Dear Bible Class Teacher,

I don’t know how long you’ve been teaching your students about God’s Word. Maybe weeks. Maybe months. Maybe decades.

I don’t know how many people—young, old, or somewhere in between—have sat at your feet and listened to you explain stories from the Bible, as best you can. Maybe a few. Maybe a few hundred. Maybe more.

I don’t know how long it takes you to prep each week. Maybe 15 minutes. Maybe several hours. Maybe additional time assembling crafts, making copies, or studying commentaries. Time you could have spent on other pursuits.

I don’t know how many adult Bible classes you’ve missed because you counted it worthy to be a teacher—a giver—rather than solely a receiver. Maybe a few. Maybe a lifetime’s worth.

I don’t know how the Coronavirus has affected your teaching ministry. Maybe you’re still teaching in person. Maybe you’re Zooming lessons remotely. Maybe the class you teach has been postponed for a season.

I don’t know how often you’ve gotten positive feedback from your students, their parents, or your church leadership. Maybe weekly. Maybe occasionally. Maybe never.

Here’s what I do know…

What you do matters.
What you do makes a difference.
What you do affects eternity.

Two quick stories…

Among the many fine, dedicated Bible class teachers who have taught and encouraged me through the years, Miss Edith Focht stands out. From 1974-1979, ages 8-13, I sat at the feet of Miss Edith and learned God’s Word. I’m pretty sure we hit every story in the Bible.

Our classroom was in a dark, dank, cinder block room in the basement of the Dover Church of Christ in Delaware—the first room on the right once you descend the steps. Our congregation was small, and I was often the only student in class on Sunday mornings. Regardless, Miss Edith made me feel special, like I belonged. Armed with a felt board and a big heart, she brought Bible stories to life in a powerful, compelling way. I climbed those basement steps after class each week with a little better understanding of how much God loves me.

During heavy rains, the church basement flooded, but that didn’t stop Miss Edith. We would sit around the little table with our Bibles open and our shoes resting in water. Miss Edith would present the lesson from God’s Word with the sound of sump pumps and deacons with mops in the background. If the lesson was on Noah or the parting of the Red Sea, our wet predicament would serve as a prop. Regardless of the conditions, Miss Edith was going to teach, and teach she did—with passion, energy, and most of all love. Week after week, month after month, for six years, Miss Edith changed my life.

As I sit here, in 2020, writing a book about the Bible, my mind keeps going back to Miss Edith. With the help of the internet, I learned this week that Edith M. Focht died peacefully at her Delaware home, at the age of 80, on February 10, 2010. Her obituary reads, “She was a long time member of the Dover Church of Christ and enjoyed volunteering her time with the related church activities.” Based on my experience with her and the impact she had on my life, that one sentence recap of her ministry seems so inadequate. Thus, this blog.

Edith mattered.
Edith made a difference.
Edith affected eternity.

I’m not sure, as an 8-13 year-old boy, it ever occurred to me to thank Miss Edith. Maybe I did. I’m not even sure, at the time, I fully understood how she was building a spiritual foundation for me. But she was. I get it now. I plan to give her a high five and a hug when my journey is over and we meet again. In the meantime, I’m thanking you, the soldiers of Christ who follow in her footsteps. You matter too! Your impact can be just as great on the Bible class student, young or old, sitting at your feet!

Second story…

A few years ago, while visiting the Lafayette Church of Christ in Ballwin, MO (where my youngest son, Kyle, ministers at), I sat in Bob Clark’s Bible class. Bob, the preaching minister for this congregation, told the class about a large bone which sits on his desk. He used the bone as an illustration for how to study Scripture. In short, (1) Dogs are passionate about bones; (2) Dogs chew on bones; (3) Dogs sometimes bury a bone but dig it up later to chew some more; and (4) A bone kept in a package and stored in a cabinet doesn’t do the dog any good.

His illustration was simple, but highly effective. He spent a few moments on it and then went on to something else, like a good Bible class teacher will do.

And now, as Paul Harvey would say, the rest of the story…

I took notes in Bob’s class that day. If a teacher or preacher uses an effective illustration, there’s a good chance I’m going to record it in my Bible.

A couple of years later, I extracted his metaphor from the margin of my Bible and included it in Faith in the Margins, my 365-day devotional book. You’ll find it on January 8th.

A year later, in 2019, Ms. Donna Kesler of Cleveland, NC, purchased Faith in the Margins and began reading the devotionals. Later, she purchased the book for her niece, Lee Jan and also for Lee Jan’s friend, Mary Kossel, of Lexington, NC. Lee Jan and Mary share a phone devotional and prayer time together every Saturday morning.

Mary worships and works with the Lexington, NC congregation. While reading Faith in the Margins, she came across Bob’s bone metaphor and was inspired by it. So inspired, in fact, that she created a bulletin board for her church that reads, “Study My Bible Like a Dog with a Bone.” A bulletin board that children and others walk by, read, and are likely inspired by.

All because a guy named Bob was led by the Spirit to teach a Bible class. Yes, his simple illustration about a dog and a bone traveled 768 miles, from Bob => Steve => Donna => Lee Jan => Mary, and ended up on a bulletin board in NC for myriad students to learn from, because that’s how God works. When Christians sow bountifully, we can expect to reap bountifully (see 2 Corinthians 9:6). When you teach passionately, expect God to bring about great results, even though you may never know about them this side of eternity.

So, to the Bible Class teachers out there, thank you. THANK YOU! You matter. You make a difference. You affect eternity. How far God will extend the seeds that you sow, and what messengers he’ll use along the way, is up to God. Let’s also trust him with the results–to bring forth the increase (see 1 Corinthians 3:7). Your job—our job—is simply to teach. To scatter seed. Even in dark, dank, flooded basement classrooms. Even with only one student.

Sow seed and let God do the rest.