How Do You Know You're Effective?

Experience in teaching doesn't tend to sharpen my abilities; rather it dulls them. Evaluated experience improves my skills.
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A pharmacist and his wife trusted Christ and enrolled in my course on the Christian home. After only a few sessions they came to me and said, "We never knew we had a problem until we started to study the Scripture. We thought all marriages were as troubled as ours." My wife and I stayed in touch with this couple as they began to deal with new insights. Not only did their marriage improve, they also saw radical changes in their children. Meanwhile I saw that the gospel I taught was clearly life-changing.
Often, however, the effects of our teaching won't be fully seen until a crisis. One of my students, for example, may not show a lot of outward change in her conduct, but when her father or mother dies suddenly, and she works through her grief with a strong trust in God, dedicating herself even more deeply to serve the Lord, I know that the seeds I planted have taken root. Nothing reveals what's growing under the soil like a spiritual test. So that's another time I can evaluate the effectiveness of my teaching.
I also try to note the class's immediate reaction to my teaching. I'm suspicious of my teaching if people just pack their belongings and walk out of the room when class ends. I know I've done something right when students "whoosh" to the front and besiege me with questions.
Effective teaching has to provoke something, unsettle some cherished notions, open people's eyes to things they've never realized. Effective truth is a catalyst in the minds and emotions, causing a spiritual reaction. If I'm doing my job—provoking people to think about things in a way they never have—I'll hear about it.
I also watch keenly for a change in values. Ultimately that's where all change begins. After a recent teaching series, a man in our church said to me, "I don't know where I've been all my life. I can't believe I could be that far removed from the real target."
"What do you think the real target is?" I asked.
"Well, I've suddenly realized my family is my greatest asset. I've been selling my soul for a mess of pottage."
Even if I can't follow that man around and see whether he's spending more time with his family, I know his values have shifted.
I also look for other key attitudes, especially an increasing hunger for God and his righteousness. Are people starting to fall in love with the Lord? Is there some evidence of the supernatural in their lives? Are people being delivered from self? Are they starting to care about others?
Does my teaching communicate? That's not hard to evaluate. For one thing, if I don't have enough illustrations to bring light into my material, it will fall short. So I can look at my notes and count the number of illustrations.
I can also look at the number of stories I tell. Narratives improve communication. Whether stories come from the Bible, my personal experience, the newspaper, or other people, I know that my people won't identify as well with my messages without them.
Dale Carnegie discovered this right from the start. When he began in New York, he had 27 or so people in his first class. The students were only required to pay him a week at a time, so if they didn't enjoy it, they wouldn't come back. He knew if he didn't connect, he was finished.
In his first class, he ran out of material before the hour was up. In a panic he called a fellow from the front row to come to the front of the class, and he started asking him questions about his life. The guy talked, and the class was interested. He learned that people are interested in people's stories.
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