Teaching and Learning VII

How long will you worship dumb idols and run after false gods?

 - From Psalm 4

In 2018, everybody's concerned about being real. They're obsessed with not being "fake."

Our of their mouths, they talk about being authentic, genuine . . . being who they really are. 

And then they spend small fortunes having experiences and changing things about themselves that are not . . . well . . . organic.

If I point out everything that I think is fake . . . perhaps it will make my dissatisfaction with myself seem genuine.

Humanity has had a problem discerning what's fake from what's real, since the very beginning. Adam's explanation to God was fake . . . but he tried to rationalize it with a marginally true statement "I saw that I was naked and I was afraid."

Cain's desire to please God was fake (by their fruits are they known) and he committed the first act of terrorism and hate.

We educate our children, because we want them to be able to discern between the fake and the real. But rather than give them the tools to understand, question, and use evidence, we try to tell them what to think as well. We really don't trust others to come to the right conclusions (our conclusions) and we really don't even trust ourselves to be able to effectively train them in the right way . . . so we tell them what to think.

We believe that young people that believe as we do are virtuous, wise beyond their years, and courageous. 

God told us to resist false, or fake, gods. We have to be told this, because we are so wont to go after what's fake. If we're honest with ourselves, we indeed have a problem with this. Every one of us. Even Bill Nye.

Fake self-image. Fake priorities. Fake opinions. Fake goals. Fake knowledge. Fake news. Fake science. Fake hate. Fake love. 

Fake fake.

It's a four-letter word that sounds like the granddaddy of four-letter words. 

We're so obsessed with not being fake, that we become fake. We manifest it in our finger-pointing. Our witch hunts. Our modern-day inquisitions. 

If I can prove that you're fake, then I become more real.

There's not an iota of unconditional love in any of it. 

How about this:

Rather than try so hard to make others unfake . . . rather than having such a focus on methods and processes, teaching models and theories, and research-driven plans and programs, let's start with basic humility.

"I am here to teach you how to tell the difference between right and wrong, between what is real and what is false.

LESSON ONE: I'm as likely to be at fault as anybody. Teachers, scientists, pastors, doctors, parents . . . and you . . . are all human. We're not perfect. We are subject to being in error. We're wrong more than we're right.

"But it's okay. You have great value anyway. I accept you. And here, we all accept each other, and together we'll challenge each other to improve our thinking. We'll learn from one another, and open each other's minds to the wonders, and truths, of the universe."

Realizing that you have limited understanding, and that you probably are, even now . . . buying into something that is not real (focus on yourself, not on other people's errors) . . . 

Is the most real thing of all.