A Young Father Makes Some Changes

One Sunday as a young father of four children, I found myself doing what I had done for many years—watching sports for pleasure and relaxation. My wife Linda, who was busy in the kitchen making dinner, said something that startled me and shifted my free-time paradigm.

“Do we have to always have our Sundays built around sports and the droning of the announcers interrupting our meal and peace?” A few weeks before, an inspired ecclesiastical leader had suggested the importance of teaching good habits to my children with a timely reminder that they were only going to be small and teachable for a few years. Once that window passed, it would be gone forever.

At the time, I also happened to be listening to some family experts’ soundtracks about setting traditions in my home. These combined reflections came into sharp focus with Linda’s question that day. I thought to myself, watching those games would never change the outcome of those contests—but spending time with my children and making memories with them might change both their lives and mine forever!

That is not to say I never watched or took them to another sporting event. But it was a moment where I knew that building memories and traditions with them had the power to affect their long-term outcome and mine. That was a moment of beauty and of learning to better understand priority. It was the moment I learned this truth: quantum change requires a new paradigm.

A Grandad Knows He Can Still Make a Change

Just prior to getting married I met Linda’s grandfather. Everyone affectionately called him Grandad. It was easy for me to see why he was so beloved in the family. He had the natural gifts of unconditional love and service and would do anything for anyone. The first day I met him he had his friend “Bud” helping him with a project. Bud had his own set of challenges. But it was clear that Grandad saw strangers as friends he hadn’t met yet, and friends as family. This made everyone in Grandad’s life “family” and I was glad to be brought under that umbrella.

Despite my near instant affection for Grandad, I could tell there was some reluctance by Linda’s mother to introduce me so early in our relatively fast courtship. (We met on a Thursday, I proposed to her the following Thursday and we were married two months later!) Grandad, it turned out, had a challenge with alcohol addiction. Transparency of familial challenges to others is a delicate thing, right? But Grandad was one of those people who gave love unconditionally. I recall thinking at the time what a great grandad he would be for me too!

Grandad had lost his wife after not even 20 years of marriage, leaving him to raise four children alone. Life had not been easy for him. As I met the family, now grown, I admired what a beautiful life he had built for everyone from such difficult circumstances.

Then one day something unexpected happened. Grandad told us of a choice he made to go into a substance abuse facility. I remember him showing us around the place and telling us of his desire to never touch alcohol again. I recall thinking at the time what a courageous choice he made and how he humbly brought us all into his circle of hope and healing. I was fervently rooting and praying for his success. A few weeks later he exited the facility, never to touch alcohol again. I marveled that if a 70+ year old man could do that, nothing is impossible. I will ever be grateful for his example of change, love and determination. The lesson learned: I too can improve and change at any age and anytime.

Young Scholars Learn How to Change Hearts… Including Their Own

Last week, I spent a morning visiting a few classes at John Adams Academy with some visitors. I have never been disappointed by the learning, wonder and beauty that is always happening there. The last class we visited was our performing choir Virtus, which means valor, courage, and excellence of character.

Virtus are led by Greg Blankenbehler, who is one of the most inspirational teachers and conductors I have ever met. “Mr. B,” as the youth affectionately refer to him, is loved and admired immensely—and his students show it with their passion for excellence. He is an expert mentor and guide at helping them use music to confront the human side of life and see themselves in a purposeful light.

Recently, Virtus had a concert that centered on Civil War themes such as slavery, war, love, honor, virtue, integrity, and faith. Vocal music allows the vocalist to inject themselves into the lives and lyrics of the struggles of another. It is healing, especially when experienced with other youth and peers who too are growing up and are also figuring out the path of happiness. That morning was one of those Providential moments that occasionally comes together during great learning—and the visitors and I were lucky enough to have chanced upon a beautiful moment in the making.

We observed the choir as they explored the motifs of the music: finding hope, peace, and endurance. They started with the song “Down to the River to Pray.”

Virtus then sang “The Battle Hymn of the Republic” with such expression as I have rarely witnessed in a choir. I was listening to a heavenly choir of youthful angels. After three of the pieces were sung with great expression, emotion, and passion one of the visitors asked the scholars, “Is this your favorite class?”—to which almost all in unison said, “YES!”

The visitor then asked why and the scholars eagerly started telling their own stories of how that class, their friends, and teacher had changed them forever. For many, participation in the choir had unexpectedly and beautifully brought them through the difficulties of being teens and had led to the discovery of their personal excellence. Many were visibly moved and weeping, as was I.

Before the visitors and I departed, the scholars asked if they could sing one more song for us. We were like, “Are you kidding?! Of course, you can!”

We were thrilled with the encore. The song is highlighted with an emotional solo from the musical Civil War about a son asking someone to “Tell My Father” about his death on the battlefield.

Tell my father that his son

Didn’t run or surrender

That I bore his name with pride

As I tried to remember

You are judged by what you do

While passing through

As I rest ‘neath fields of green

Let him lean on your shoulder

Tell him how I spent my youth

So the truth could grow older

Tell my father, when you can

I was a man

Tell him we will meet again

Where the angels learn to fly

Tell him we will meet as men

For with honour did I die

Tell him I wore the blue

Proud and true, through the fire

Tell my father so he’ll know

I love him so

Tell him how I wore the blue

Just the way that he taught me

Tell my father not to cry

Then say goodbye

As the boys in the choir sang, the girls sat on the bleachers in small groups holding each other and silently weeping together. I would have loved to capture those moments on video, but it will have to suffice that this indelible memory will feed my soul and theirs for the rest of our lives. It was a lesson in beauty never to be forgotten.

Thanks, Virtus and Mr. B, you are changing a generation. We can change for the better at any age.

“Our fate is shaped from within ourselves outward, never from without inward.”   —Jacques Lusseyran

I learned one of the most beautiful lessons of life while on a flight to Hawaii reading The Anatomy of Peace by The Arbinger Institute.

Part of living life involves interacting with other people. People in communities often, perhaps inevitably, produce conflict. The knee-jerk solution in most cases is to tell others they need to change. But what the book suggested was I needed to change. While reading, I reflected that the heart of personal conflict was this—I was allowing others to put me into a box where, once confined, I had few options for change from either them or me.

The Anatomy of Peace invited me to ask myself some questions. Was I seeing people as people—or people as objects? Was I betraying myself and my principles by the way I react to conflict? Was I honoring my desire to help my neighbor? Is my heart at war or at peace? Was I at peace with myself and others? As I read the book and pondered these questions I realized the only person I could control was me. As I contemplated, the thought came to me that self-governance, personal responsibility, and accountability were my path out of these boxes of conflict. That statement ultimately became the 10th Core Value at John Adams Academy. As a core value, self-governance, personal responsibility, and accountability suggest that the ideal outcome of an American Classical Education™ is to create such citizens and souls.

Some 30 years ago my sister moved to Maui with her family of eight children. The first week at school her small and wiry twins were first into the line to get on the bus home. They soon found themselves facing down much larger and stronger Hawaiian girls who pushed them out of line and took their place. The twins’ older brother, seeing the injustice, quickly came to their rescue and was promptly pummeled and pushed down by the stronger girls as well. On the way home the native girls taunted and threatened them to not get on the bus the next morning. Upon arriving home, they shared this all with their mother. My sister made some calls to a few neighbors and friends who told her these girls were known neighborhood bullies and should be avoided. They counseled her to call the school and the police.

My sister, who has a cheery and charitable temperament, decided instead to bake some bread and cinnamon rolls. She then visited the homes of the Hawaiian girls and offered the baked goods. This gesture immediately disarmed them. She next asked them if they had ever done gymnastics? My sister was an elite gymnast in her day. She taught them a few gymnastic moves and the native girls quickly became good friends to the family.

I learned much from this example at the time, and in the years that followed I had the challenge of trying this out on my own! In Proverbs we read, “A soft answer turneth away wrath: but grievous words stir up anger.” (KJV Bible Online, Proverbs 15:1) My sister had put those words into loving action and proved them true.

A few years ago, I had a difficult conversation with a neighbor of mine. She had called to tell me our dogs had gotten loose that day and were a nuisance to the community. She continued that on previous occasions the dogs had attacked a fawn and even charged at a 4-year-old child. She forcefully questioned, “What are you going to do about it?”

I assured her I shared her concern. We were doing all we could with two fences, tags and even tracking devices. She then repeated the same accusations. I told her the dogs would never harm a child and that our own grandchildren were never threatened by them. I told her they would, however, go after a wild animal like a deer. That is what dogs do. She continued lecturing me and finally, feeling exasperated, I said, “Are you finished?”

She quickly shot back, “You are being condescending to me Mr. Big Shot CEO!” and proceeded to call me a number of colorful names and expletives. I told her that she was now stooping to the level of personal attacks. She said I had caused her to do that and retorted, “What are you some sort of liberal snowflake?” I have never had anyone refer to me as a liberal snowflake before! She spouted next, “I’ve seen you before and know who you are. If those dogs get out again, don’t be surprised if they disappear!” I replied, “Are you threatening me or my dogs?” She then called me some more derogatory names. I again asked if she was finished and we terminated the call. Wow! Looking at my watch I saw this was 15 minutes of torturous conversation!

I thought afterward, she knows nothing about me and had judged me solely based on where we live and perceptions around her observations. Seeking a remedy, the next morning I got a bouquet of flowers and took them to her. Her husband answered the door. He didn’t know who I was and invited me right in. As she entered the foyer she looked at me and said, “I think I know you.” I said, “Yes you do, you called me last night. I am Dean Forman, your neighbor.”

She came up and hugged me and said, “I am so sorry, I have felt terrible about this ever since I hung up the phone.” I told her that I wanted to reset and start over. I explained that it did not offend me that she called animal control as the dogs were not street savvy. I reiterated they were not vicious, and we owned them for the purpose of keeping deer off our property. I added that the rains had softened the ground and they found a way out. I told her I was a caring neighbor and a Christian and that I try to be a good person. I asked her forgiveness.

She said, “Can I hug you again? The flowers are lovely.” I said, of course and I gave her my cell number and told her to call anytime there was a problem. I assured her that she really did not know us and that we are good neighbors.

My choice to meet anger with humility and an outreached hand was inspired by my sister’s example all those years ago when she chose to meet an act of bullying with a sweet treat and a sweeter greeting of love. Thanks to her I thought, why not take some flowers and at least you can know that you did all you could to mend relations? It worked like a charm! Love conquered hate, harsh words were replaced by understanding and friendship. I left feeling such a comfort and inward peace. Thus, the anatomy of peace. That is one of the most beautiful lessons of life I have ever learned.

What is the most beautiful thing you have learned? How did you know it?

Years ago, my daughter fell in love with a young man whom she met during her summer break from college. I remember their relationship moving rather quickly and her talking about marriage. I counseled her at the time that she was not ready for that step, which did not go over too well. But in considering the ways I could counsel my daughter, I went deep into thought and discovered the most beautiful word in any language, LOVE.

Over the next few months my future son-in-law became a regular around our home in the evenings for our spiritual devotionals. During one of those evenings, I remember asking him if he had ever considered serving a mission for The Lord? He replied that when he was younger he participated in a religion-sponsored Scout troop, and he always heard the other boys talk about missions and thought he too would serve one someday. I told them both I knew they had been discussing marriage but I felt they needed both time and the blessings a mission would bring to their future union. I then said this to him: “You think you love my daughter. But you don’t know what love yet means.” I went on, “If you go on a mission you will learn to put God first and love Him with all your heart, might, mind and strength. You will also learn to love, sacrifice, and put others before self. Then when you faithfully return, I will know you learned to love God and others more than you love yourself. I will also know that you have the capacity and understanding to love my daughter, your children, and my grandchildren more than you love yourself.”

Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. This commandment is most often cited from the Gospel and epistles of John, but the commandment is also found in Leviticus and in the teachings of Christ and His apostles. We do need to love ourselves and others. Love can only reach the pinnacle of its purpose when employed in the beautiful triangle of self, neighbor, and God.

But what is love? We use this word a lot in America. As a teen there was a new sitcom on television called “Love, American Style.” It was a romantic comedy that suggested that “love” was rarely more than a passing passion, lust, or romantic attraction to another person that often found its highest expression in a quick liaison in the bedroom. It was a very shallow definition of love. In lasting relationships friendship is frequently at the heart of the emotion. It is where utility or transaction give place to excellence in love.

Websters 1828 Dictionary defines a friend this way: “One who is attached to another by affection; one who entertains for another sentiments of esteem, respect, and affection, which lead him to desire his company, and to seek to promote his happiness and prosperity; opposed to foe or enemy.” Amor and amicita come from amare, to love. The word for friend in Spanish is amigo and is also derived from the Latin root am.

In Greek, four words are used to describe what we use for one. (See C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves)

Storge: Storge is the love of enjoying someone or something. It is frequently expressed as a fondness, familiarity as with a brother, sister, or family member. Storge may also be expressed as in liking a movie or play and can be a type of this love. With people, it can be the enjoyment of their company. Both ice cream and being with good friends and family can be examples of storge. This kind of love is the covering that clothes the other loves. Its foundation seems to be pleasure and transactional.

Philia: Filial love or friendship builds to a more noble state of honor and virtue when two discover that they have ideas in common and beliefs that build on those ideas. This friendship is pointing somewhere, usually toward a mutual aspiration. It is beautifully illustrated when friends would do anything for the other, thus going beyond business or pleasure.

Eros: Romantic love. This is also the love that creates the hottest of fires in our emotions. This is the love that is most frequently confused with the other three and can too easily be subsumed by lust and risks transforming another person to an object for momentary gratification. Yet it can also be the beautiful sacrament of commitment, covenant and trust that demonstrates ultimate loyalty, fidelity, and devotion.

Agape: Divine love. This is the highest and most unselfish of the loves. Paul in 1 Corinthians 13 called it charity. For many it is not natural and at times it goes against human nature. It loves the unlovable, the undeserving, and selfish individuals. It gives all and asks for nothing in return. It is the one that takes the greatest chances. It is also that love which experiences the most loss. It puts others above self. It elevates the other three loves to their highest virtue. The Apostle Paul put it this way, “Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. Charity never faileth:….” Its apex may be found where two people would lay down their life for the other.

When you put all four of these loves together, they will never fail you. They make an unbreakable bond of being and becoming. They will inform, guide, and nurture a true love and your real existence of happiness and pure joy above any other momentary pleasures. This is what I most wished for my daughter and her future husband as they stood before me in their younger years—a future full of the truest and most complete love. I am pleased to say the invitation was heeded with a beautiful outcome.

What is the most beautiful thing you have ever learned?

What is the most beautiful thing you have ever learned? How did you know it?

I have found that few, if anyone, can answer this question without reflection and a long pause. Contemplation is in order for this one as the outcome can lead you to a highly-desired destination—happiness.

At Revolution in Education, our thirst is for cultivating learning, understanding, and wisdom. As such, I would like to ask you to ponder these questions as we explore our responses during the month of March.

What is the most beautiful thing you have ever learned? How did you know it?

Every Thursday I meet with members of the senior class at John Adams Academy. Last week, I posed these questions and I got some great responses.

The first response was from a young man who said, “I know this may sound or seem weird to you all, but I really love my parents. I like talking to them. If I have a question or problem, I like discussing it with them. It’s amazing, but they usually know the answers. If they don’t, they help me find the solution. That’s one of the most beautiful things I have learned.”

Another young lady had an epiphany as we were discussing economics and, in particular, a statement by philosopher and economist Adam Smith, author of The Wealth of Nations. He said, “Wealth is not gold and silver but the essentials of life—food, clothes, houses, transportation, communications, schools, good roads, factories, and well-cultivated farms…..that if you want an increased standard of living and prosperity, goods and services should be abundant and cheap.” (Smith, Adam. The Wealth of Nations. Wordsworth Editions, 2012.)  She then piped up and said, “My mother keeps telling me to get a good education so I will be financially successful. But for me wealth is found in helping others because of the way it makes me feel. I helped some younger scholars here at the school this past week, and I loved how I felt while I was doing it.”

The exchange reminded me of a brief clip of Dr. Victor Frankl as he spoke to some college students who had “make a lot of money” as their goal. Watch Dr. Frankl fervidly teach the students how to search for meaning and find a will, instead of money, in their lives.

Deeper into the discussion, another scholar surmised that being able to look at a formula in calculus and prove it was beautiful. Another mentioned the beauty of the number 3 and its repetition in the world: three primary colors, the triangle—which is the strongest geometric form, three special dimensions in geometry, the Godhead in the Bible, three wise men, three days in the tomb, three days in the belly of the whale, three denials of Christ by Peter, three core principles in Islam, the Three Jewels that Buddhists take refuge in, etc. The symmetry of this was a great beauty to this scholar. Another loved the connection of the Bible to others and to serving them. Another talked about joy and its definition of contentment. For another it was finding a missing puzzle piece and how it completed the art. For another it was rereading The Chosen a year later from the first reading and how so many new understandings came to light.

I was present at the birth of each one of my children. With Linda, I witnessed each one take their first breath. I recalled thinking each time that creating life was a great miracle. Then came my own epiphany: I discovered that God had shared his greatest gift—giving life—with me. At each of those births I was a key player in the beauty of creating life with Linda and God. There is that beautiful number three again, forming a solid triangle of husband, wife and God and wife, husband and child. I then remember singing these words from the hymn “How Great Thou Art” quietly to myself as I wept for joy.

Oh Lord, my God

When I, in awesome wonder

Consider all the worlds Thy hands have made

I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder

Thy power throughout the universe displayed

Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee

How great Thou art, how great Thou art

Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee

How great Thou art, how great Thou art

That was the most beautiful thing I have learned. What is yours? How did you know it?