Psalm 78 is a maskil, an artful song that includes didactic elements to be recited in the presence of the community. Preaching is maskil. So is teaching, whether it is found in the church house or in the school house.  In Psalm 78 the sanctioned curriculum that has been passed down through generations for the sake of the children¹ is summarized in verse 4, the “glorious deeds of the LORD, and his might, and the wonders that he has done.” Freedom and fidelity are highlighted in order “to inspire hope and obedience in the hearers and, indeed, in all subsequent generations.”²  This is the purpose of education wherever it takes place, moving beyond rote repetition to provide each learner the possibility of a future better than what might otherwise be expected. Psalm 78 invites humility, gratitude, and “the exercise of power in the form of love, not of force.”³

 

When we read the whole psalm, we discover that this curriculum is not just about spiritual subjects such as prayer and faith. Since it is difficult to teach a person who is hungry, thirsty, and homeless, God takes care of Israel’s physical needs, providing water from a rock, manna from heaven, and a promised land. 

 

We have found something similar to be true in our public schools. Because educating everyone is our task, the school day begins for some students with breakfast. After a few classes comes a free lunch. On Friday some of them

take home an extra backpack filled with food for the weekend. Social workers deal with the needs of homeless students, who are as thirsty for drink as they are for knowledge. Teachers tell the coming generation what they need to know. For some they provide stability unknown anywhere else. And they impart love – love for learning, love for self, love for neighbor, love for the creation in which we live.

 

In the last fifty-some years, it has been made clear the compulsory segregation of the races in public schools will not be tolerated. In June 2007, the United States Supreme Court struck down voluntary race-conscious student assign-

ment plans in Seattle, WA and Jefferson County, KY. While Justice Anthony Kennedy agreed with the majority that the two plans were unconstitutional, he also said the following, “This Nation has a moral and ethical obligation to fulfill its historic commitment to creating an integrated society that ensures equal opportunity for all of its children.  A compelling interest exists in avoiding racial isolation, an interest that a school district, in its discretion and expertise, may choose to pursue. Likewise, a district may consider it a compelling interest to achieve a diverse student population.… The decision today should not prevent school districts from continuing the important work of bringing together students of different racial, ethnic, and economic backgrounds” (June 28, 2007).  Without knowing it, Justice Kennedy may have been lifting up the past and our failures in order to help us in the present prepare for the future. He may even have sounded a note from Psalm 78.

 

How we will educate everyone, of course, remains to be seen. In the era of No Child Left Behind, public education requires accountability at every level. Teachers are accountable for making sure that students learn. Parents are accountable for getting their children to school prepared to learn. Students are accountable for making the grade, becoming proficient, and passing the test. In the process, education can become overly technical, even losing access to the stories that make a difference in student’s lives. 

 

Public education reform has not yet found a way to close achievement gaps measured by race, ethnic background, or economic status. For the most part, public policy has focused on what happens in the schools. Expectations are too low, we are told. Teachers are not highly-qualified. Curricula are badly designed. Classes are too large. School climates are not disciplined. Leadership is not focused. Or it’s a combination of these factors. 

 

“Americans have come to the conclusion that the achievement gap is the fault of ‘failing schools,’” writes Richard Rothstein, “because it makes no common sense that it could be otherwise. After all, how much money a family has, or the color of a child’s skin, should not influence how well that child learns to read. If teachers know how to teach reading, or math, or any other subject, and if schools emphasize the importance of these tasks and permit no distractions, children

should be able to learn these subjects whatever their family income or skin color.” While that sounds like common sense, it overlooks a number of social and cultural characteristics that influence learning in school. Rothstein calls these “a collection of occupational, psychological, personality, health, and economic traits that interact, predicting performance not only in schools but in other institutions as well.”⁴  Among these are styles of rearing children; ways of disciplining children; different ways of communicating expectations; different ways of reading to children; health, especially regarding vision and hearing; adequate vs. substandard housing; student mobility; homelessness; differences in the accumulation of wealth; and attitudes toward education and work. While none of these is determinative on its own, taken together they can affect student achievement. These are not excuses for the failure to educate everyone who comes through the school house door. They are, however, factors that the whole community, including houses of worship, must address together. 

 

From Egypt to Canaan, Psalm 78 declares that God leads us, cares for us, loves us, teaches us. The faith community has taken this movement from slavery to freedom seriously and has advocated for equal opportunity, equal education,

and equal treatment under the law.  May it be so for the coming generations.

 

1 James Limburg, Psalms, Westminster Bible Companion (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2000), 266.