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When Christ came among us to share our lot as human beings, he could have chosen for himself any position, any title, any job. Of course, he came as the son of a blue-collar, working-class carpenter—a “tekton,” as the Greek of the Gospels says, from the word for “roof.” Though sometimes shown in fanciful illustrations making fine pieces of furniture, St. Joseph and Christ are, in fact, more properly called “construction workers.”
Yet, this is not the title we see used most often for Christ in the Gospels. He is surrounded by disciples, a term which literally means students. He is addressed as “didaskolos” in the Greek in which the Gospels were written, “rabbi” in the Aramaic that the disciples spoke each day, translated as “magiste,” (master) in the Latin of a later age—all of them the words and proper forms of address for a teacher.
Catholic education and the vocation of the teacher go all the way back, then, to the One who is the Beginning.
In our own time, teaching tends to be thought of as a job, a career path, a refreshing alternative to the business world or, conversely, as a quagmire of mediocrity divorced from the invigorating realities of the business world. Many go into the field either because they are dissatisfied with their current jobs and seek an alternative to what they see as an unfulfilling life in the financial markets, for instance, or, ironically, because they are dissatisfied with the educational system and seek to run schools on the principles of the financial markets.
However, the idea of teaching as a vocation, as an identity beyond a job, a way of life that pervades a teacher’s whole day, whole year and whole mentality, a response to an invitation from God and a path toward deeper intimacy with him, is often forgotten. Teachers in all schools—public and private, religious and secular—once saw teaching as, for want of a better word, a lifestyle. And they once saw educator as a noble identity that colored their view of the world and set the priorities of their lives. Many teachers still do, but far from all.
It is the preservation of this key truth that has made Catholic schools so different for so long. The Catholic school system, the individual Catholic school, and the individual Catholic school teacher have, to a far greater degree than others, kept alive the realization that teachers are called (“vocatus” in Latin) by the One who is the heart of what they teach. He provides the source of their inspiration and the goal to which they are moving.
As has been said by many teachers, “We don’t teach the kids because they are Catholic, we teach them because we are Catholic.”
In practical terms, this is why Catholic schools are built around the idea of the “cura personalis,” the care of the (whole) person. The Catholic educator does not simply recite disembodied information to a room full of anonymous customers. The calling of Catholic teachers is to understand the strengths and weaknesses, the possibilities and needs of their students—as a group and as unique individuals. Teachers use that understanding to challenge their students’ abilities, enhance their strengths, strengthen their weaknesses and help each student discover and explore her or his possibilities.
This is why the well-structured Catholic school is built to support Catholic school teachers as they convey to students the love Christ has for them. Teachers do so through each teacher’s own commitment and even self-sacrificial dedication to their students, as well as the teacher’s own love and delight in their subjects or educational disciplines. The English teacher conveys a love of literature, the chemistry teacher a love of science, because they care enough for their students to impart this love to them. They care for their students because they feel a calling to awaken in them the realization of Christ’s love for them and the demand of the Gospel that they take their own talents and use them to express their own love for all others.
Ultimately, the Catholic teacher’s vocation, as are all vocations, is born from Christ’s command, “As I have loved you, so you must love one another.” Whether a teacher teaches Spanish or math, history or computer science, the reason for teaching at all, that call, that vocation is to bring students to an awareness of the first part of that command, that they are loved. And this inspires in them a commitment to the second, that they are called themselves to live for others.
Christ could have chosen any title for himself, any way of life, but from all the world’s possibilities he chose to be called, “Teacher,” and continues his work by calling teachers to do his work today.
Christopher Franz is a teacher at St. Joseph by-the-Sea High School on Staten Island.
