Sam Matteson
Physics, University of North Texas
What distinction does my confession really make in my profession? Am I a Christian who happens to be a college professor —- or am I a college professor who happens to be a Christian?
For me a defining moment came during a meeting with our outgoing dean over the explosive issue of splitting up our College of Arts and Sciences. I heard chair after chair tell the dean what she wanted to hear: “Unity! Unity! Circle the wagons,” they intoned. I kept uncharacteristically silent until the chair of chemistry handed me a lightening rod, saying “I would like to hear what Sam has to say.”
I stammered out “I don’t know what the wisest course is, but I do know what my faculty are saying: ‘In the long run physics would fare better in a College of Science than in the current arrangement.’”
Deathly Silent
The room was deathly quiet. Then lightening struck. “Who says this?” asked the dean. She named two professors. “Yes, they among others,” I replied.
“I think that you may be surprised,” she countered. “Physics may have too many resources already and may be due for a reallocation.” Turning to the other 20 chairs she asked, “Do any of the rest of you feel the same way?” There was silence. Three working days later I was fired as chair.
I was hurt. How dare the dean remove me! I knew that I served at the pleasure of the dean; I knew that she was within her right to appoint and remove any chair. I said it to colleagues; I thought I meant it; but I did not feel it.
That is, until I was visited by an angel — not a winged being, but a small messenger for God in the backseat of an auto stopped in front of me at an intersection. The child was looking at me. So I smiled and waved. He waved back, in the same way I did. So I saluted. He saluted. I wiggled my finger and he aped it.
Then it hit me! God said to me, “Sam, it is not for you alone that you are suffering and you must obey me. There are many others watching to see if your faith makes any difference in how you act.” I remembered James’ words, “Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says.” [James 1:22]
A Momento
I silently forgave her. She probably never considered her actions as needing forgiveness, but I knew I needed it for my sake. Two weeks later, the dean resigned her position and prepared to move to another university. I was compelled to demonstrate forgiveness concretely, and so presented her with an engraved clock.
“I want you to know that I have no hard feelings,” I told her. “Please accept this as a memento of our time together. And when you look at it don’t think about the times we crossed swords, but think about what we were able to accomplish together.”
Three months later, the interim dean reappointed me. But that was not the victory; instead the triumph came when God taught me a lesson bigger than academic politics. It was not my nature to forgive. I’m not that nice a guy. But I learned a little more that day of our Father’s extraordinary grace, a little more of what it means to be a Christian on campus.
© Samuel Matteson 2006