Joe's Choice

Joe was really excited about coaching freshman sports so close to the Mexican border where most of his students crossed every morning. Even having to teach ninth grade science put a smile on his face. His kids marveled at the rudimentary experiments he set up for them—old hat to many American-born students. It was challenging to him to reach back for the Spanish of his childhood, to be teaching kids who wore the same clothes day after day, because that was all they had. He knew he was a role model for many of them, quite possibly the one consistent adult male in their lives. And he wasn’t even that old.

He shot hoops with some of the older kids after school, played a little ball with his friends on the weekends, and now and then drove north to LA to see his family. He wasn’t racking up the big bucks by any means, but his expenses were minimal…as long as his Celica held out.

One Thursday in April his principal, Ms. Cast, called him in. He barely knew her and couldn’t call her by her first name yet. She’d hired him at the last minute in the fall when the previous coach/science teacher retired abruptly. Once school started there was so much to cover that they hadn’t had a real conversation at all. So when she looked up from her desk as he walked in, he realized he had no idea what her agenda might be.

Motioning him to a seat in front of her desk, she got right to the point. “Joe,” she said, “I don’t know if you’ve been aware that there is a new high school opening up in North County.” He wasn’t. “And I don’t know,” she continued, “if you realize that I’m going to be leaving to open the new school.” No, he didn’t, he said.

“Joe, I’m building a team to join me and I’m looking for teachers like you who really invest in the students’ lives. I’ve seen you hanging out here after school playing ball with the 9th grade boys. I want someone like you to come with me. It’s a brand new building. No graffiti, no rusty lockers, no worn out grass. The kids are from more intact families, more economically sound, so that will mean more parental involvement.”

The principal smiled—a smile that reached into her eyes. “And here’s the best part, Joe. I want you to run the entire athletic program. You’ll have all the money you need. We might even have enough money to hire another teacher so you don’t have to teach freshman science.”

Joe sat back in his seat, dazzled by the sudden attention. And though Ms. Cast went on about his opportunities, the young teacher’s mind was on one thing—I can get rid of the Celica!

They talked for awhile, strategized a little, dreamed together about the athletic program, and when they shook hands they had agreed that Joe would confirm his decision with her by the following weekend. They both had broad smiles and a pretty strong feeling they would be working together for years to come.

Joe left school that day without playing ball. The boys watched him drive away in his battered car. He waved finally but they’d turned away before they saw it.

He hit the interstate and exited at the Mile of Cars, driving slowly, slowly, down the road with his eye out for good deals and good wheels. He hadn’t even allowed himself to think about a new car, so his mind was open to anything. All afternoon and into the evening he stopped and talked and test-drove and negotiated. At a quick dinner at Wendy’s he went over all the brochures.

Friday the boys were all over him, begging him to stay after and work with them on the basketball court. He’d planned to continue his car research, but he acquiesced, making sure they knew they couldn’t always talk him into changing his plans.

Saturday morning he drove his rusty Celica to LA for the weekend with his parents. He walked into their tiny little house, neat and clean and great smelling, and told his mom and dad about Ms. Cast’s—or rather, Elaine’s—offer. They were so proud of him! They saw him rising above their own lives, making the kind of money that would ensure he could afford a house and a good wife, and be accepted in the communities of the well-to-do, the communities where some of their friends did all the yard work.

That night, stretched out in his old bed, his toes hanging off the end, Joe stared at the glowing stars and planets that were still stuck on his ceiling. What an opportunity he had before him! He smiled in the dark, yet even as he did he was aware of the beginnings of an inner struggle. He’d had them before and recognized the symptoms.

He went back over Elaine’s invitation and all the plans they’d considered in her office. Something was niggling at his brain, though, and he went to sleep not nearly as excited as his mother was.

Sunday morning he joined his parents at their little church down the street. The pastor had known him since 5th grade and had been one of the more significant male role models in Joe’s life. He pulled Joe off to the side after the service to catch up on things. He’d been the major reason Joe became a teacher, and Joe treasured his counsel. Walking back to his office, Joe filled him in on his present life and future opportunity. His pastor listened quietly with a small smile on his face and then spoke.

“Joe, what are you really committed to? What lights a fire in your gut? What captures your heart and your imagination? What do you really want to give your life to?”

The young man sat there quietly for a long time, taking each question in turn, trying to pinpoint the nuances of what his pastor was getting at.

When his pastor excused himself for a moment and walked out of the room, Joe got up, too, walking over to the window. Thinking back over the last month, he tried to visualize the highlights. And he kept coming back to a bunch of faces, boys’ faces, some grinning with mischief, some tear-stained, some angry and belligerent.

The pastor walked back into the room with two cold Cherry Cokes in hand. And Joe was ready with his answer. He spoke about “his” boys and a few of their stories, and then his mentor brought the whole discussion around to one point.

“God has given you a gift, Joe, and a perfect place to use it. He wants you to be radical for Him, to choose the way that might not make sense to the rest of the world, but gives you opportunity to BE Him for others. Of course He can use you at the new school. But who will take your place at the old one?”

Joe left LA that afternoon in his good old Celica. She had another year in her, he was sure.

What do you think of Joe’s choice?

We are firmly convinced that a transformed society begins with transformed individuals, living out the principles God builds within them. As we increase our ability to think biblically we can start to live rightly. We will begin to “walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, bearing fruit in every good work,” as Colossians 1:10 says.

If we are living righteously, we’ll align our actions as well as our thoughts with the Word of God. Our life will reflect Christ in the marketplace as well as at home. There should be no distinction between the character of our private life or our public one. We should live with integrity—whole, faithful, and consistent. What you see is what you get.

What is God asking you to do?  Ask Him to help your words, actions and thoughts better align with His word.

By Bill Bright and Ron Jenson

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