As you may know, I took the looong route to obtaining my bachelor’s degree in Structural Engineering. I call it “The Nine-Year” plan. I started my higher ed journey quite traditionally, attending a reputable engineering school. But after the first quarter of my junior year, I dropped out, precipitated by various circumstances related to finances, lack of a sense of purpose, the Vietnam War, etc. I took a position with a local company with whom I had been employed in the engineering department (drafting) since my junior year of high school.
Within a few months of leaving school, I continued my pursuit of a degree in engineering. I commuted an hour after work to the University of Minnesota, taking many degree-fulfilling courses available through the extension program. Unfortunately, some of the required courses were unavailable through the extension program.
So, to complete the final 30 credits toward a degree, I took a two-quarter leave of absence. One of the required courses unavailable via the extension program was engineering physics. Physics proved to be a larger challenge than I had anticipated. I was several years removed from using calculus and the metric system. The pace was break-neck with a rhythm of 1-2 chapters/topics per week and an exam every two weeks. I knew the key to surviving and thriving in college-level math and engineering classes was to work problems – as many as possible, especially via a study group. Amazingly, I knew a couple guys in the class of 150 and we formed such a group.
My physics professor proved to be one of the best professors I ever had. I don’t remember his name, but I surely remember him. He knew his physics, but more importantly, he knew his audience. I remember him dedicating class the day before an exam to address questions we had. We were free to ask about the practice problems from the book that stumped us (“we,” of course, meaning all 150 of us).
He was brilliant in his approach. He would merely set up a problem, then casually remark, “You will be able to take it from here.” His approach allowed him to address 15-20 different problems – exactly what we needed. We didn’t need him to work a problem out to completion. We only needed him to get us started, sketch out the problem, and point us in the right direction. He set us up to “get it.” He didn’t do the work for us – he merely pointed us in the right direction.
How good of a professor was he? He made dreaded physics enjoyable. I learned! I started to “get it.” My presuppositions of engineering physics faded. He set me up to get an “A” in the class, a grade that didn’t come easy for me in college.

Two of my favorite authors, Dallas Willard and Howard Hendricks, both reminded readers that Jesus is the smartest person in the universe and that we would do well to learn from him. He was the best prof (rabbi) ever. He knew his material (the Hebrew Scriptures) and his audience (his apprentices, the religious leaders, and the general populous). He also stayed true to his purpose as a teacher—the proclamation and explanation of the nature of the kingdom of God which had arrived with his appearance.
The kingdom of God is an elusive concept lost on most of us for various reasons. Two-thirds of Jesus’ parables and most of his main discourses (i.e., the Sermon on the Mount) focused on the good news (gospel) of the kingdom’s arrival. Unfortunately, the kingdom of God has become equated to simply “heaven,” a place we go after we die. Such reduction of the gospel does injustice to the kingdom Jesus ushered in. Reading scripture through this narrow lens hinders our ability to fully grasp the true nature of God’s kingdom.
The same was true for the first-century adherents of Judaism. The people were familiar with a coming kingdom but didn’t fully grasp its true nature. They were aware, through less than stellar professors (the religious leaders), that God’s kingdom would arrive someday, but it would arrive in power and glory, overthrowing the pagan kingdoms. The kingdom of God had been reduced to a form of nationalism. Jesus’ teaching aimed to dismantle and challenge their false presuppositions.
For 30-40 years, I found it challenging to reconcile Jesus’ central message about the arrival of God’s kingdom with the teaching I often heard, which emphasized getting to heaven. Closely following the means to heaven attainment were sets of ethics to follow until we finally get to depart this earth. There was no kingdom. There was no explanation of the kingdom’s nature. Most of Jesus’ kingdom teaching was reduced to moralism—behavior modification. There was no transformation. There was no life.
In his recent posthumously written book, The Scandal of the Kingdom, Dallas Willard offers a conceptual understanding of a kingdom…
A kingdom is a society of people with a structure in which there is one person, a king or queen, to whom all the citizens offer loyalty, service and respect. The sovereign’s part of this relationship is to provide care, protection, and service for the good of the people.
The Hebrew Scriptures contain the story of God and his people, warts and all. Threaded through the narrative are stories that point people to an understanding of a King who provided care, protection, and service for the good of the people (think righteousness, justice, love, and faithfulness—see It’s Foundational). We know this story—the people struggled to embrace God as their king.
The foundational story was highjacked in favor of sets of ethical rules to ensure correct behavior. The professors became moral guardians. No transformation and certainly not life-giving. Jesus’ task was to wrestle the false concept of God’s kingdom away from the highjackers and help the people understand the nature of what was really at hand. Wrestle away? It appears Jesus suggested that’s exactly what he needed to do…
From the days of John the Baptist until now, the kingdom of [God] has been subjected to violence, and violent people have been raiding it. (Matthew 11:12, NIV)
How was Jesus a stellar professor? He brought people back to the story of God and his people. He pointed people to the intent and nature of the Torah, not just the letter of the law, as the highjackers had done. He pointed people to an understanding of a kingdom where the King offered a covenant loyalty and asked the people to respond accordingly.
His stories and discourses wrestled a moralistic and ethical kingdom concept from the moral guardians and gave the people a different kingdom concept. He didn’t provide people with exacting instructions on how to live. Instead, he told stories of what life in the kingdom could look like and invited hearers to become subjects. He told stories that reversed the moralistic view of the kingdom and pointed to a different “ethic.” Oh, and his stories indicated that the kingdom was for anyone and everyone. All were invited.
Like my physics professor, Jesus didn’t work out all the details. He told stories that described the nature of God’s kingdom. He sketched out the concept of the presence of God’s kingdom and let them “take it from there.” And many “got it”—those who had ears to hear. He simply pointed people in the right direction and then said…
“Follow me.”



