trying to do it all, or expecting one approach to accomplish that for which another approach is better suited.

I find the storytelling approach, handled well, often the most fun for both student and teacher/writer. I can see why the guys who tell their own stories are the ones in highest demand. But I don't think storytelling stands alone. This is especially true when what trying to catalyze a movement or to train people who will train others. Yes, personal stories are "sticky," but they are often not transferable. If my goal is to equip others to pass on what I teach them, the application of the principles in their own context matters more than how I've applied them in mine.

If you want to teach people who will go out and teach others, the stories you tell should be ones they can turn around and tell others as well as you told them. When I train trainers, I replace many of my personal-experience stories with stories from the Bible and other literature, parables, metaphors, etc. Nothing others can't imitate.

Will you help me out? As a student, maybe even in Perspectives classes, what works best for you, and why do you think that is? As a teacher, maybe even in Perspectives classes, what teaching style(s) do you use? To what extent does your approach depend on your material, personality, status, culture, or context? What (besides glazed eyes) tells you it's time to take a different tack?

Short Answers

Ha ha, no, I haven't been to the Brookings Institute.
I'm just practicing my right to borrow Flikr images
registered with "Creative Commons."

The panel discussion. When you don't know what people have to say, or what other people want to hear about, you add a panel discussion to your group meeting. But my heart sinks when I see it happen; often I come away frustrated and disappointed. What is it that keeps these things from working well? Are there patterns that show up in other forms of communication, too?

Maybe it's the lack of a coherent message. These guys are just talking to a captive audience off the cuff, when they could be coming in with planned, thoughtful speaking or teaching.
 
Maybe it's that the answers don't match the questions. Neither the moderator nor the person in the audience who asks a question is apt to elicit the kind of response they are seeking. Nobody really gets to do all the driving; nobody gets what they want. To use another analogy, sometimes too many cooks spoil the broth. Panels are messy. They may seem to drag on, but seldom are long enough for everyone to really feel they've fully asked or gotten answers to their questions or expressed what's important to them.

Under such pressures, panel members often seem not to be listening. They may come in a little nervous, and hoping to get a certain agenda across. Perhaps they are formulating their next sound bite or wondering how they can weave in a certain reference. So their off-the-cuff responses to questions and to one another may seem ill-put or ill-conceived.

Would it improve things if everyone disciplined him or herself to give a short answer?

The most recent time I saw a panel kind of flop was when a panel member responded too quickly to a question, gave an inappropriate answer, realized he wasn't make sense, and tried to extricate himself with more and more words - taking up time that could have been given to another question (or another panel participant). I thought: hush. Let someone else talk.

In fact, you could issue the invitation yourself: "_____, I think you could probably respond to this better than I could," or "_____, what do you think?"

Do you have other ideas for making panels work well?

No sooner did I start to analyze this, then I realized how often I fall into these traps, myself - both in casual conversation and when I'm "speaking" someplace. I want to ask or be asked questions, I want interaction, but I don't want to or am afraid to follow where it leads. I want to stay in control, or finish my thought; I have some other motivation that doesn't honor and respond to the other person. I make a mess of it and then try to pull myself out of the hole with more and more words.

Better to respond with a short answer and/or ask a clarifying question before making my long, impromptu speech.

I've been keeping a mental list of the social skills I see demonstrated by people who handle presentations, questions, and group interaction very well. These things don't make as big an impression as the negative examples, do they? But I love to learn and try out new "tricks" for listening and communicating well, and lately I've picked up quite a few. Perhaps I'll write a post about that too.
 
See also: W.A.I.T.: Why Am I Talking? (June 30, 2009)

Cross-Cultural Case Studies: What Would You Do?

Yesterday I decided to fill in the gaps and type up the scribbles that I used to teach two sessions on Islam at different churches in October. If I'm ever asked to teach this stuff again, it's organized.

I'm pretty proud of my case studies. I wrote gobs of them. Many from my own experiences. Didn't get to use them all, though. And in neither class did they go over quite as well as I hoped, I'll admit. I was having time management problems at the first class - I promised the coordinator that we'd do this and he told the class, and then I didn't get to it until almost the end of the session. Oops.

The second was a really small group, so rather than breaking them up into twos and threes I walked us through the case studies together. Bad move. People don't really process stuff and interact over it if the teacher is right there. (Maybe they thought I was going to give them the "right" answer?) So, next time, I'm going to force them to work on this stuff without me. Might make all the difference.

Anyway, the idea with the case studies was to help Christians to put themselves in the shoes of Muslims. Or, at least, to consider some of how they might comport themselves if they were hanging out in a Muslim-flavored context. What sort of things might they see, feel, or experience that probably wouldn't happen back home?

Here's a taste. Feel free to snag and adapt them if you find yourself in a place where there are helpful. I think most of these could adapted for any cross-cultural situation, not just a Muslim one.

Case Study #1: The Witch Doctor?

You live in a mostly Muslim area of West Africa. Karim works for you as a driver. He’s very concerned about his wife. She’s so sick and unhappy. He asks you for an advance on his salary so he can take her to the doctor. You suspect he’s going to take her to a witch doctor, but you haven’t asked and you can’t be sure. What do you do next?

This one is kind of fun, because it's a bit of a trick. As you might guess, it's not about the money. Your friend is concerned about his wife and you should be too! Here's the advice I'd give:

1. Be sympathetic. Go visit. See if you can help her. Here’s your opportunity to come alongside someone in the real struggles of life.

2. Be spiritual. Open up dialogue; pray for and with this woman and the husband, if you can, and seek God for healing and peace.

3. Be discerning. In terms of the both the culturally appropriate way to respond to a request for funds, and the witchdoctor question, you need to get some input. Ask others who know the culture better than you do about good ways to respond. And ask God for discernment about how you should respond.

Case Study #2: Doing Business

A. You live in Dearborn, Michigan and are wondering if God might open up the way for you to reach out to Muslims - there are so many of them there! You are about to buy a house. Do you look in a Muslim neighborhood, or buy one from Christians? After all, your family is going to live in this house. You aren’t quite sure how these things work but don’t want to take the chance that "strange" spiritual things have been happening in the place where you raise your children.

B. You are looking for a doctor. Do you get a recommendation from someone at your church, look in the Christian yellow pages, or go to Dr. Hakim, who comes highly recommended but is a devout Muslim?

C. Some Pakistanis, relatively recent immigrants to your country, run the local gas station. You aren’t sure how much English they understand. Do you save them and you embarrassment by paying at the pump, or do you overcome your insecurities and go inside to try striking up a conversation?

Here's one more that could add some new wrinkles to the usual list of do's and don'ts I hear in these classes.

Case Study #3: Holy Books

You've recently moved to a traditional part of Central Asia, and you've heard that many Muslims have traditions different from ours when it comes to handling books that are considered holy. How will this affect how you handle your Bible? You already traded in your beat up paperback Bible for a leather one with gold leaf and a ribbon. But do you keep in a box or carefully wrapped up, and never write in it? Do you put it on a high shelf in your house? Or do you leave it out, carry it around, etc. hoping that people will notice and see how important it is to you?

Do you make sure you read it reverently and when you do, say things like, “This is the Word of the Lord. Thanks be to God!” Do you copy down passages in the local language and give them to your friends who are struggling? Do you make or purchase embroideries of favorite passages and hang them on your walls?

And... do you copy down powerful verses and carry them around in a pouch to keep you safe from harm?

One fun thing about case studies is that I know the endings - what the people in question actually did and how they explained it. And usually I also know people who handled basically the same situation with an opposite approach. (Usually, neither one gets struck by lightening or loses all their street cred.)

Ready or Not

I have done almost nothing to prepare for this class I'm teaching Tuesday night in Arizona (and am counting on nobody involved with that class stopping by this blog...)

The thing with my bereaved friends not only threw me for a loop personally, but I've also spent hours and hours with them since in happened instead of hours and hours preparing my lesson. That's the right choice, of course, but I'm hoping I'll be able to stay focused tomorrow and pull it together. I'd like to come out of the process with a two-hour lesson plan, with a lecture, some small group discussions, a handout, a PowerPoint presentation... oh yeah, and I should probably bring some books to sell and literature to distribute. Am wishing I spent a day on this a few weeks ago or got a head start on it when I was in California.

The previous lesson in this course is about the rhythms of life in a Muslim community - family, honor, hospitality, community gatherings, fasting and feasting. I've taught it several times. When we were developing the course I left my stamp more on that lesson than any other, and even wrote several of the articles (though only one bears my name).

This one, on the other hand, was shaped according to the brain waves of my coworker whose name is on the cover of the book, and I don't quite track with him here. The topic is the spiritual world of Muslims - popular or folk religion. I have story after story about jinn, amulets, magic, and all the things people all over the world look to to protect their families from harm. But since these are stories I've picked up doing sociological research they tend to be from a Muslim's point of view.

For this class I'm supposed to analyze all that stuff and provide a "biblical" perspective. I think what that really means is that I need to help the students feel the ambiguities, recognizing that there's probably a lot more going on here than some little ol' superstitions that we can just dismiss. That maybe our Muslim friends are tracking on something when they believe the world is a spiritual place, not just a rational one, and that the Bible was written to people who think that way too.

However, if I just shake people up and leave them with more questions than answers that may not be the best. I want to present the material in a coherent, thoughtful way, and that may be a little tricky.

Traveler

“Oh, how interesting.” That’s what people usually say when I share with them one of the dozen or so ways I might explain what it is I do for a living. And sometimes they mean it. Other times they are just being polite.

But when I meet people who live the same kind of life as I do, they volunteer a connection that lets me know that we are fellow members of a far-flung tribe: travelers, that’s part of it. Internationals, in a way. People who have lived and worked in other countries, not just vacationed there. People with global connections. And not just consumers, but people who have what I sometimes hear called “a heart for the world.” I don’t know if I like that term, though I can’t suggest a better one.

You probably know that tribal feeling; most of us belong to more than one or more such defining community. I feel much the same at the airport when I line up for a flight to Seattle and look around at the other people getting on board. In some hard-to-place way I can tell they are my kind of people; not like the ones lining up at the next gate for a trip to Dallas. Yes, we’re from the Pacific Northwest, the Left Coast. We’re dressed for rain. We recycle.

Similarly, I bet the kids at last week’s anime festival in New York feel the same way about each other. Or a group of NASCAR fans, or stay-at-home-moms, or Eritrean immigrants. (Maybe there’s even a club for NASCAR-loving Eritrean immigrant stay-at-home moms.)

I suppose I’m unconventional. But I’ve never been one of those people – are they, in a way, a tribe too? – who take pride in being weird, different, special, not like everyone else. Part of the appeal of spending time with people I think are like me is that they won’t look at me as if I’m some strange exotic creature.

The last few days I’ve had a lot of interaction with people who are part of that “internationals” tribe, and not just my coworkers and the people who write the usual flow of emails and articles I read.

• There was the woman who called asking if we’d ever done ethnography on the lives of Somali refugee women, or knew someone who had. I gave her some good tips.
  
  
• And the fundraiser – er, development officer – for a mission agency who dropped in for some research help. He’d been charged to write a paper about why raising Western funds for major building projects might not be the best way to build up churches overseas.
  
  
• The same day I had coffee with a friend I’d worked with on a project in the Balkans and who recently adopted four kids from Liberia. We talked about African orphanages.
  
  
• Another friend, who leads a church-planting team in Senegal, came through town and wanted to catch up; she needed a place to spend the night on Saturday.
  
  
• At a concert Friday night I met a pediatrician, recently moved to Denver, whose fiancé is working as a surgeon at a Christian hospital in Pakistan. They expect to go back overseas together, probably in the DRC (Congo).

So, Friday afternoon, I was taken by surprise when this happened: Friends of mine who work for another mission agency get together regularly for multi-ethnic potlucks, and sometimes I go, too. This month the theme was Middle Eastern. Someone brought mint tea to round out our repast. “Have any of you ever had mint tea in Morocco?” I asked casually.

They all laughed.

It was the wrong question or came out the wrong way, I’m not sure which, but I immediately realized my words had set me apart. Sure, all of them had traveled, but not to the Middle East, and nobody had been to Morocco. They thought it was funny that I asked.

I was swamped by a wave of embarrassment.

Oh, I got over it. I still told them about the big sprigs of mint in the bottom of the glass, the tea poured over them from two or three feet in the air. But I wished I hadn’t brought it up.

How do you feel when you discover people who have done the unusual things that you have done, or had the same experiences? Do you like having “exotic” stories to tell or feel awkward about being different?

I have four speaking engagements next month. At least two of them will only work if I can do a good job telling culture-crossing stories from my own experience. So this is a good time to push aside any discomfort I have about being part of this tribe.

How Many Words a Minute?

Tonight's Islam lecture went off just about perfectly. For a lecture anyway. If I do it again I'll find some ways to break up the talking; I did have a 4-minute video I had planned to show and lead a discussion about, but I didn't quite have time for that. Instead I just lectured, with a little bit of Q&A but not much. The class seemed happy and engaged, but from a teaching perspective there was room to improve.

It did, however, give me a good chance to measure, more accurately, how much material fills two 50-minute sessions. And the answer is 8500* words - at about 400 words a page, that's just over 20 pages of lecture notes. And I guess it tells you I talk 85 words a minute, eh? Or at least, 85 written-on-the-page words. (I think they expand when exposed to air.) I wonder how that compares to other people, objectively?

[Note to people who Google 'how many words a minute' or things like that and end up on this page - Google Analytics tells me there are a number of you... Here's my advice. Time yourself. Really. Prepare your material, read it aloud at the speed at which you expect to present it, and you'll know how long it will take, how much you can cover. You can probably even figure out a minutes-per-page ratio that will help you adjust, so you don't have to time the whole thing.

Then, recognize that yielding to the temptation to add in little comments will of course change the timing. So you have to decide how much margin you need to allow. Raising or accepting questions for discussion is usually a very good idea - and people often remember what you say in the Q&A bits better than in lecture. But that also changes your timing.

The other public-speaking trick I'd suggest is to type/write your material out with headings, underlinings, and, most importantly, page numbers. Then holepunch it and put it in a binder. This keeps you from getting your pages out of order and flustering yourself.]

Also sold the rest of my books, got some contacts to follow up on, and had quite a few enjoyable conversations. Back to Colorado Friday night.

(One more scheduled trip. Feb. 25-28 I'll be in Arizona. )

* Well, my notes from another lecture total 12,000 words -- that is supposed to be two 55-minute periods, though I often show up and they tell me either 50- or 60-minute sessions are what they want, on the spot. I think it would be better for everyone if I trimmed that one to 10,000. And since that's a lecture I've given 60 times (history of the expansion of Christianity), I don't necessarily read from my notes as much as I did for the 8500 word, first-time-I've-done-this, lecture.

The Woman Who Knew Too Much

The more the words, the less the meaning, and how does that profit anyone?
-- Ecclesiastes 6:11

Man, I did it again. I opened up my history notes -- carefully crafted to fill but not overfill the given time -- and I expanded on them. As a result I got all off schedule and ended up pushing aside everything I know about good delivery, instead scrambling to get in as much as I could in the time that remained.

The class walked still walked away blessed, I hope, and probably believing me to be really smart and knowledgeable and hard working, but how much better it would be if I did not act as if I had to tell them everything I know? How can that not come across as arrogant?

You would think that after delivering this lecture 50+ times, I would be wise to this trap, this tendency, but it seems to happen each February when I teach it for the first time of the year. I think it's because I know too much. It's not like I'm brilliant, but every year I pick up another story or two that seems like it would fit. And you can't add something to an already-full plate without taking something else away. That's where I run into trouble. I've got too much good material!

This particular lesson covers the history of the expansion of Christianity in its first 15 centuries. I have two hours to teach it. So last night I was only up to the fifth century, instead of the tenth, when we took our mid-class break. What a scramble to get through a thousand years in the second hour!

The great thing about Perspectives is that it usually involves giving the same talk two or three nights in a row. The second night is always smoother. So, maybe tonight I will be able to refrain from adding back in some of the facts and stories I've ruthlessly tried to cut out.

Today was a delightfully restful day. Stayed in bed until almost 9:00 am, hung out with the B. family, and went with them to visit the grandparents who still live on the land their ancestors homesteaded on. My own relatives wanted to visit with me tomorrow or the next day but I'm doubtful it will work out since I am car-less and they are nearly three hours away. I could have planned this better, but with so much going on I had a hard time anticipating that.

So, unless I'm traversing the state, I'll just pretend this is a weekend and keep taking it easy -- putting in a couple hours on work stuff but not pushing too hard.

Pray for my Thursday lecture though: Most of it is still not written (that's what I should be doing right now...) This time it's the history of the expansion of Islam, a quite different perspective from what I'm teaching here in the Midwest. Karen Armstrong strikes just about the right tone for this in her book Islam: A Short History, so I'll use her work as my foundation. Good stuff. Oh, I know conservatives would consider her soft on Islam - I've heard she calls herself a 'freelance monotheist' - but for this purpose, she's just right.

Here's my introduction:

There is a statement in lesson 1 in your text which is significant for this lesson as well: “To understand Islam we need to look at the world through a different lens.”

Now, I don’t know how much you know or think about world history – a pretty big topic – but to really get where Muslims are coming from and understand the tensions we see in the world today we’ll need to look at some parts of history that, as Westerners, we may know little about -- as well as to look at some of the events we are quite familiar with and to consider the possibility that there may be other ways to interpret them.

To the extent we can do that, it will help us see the world from an Islamic point of view and to relate to Muslims with understanding and compassion.

Work

Sorry, no work-at-home-Wednesday blog entry; this was another 12-hour day at the office. The latter part of 2007 was pretty quiet and a bit dull but 2008 has been different. So far this year I’ve worked an average of 54 hours a week. A good bit of it is the kind of work that provides immediate gratification or an adrenalin rush – bit addictive. So that's fun, but not the way I want to live, honestly. And not a pace I can keep up much longer.

S. and I are half-way through with the six-day Ethnography Training Course we’re teaching. We’ve had some challenges – primarily in the low numbers, late registrations, and a good bit of fuzziness on why the people who came were there in the first place. So, it’s been hard to know how to serve them. But things are flowing pretty well now and it feels worthwhile.

Right after this is over I fly out to Indiana to teach Perspectives. Fortunately I’m giving a lecture I’ve done more than 50 times.

After that, things should slow down a bit.