Student A: “Who came up with Pythagorean Theorem?”

Student B: “Michael Jackson”

Student A: “When??”

Student B: Right after he came up with the moon walk, I think. 

In high school math, one of the most challenging concepts for students to grasp will prove to be learning how to solve a system of equations. In an application of systems problem, a young scholar will read an informational paragraph, write a system (consisting of two or more dependent equations of two or more variables) from the information given, and will then solve for each variable in terms of the others. This doesn’t sound like it should be that difficult—but here’s the rub: 3 out of 5 students will fail to comprehend the problem they have read because they have not been taught to comprehend what’s being read in order to abstract the information needed to construct their system. What’s worse? One out five of those students probably can’t read, period. 

Ironic that students fail to deal with systems of equations because of a system (of the educational sort) that we have created. 

We deal with problems of systems. Literally. 

I listened this evening as our President warned our nation of our falling educational status and the risk young people face in the job market without a post-secondary degree in hand. He forecasted that in the future more than ever, careers would require education past high school. Politicians urge school districts to keep young people off the streets, and to set them on vocational or collegiate paths. The at-risk and impoverished children are the ones who, if unchecked, pose the highest threat of causing violence or disturbance, and, according to our legislators, must be monitored the closest. 

Yet, the average tuition rate of post-secondary institutions was between 9 and 35thousand dollars in 2010. And, oh, that’s per year. According to our leaders, our at-risk youth are the ones who need continued education and job training most, and yet they are the least likely to attain it. 

We deal with problems of systems. 

On a moonlit and wine-flavored night a few weeks ago, I discussed the problem of our society’s double standard in regard to gender and sexuality with a very dear friend.  Suffice it to say that people everywhere are starving for affection, attention, and a place to feel that they belong. It’s not “cool” for males to make themselves emotionally vulnerable, and yet there’s an incredibly negative stigma attached to the female who is without a beau. 

We find ostracized young women being colored as little better than prostitute, while sincerely searching for companionship from men who have been taught that it is not “manly” to open themselves up to a relationship that is anything more than physical. Given, this is a generalization in which a broad stroke is painted, but in the last three years, teen pregnancy has averaged 750,000 annually. That’s upwards of a quarter million tiny precious souls who will be brought into this world as reminders of much uglier sentiment: that not all love is returned, much less kept pure. 

We deal with problems of systems.

Homelessness, poverty, energy consumption, materialism, Welfare, abuse and violence—

They are often of our own creation. 

Just like the ninth grade math student who is overwhelmed by first the description of a system, and then the search for the solution, I am utterly boggled by the ugly and twisted cycles of darkness that generate the type of despair and delinquency that we will continue to face in coming days. I am quite often forced to put a face on the sufferer of the consequences—any one of my students, for example—and am heartbroken. And yet, as only one person, I realize that individual-to-individual intervention isn’t going to cut it. It’s a problem with systems. 

I believe that there is a God who is capable of developing the cure for cursed and corrupt systems. I believe that he is asking us to shift our focus—to use a wide lens to frame the “bigger picture.” We’re going to have to dream big, and we’re going to need motivation. It’s going to take a system to cure the systems.

“A friend of mine who is celibate makes it very clear that her vow of celibacy is not to go without love, but it’s a vow to what she calls “universal love.” I’ve realized over time that she is a deeply connected person. There is a certain potency to her presence that is hard to describe. She owns no property and she lives as simply as she possibly can because she committed early in her life to give everything she had to making the world the kind of place God dreams it could be. It is a joy to be with her because everything matters in her life. Nothing is shallow or trite or superficial. She’s very funny and smart and compassionate — a magnificent human. Because she’s been exploring her own soul for so long, she knows herself inside and out. She’s at peace, and it’s contagious. 

You can’t be connected with God until you’re at peace with who you are. If you’re still upset that God gave you this body, or this life, or this family, or these circumstances, you will never be able to connect with God in a healthy, thriving, sustainable sort of way. You’ll be at odds with your maker. And if you can’t come to terms with who you are and the life you’ve been given, you’ll never be able to accept others and how they were made and the lives they’ve been given. And until you’re at peace with God and those around you, you will continue to struggle with your role on the planet, your part to play in the ongoing creation of the universe. You will continue to struggle and resist and fail to connect.”

Mark Twain said that a book wasn’t worth reading in the first place if you didn’t want to go back and read it again. I am currently re-reading Rob Bell’s Sex God, and finding so many things that I missed before. 

As I was reading tonight, this passage stopped me in my tracks—as if I had been caught stealing cookies, or trying to sneak into an R-rated movie. 

The girl that Bell is writing about—what does her life look like? What does it mean to not have anything superficial or trite about you? How do you devote yourself to making this world a better place? How do you find that? How do you explore your own soul?

When I picture this girl in my mind, I picture thumb-rings, hemp bracelets, and cargo khaki pants. And yet, I have this desire to find the peace that Bell describes within her. In just the small doses that I have experienced in my own life, there is such an overwhelming peace that comes in a place of contentedness. 

It is my prayer—and my goal— to figure out how to explore my own soul. It’s quite obvious that her connectedness, which is rooted in a tremendous love for people, is the root of her ability to be so stable. I guess it would be more like a re-channeling of the energy I normally use on being anxious, worried, and fretful. So, here’s to re-evaluating and re-defining the way I use my energy. Here’s to connecting with God and others in a healthy way that originates in and leads to contentedness. Here’s to exploring my own soul.