Deferred Success¹

10-28-07

Now I want you to think about this next question. You don’t have to raise your hands and identify yourselves. Have any of you ever got an ‘F’ on a test or paper, or even the dreaded report card? Oh what a terrible, terrible, feeling. I get butterflies just thinking about my first ‘F’. It was on a math test. And while I didn’t fail the class I remember that feeling of walking home with a report card, the sweat dripping through my shirt. What about the dread of bringing home the paper with the big red "F" on top of it and dreading the consequences of the near future; no more sports, hanging with friends, no more television, no more youth group, until that grade comes up.

Getting an "F," seems to be the ultimate worst-case scenario in academic achievement - so bad that the school system skipped an entire letter of the alphabet going from "D" straight to the big red F of failure. Have you noticed that? Why not just give an "E" as the lowest grade? Oh no! That might be interpreted as excellent. Let’s make it quite clear it’s an "F" for failure, fiasco, fault, fake, farce, fatigue, fatality, feeble, flawed, flop, frail, fumble, farewell!

It is hard to be motivated with a big F staring back at you. It is hard to feel smart enough, or worthy of a degree or diploma when you are told that you just don’t get it. The letter is so much more than an image of failure. It feels like an indicator of your future abilities. And all students know, one or two tests can lead to a drop in the GPA, and one’s imagination to go wild as we imagine that big fat file folder with our permanent records that will ruin the rest of our school careers! To all the students out there: be at peace, I don’t even remember my high school or college GPA any more. I’m doing okay now. Work hard and know that your future holds many possibilities.

Of course, there should be some expectations and guidelines for academic excellence. Otherwise, I think only a portion of those students, for whom school is mandatory, would put a whole-hearted effort into their education. There should be some sort of grade or process to combat academic laziness…to make sure our students can succeed out in the real world of bills, and jobs, and other important responsibilities. We do want some information to stick.

There has been some discussions about alternatives to a pass/fail system. In the UK, for example, some teachers recently proposed that schools remove the big red "F" from their teacherly tools, and replace it with the phrase "deferred success." Rather than scar a student for struggling academically, the teachers suggest that we should give these students time and instruction to turn "failure" into success.²  After all, a student may have successfully completed 1/3 of a test accurately. That should count for something. Others argue that students need to learn that in the real world we have failures and we have successes, and changing our language and process of scoring isn’t going to do students any favors.

One thing we can all agree on, is that learning is a process of successes and failures, of knowledge and luck, of risk and mistakes. Nonetheless, I think there is value in reevaluating our notion of failure. Let’s forget the classroom for a moment and think of your lives in general. Instead of throwing our hands up in defeat at every failure, wouldn’t it be more helpful to think of failure as a step toward meaningful success? Failure can become a tool of learning. If we take some time to reflect on it. The whole idea of "deferred success" is based on the principle that learning is a process rather than an event. Reflecting on successes and failures provide a better overall assessment of a student’s ability to learn and process information.

Students in school and students in life, should be encouraged to look at experiences and events in terms of what they do well, not necessarily what they do not do well. What we fail at may be a warning or a lesson, but should not define our lives and actions. If accurate self-evaluation is the key to success, then the apostle Paul has a lot to teach us. Paul’s own self-assessment in his letter to the Philippians (chapt. 4) reveals that prior to the Damascus Road, he was a student who had passed his religious exams with flying colors. He was a Pharisee that lived his life in religious zeal. He followed every rule, and had a lot of social and spiritual power in the life of his community. After that day, though, Paul would look at that transcript and realize that it was all "junk" (vv. 7-8). After his conversion experience, he threw his permanent record, those things he thought were important, in the trash and started over by learning to redefine success by his relationship with Christ. He learned that life was not about winning the race, but running the race.

By the time Paul wrote his letter to Timothy, Paul had been many places, converted many people, been stoned, thrown in jail several times, chased out of town, and even rejected by his own people. Paul was in prison in Rome, for the final time before his death. As he writes this letter, he is awaiting word on his fate. Notice that Paul doesn’t spend his last hours recalling his successes and failures, writing about how many lives he introduced to Christ. He does not recall the churches he helped to establish, or the sermons he has preached. No, Paul probably never really saw the end result of his work. There’s no quantified list of accomplishments, no report card, no letters of commendation or honorary degrees.

Here’s the thing though, during Paul’s lifetime, many of the churches he helped to establish weren’t doing so great. They fought with each other, wavered from theology to theology, had questionable leaders, and some didn’t look like they would survive. If that wasn’t enough to dishearten Paul, some of the people he trusted the most abandoned him at critical moments. He may have gotten an "E" for effort, but he certainly wasn’t astounding in his own time. To look at his works in his lifetime, one may not be too horribly impressed.

Yet as he sits in a jail cell, reflecting on his life, Paul doesn’t dwell on his failures or his success, his only concern is that he had done his best and stayed faithful to his calling. He has "fought the good fight," and "finished the race" (2 Timothy 4:7). These are both metaphors from the Olympic or Greek games, in which the athletes would take an oath in front of the crowd that they would give their all and compete fairly. That is really all we can control in this journey we call life. We can choose to give our best effort and to treat others fairly, and sometimes we will fail miserably. Yet, having reached the end of his journey, Paul was not concerned about winning any reward or accolades, he was satisfied with the knowledge that he had "kept the faith" and run the course of his life and ministry with God beside him all the way (v. 17). It’s not about winning. Notice that Paul doesn’t mention anything about winning the fight or the race — just competing to the best of his ability. The only prize he could expect would be the "crown of righteousness" given to those like him who had persevered and finished well (v. 8).

Oh lordy, we like our trophies and our framed plaques to hang on the wall. We love to put those good report cards up on the fridge, and hear our accomplishments listed when introduced to a crowd. We work hard to be winners and don’t like being losers. Paul’s words seem to run counter to the values of a culture that clearly differentiates between winners and losers, successes and failures. The pressure on kids to make the grade and on adults to produce results and win at all costs often manifests itself in stress-related illnesses, unethical behavior and a crisis of self-esteem. Sometimes we are so afraid of failing that we are afraid to even try. Then we let learning opportunities pass us by.

What would happen, though, if we were to understand our failures as an opportunity to simply defer success? When we really think about it, that is what God’s grace is all about. While we experience the consequences of our mistakes and failures, we also know that God is a God of second chances. Like a good teacher, God is patient with us, corrects us, reorients our thinking, and helps us see new possibilities. Our failures provide the opportunity for reflection and for future growth. We are running a marathon. We will feel weak and spiritually, emotionally, and physically dehydrated along the way. We may even stumble a bit. We can’t all be the smartest, fastest, most successful, but then again the life of discipleship was never about those things to begin with. Many of us may never see the results of our work. Any success we might enjoy is often deferred until later, maybe even after we’re long gone. But the goal for us is simply to live faithfully. Our call is to do our very best and leave the results to God. And for that you get an "F" for FANTASTIC! Thanks be to God. Amen