That goes double for teachers who spent hours preparing a lesson only to have me derail it. I like to think I am not as bad now, but there was a time when I would look for ways to be funny or annoying during a lesson just to get the attention for myself. Even during Sunday School or Seminary when the lesson was on thinking of others. Like Brother Eastmond's lesson based on King Benjamin's speech.
King Benjamin taught his people to serve and work and to look towards Christ. The reason was "And behold, I tell you these things that ye may learn wisdom; that ye may learn that when ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God." (Mosiah 2:17) My junior year of seminary Bro. Eastmond was teaching us this lesson from the Book of Mormon, and he proposed a race to teach us about following the words of King Benjamin. We would be given a set of directions, and if those directions were followed precisely they would lead us to a second set of directions. That would lead to a third, then a fourth, and finally a fifth set of directions. The class would be broken into teams, and whichever team could do the course in the shortest amount of time would be declared the winner.
As my team waited for our turn something was tugging at my memory. It was something my sister had told me. She was four years older than me, and had taken the Book of Mormon class with Brother Eastmond. She once came home very impressed with a lesson. I remember she said that Bro. Eastmond had challenged the class to complete a race, and everyone thought the purpose was to prove how quickly they could follow instructions. What they didn't realize was that along the course Bro. Eastmond had planted people who needed help. A girl who was crying alone, a young man searching to something in the grass, a pair of boys trying to carry a heavy box, a car that was stalled and wouldn't start. Julie said she was so proud of her time, until the people they had ran past walked into the room. Then her head hung in shame. She knew she had missed the true point of the race.
But I knew!! It was like having a secret power! I could be super cool - the guy that won the race and was super kind hearted! Everyone would wish they had been like me, and I would have shown them the proper way to be charitable. I quickly gathered my team and explained what I knew. One of the girls on my team suggested we play along and pretend we didn't know, but I told her it would be more fun to outsmart the teacher. We waited for our turn.
We were chosen to go last, and when we left we asked the crying girl if she was ok, we helped the guy look for his contact lens, we carried a heavy table, and helped some guy start his truck. We walked back to the classroom triumphantly. The teacher then asked his helpers to come in. I saw the other teams recognize the distressed kids and they looked shamed at their uncharitable attitudes. This was my moment of glory.
Then the teacher said, "So I apparently one of the teams figured out what this was really about, which I guess ruins it for them, but for the other teams, let's talk about why you passed these people up, and what you have learned."
My heart sunk.
I ruined it for my team? I had saved my team! I was the hero, but I could tell in Bro. Eastmond's voice that he knew exactly who had spilled the beans and why. He was kind enough to not call me on it, but I started thinking. What had I ruined? The other students were saying things like, "I was in such a hurry I didn't stop to think about how the other people were feeling..." and "I wanted to win and so I didn't care what got passed up..."
The spirit apparently couldn't pass up the opportunity to add his comments. Bro. Eastmond had spent hours orchestrating an object lesson that would cause us to act the way we act in the real world. He had carefully chosen which students would help him and where they would be and what they would need, and his goal was to create a scenario that could be diagrammed to learn about service. Then one of his students ruined the surprise that was key to the lesson.
What was I trying to teach? How cool I was? How to outsmart the teacher? I was so focused on myself that I didn't think about what was most valuable to the class. The spirit made a point to mention that not only did I ruin the lesson for myself, but I dragged the rest of my team down too. In a classroom of students who were ashamed of their selfishness I was three times as embarrassed as any of them.
How often have I goofed off during the lesson, or tried to make the object lesson backfire? How many times have I tried to find a funny answer to the question, or give the wrong answer just to see the teacher react? How many times have I told myself their lesson was boring, and I was actually doing them a favor by throwing in a little humor? "And now, I say... that after ye have... been taught all these things, if ye should... come out in open rebellion against God; ...and repent not, ... the demands of divine justice do awaken thy immortal soul to a lively sense of your own guilt." (Mosiah 2:36-38).
Bro. Eastmond challenged us to look around and find ways to serve, then mentioned, "Please don't tell anyone about this object lesson, I want it to still be a surprise for the other classes. It's important to see how they react without knowing they're being tested." I thought to myself, 'Don't worry, Bro. Eastmond. I've got that part now.'
I made a promise right then to perform a specific type of service: help the teacher. Instead of trying to get the spotlight I would try to figure out how the teacher wanted the students to learn, and to help. Sometimes that means staying quiet, sometimes that means sharing my own thoughts, but it never means trying to make myself look cool. When I help the teacher I am actually serving Christ, because as King Benjamin put it, "And behold, I tell you these things that ye may learn wisdom; that ye may learn that when ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God." (Mosiah 2:17).
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