For two-and-a-half years Susannah and I taught a Wednesday night class at Cornerstone. For two years we had a Sunday class.

Susannah led the teaching for the most part, though I would step in from time to time. Somewhere in the last year, we segued away from teaching lessons (stories) to teaching the scripture memorization literature from Scripture Memory Fellowship.

That all ended this month after a lot of burnout and some other considerations I won’t go into right now.

But due to a scheduling conflict, we were given a bonus week and we decided to play the SMF game “Tic Tac Know,” a kind of combination of Tic-Tac-Toe and Bible trivia. It can actually be a pretty good instructional tool, but some of the questions are pretty esoteric for 8-year-old children.

(Real example — Q: Jesus said the Pharisees are like what? A: Ravening wolves.)

And that is where the fun began.

Susannah was having a hard time finding a card that the students would know, so she finally decided to make one up.

“What do you do to be saved?” she asked.

We were met with blank stares. This was when I knew we were in trouble. Two years teaching, and we get blank stares to, “What do you do to be saved?”

Slowly, one of the students raised his hand.

“Ummmm…Be baptized?”

I was tempted to give him the point for a second; after all, II Peter 3:21 says baptism saves us. But Mark 16:16 says that those who believe and are baptized will be saved, so even if I was going to give him credit, he was still missing half of the equation.

Besides, he was guessing.

Then, another student shot her hand up and blurted out, “You get prayed for, and then you try to not be bad.”

At this point, we were hanging our heads.

No, we said, to be saved you believe on the Lord Jesus Christ.

Oh, they said. Yeah, that.

So, next question, this one directly from the game: what are three proofs of Christ’s bodily resurrection?

Again, silence.

At this point, I would have taken anything, even, “You ask me how I know he lives — he lives within my heart.”

Instead, one student, mulling it over said, “Easter.”

Yes, we said, Easter is when we celebrate that Jesus raised from the dead. But how do we know that he was raised?

“Well,” she said, “I know that he was killed at Christmas.”

The answers only got more creative, including, “Like if his skin was still there (in the tomb), but he wasn’t?”

The hysterical nature of the entire event was only compounded by the fact that Susannah had a little trouble spitting out the question, and ended up asking for three proofs of Christ’s bodily erection, not unlike the time the pastor kept saying that our prayers are a sweet incest to God.

We made it through the rest of the night without any more serious hiccups if you don’t count one very defiant second-grader who refused to obey, but the entire experience was a pretty solid cap on the end of our teaching experience.

We taught these children for two years. Genesis. Exodus. The Gospels. Scores and scores of scripture about salvation, God’s promises and eternal life.

And this was how it ended.

Lord, have mercy.

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