
Claire Bischoff was first inspired to become a religion teacher as a student at Cretin-Derham Hall in St. Paul. Now, three decades later, she’s teaching religion there. The 47-year-old mom of three belongs to Lumen Christi in St. Paul. This season, she’s finding ways to slow down and soak up Advent.
Q) Tell me about your experience in religion class as a Cretin-Derham student.
A) I came into high school thinking that religion was reading a textbook and memorizing the right answers for a test and reciting the prayers you’ve been taught. Then my ninth-grade religion teacher, Mr. Gleich, took us for a day of service at a halfway house, where we sat and listened to residents tell their stories and then worked the kitchen line ladling out soup. It was the first time I came into contact with people whose life stories were so different from my own. To link that to religion –– something we do on Sunday morning but also take out into the world to help the people who are most marginalized –– made a huge difference for me. You have to bring something of yourself when you do that, in a way that rote prayers and memorized answers don’t require.
Then in my sophomore year of school, I had Mr. Watkins, who was very much an intellectual, and I learned that religion could invite deep thinking and deep questions and good conversations. To know that could be part of religion also opened it up for me. I could enter into these conversations that have been going on for centuries: “Who is this Jesus guy?”
Q) Faith and reason.
A) It’s simple, but it means a lot. And looking at all the denominations in Christianity, they don’t all do that. That’s something I’ve always appreciated about the Catholic tradition: There is that invitation to the intellectual. To me, (Pope) Francis’ “Laudato Si’” is a beautiful example. We’re going to pay attention to what the environmental scientists say and what the social scientists say and we’re going to do the theological studies and then we’re going to put all that together. Then we’re getting faithful and well-reasoned answers to a really huge problem. I teach that to my students as often as I can squeeze “Laudato i”’ into my class. It’s a great way for them to see how we can approach it.
So many people have that question: Can we listen to science and also believe in God? Some of my students are not aware that the Catholic Church’s answer is yes.
Q) It’s great you invite in the teens who come to the reason side more naturally than the faith side.
A) Creating that space is so important. I ask my students: Did you know there’s more than one way to read the Bible? And there’s more than one way to pray. There are more ways for people to connect with religion. It’s what my religion teachers did for me. I was given different ways to connect to religion –– ways that fit for me –– which is why I’m still connected to the Church.
Q) You’ve also been deeply influenced by the Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet, whose mission is to love God and dear neighbor without distinction. How do you live that out?
A) I really try to see God in each of my students and get to know them. Hopefully my students feel comfortable sharing whatever they want to share. They don’t have to share answers that they think match my own opinions. I try to keep that close to the vest.
I take pride in the fact that I have students who come from all across the political and religious spectrum who come to me to talk about things.
Q) It could be tempting to judge or classify your students as a kind of shortcut. It takes more time and work to really get to know each one.
A) It does. Mostly what it takes is emotional energy. One of the freedoms of being in my 40s has been a real clarity on my top priorities: my kids and my students. I don’t have energy for other things on top of that –– or if I do other things, I won’t have the energy to give to these primary groups of people I feel responsible for. Part of being able to create that space for my kids and my students is saying no to the things that don’t serve that. So, I’m not on any boards, and I’m not part of any clubs. I really direct my energy toward those two groups. That is the wisdom that comes with age.
Q) Yes, and lacking ego, feeling secure enough to decline invitations that are flattering or roles that bring some status.
A) You’re right. If you would’ve told me as a graduate student that I’d be teaching high school and not doing any writing, I would’ve said, “What?!” Back then, I was still on that advancement mode. For the most part, I’ve been able to let that go.
When I see people who were graduate colleagues who published a new book or are a named professor chair at Yale, there’s a little bit of me that thinks, “Ooh, I’m not doing that.” But then I walk into the classroom, and it’s like, “Yup, this is who I’m supposed to be with.” And when I go home, having a comfort and clarity. These are the people I’m called to be with right now. And this is a season of life. I may be able to do other things at another time. I don’t have to keep climbing this ladder if it’s not serving me and the needs of the world and what God’s calling me to do.
Q) As a parent of teens and a teacher of students, what’s your perspective: Is it harder to be a teen now?
A) I definitely think it’s harder. It feels like the stress has been ratcheted up. And I’m saying this as someone who was class valedictorian, a three-sport varsity athlete, I wrote for the school paper. I was very busy. But it feels like the stakes are much higher now. A student might ask to start a club because it’s going to look good on a college application. There are way more AP (advanced placement) classes offered now and a real push to take the highest level. Financially, they know how expensive college is going to be, so there’s an incentive to knock out a couple of college credits.
Q) Yes, and urgency and competitiveness creep in earlier. It’s evident in the professionalization of youth sports.
A) Right. And then there’s the technology. When students have phones, they’re never doing one thing at a time. I will always remember a sermon given by the former pastor at Lumen Christi. He said something that connects all forms of spirituality –– across the globe and across the centuries –– is trying to help us be more present in the present. Phones make it harder for young people to get any practice at that. On social media, there’s the comparison game. With Snap Map (a feature on the Snapchat app), everybody knows where everybody is. They’re being asked to navigate all this as their bodies and souls and brains are still developing.
Q) Cretin implemented a stricter cellphone policy this school year, requiring that students lock their phones in a Yondr pouch all day –– even during lunch.
A) I know for the students it’s hard, but we’ve seen really positive results. I see a lot more conversation with students during our middle-of-the-day break, which is a split between lunch and time in homeroom. They’re having to be creative. Frequently I have students playing hangman on my board. I have a couple students come and use the seasonal color sheets I set out with markers and colored pencils. We’ve had better interactions in class because there’s one less distraction.
I’m not anti-technology. But students having their phones with them all the time, to me, is one of the biggest challenges to their spirituality. When I feel most myself and most connected to God, my phone is usually not on.
Q) What do you do for fun?
A) My friend and I are three weeks into an adult hip-hop class, and it’s the silliest and funniest. I’ve also been dabbling in watercolor and having so much fun.
The older I get, the more I notice that what’s fun for me –– both dance and painting –– (is when) you really are present in the moment. The things that are fun are also spiritual practices. The playing and creativity and being open to what’s going to happen –– it’s life giving. It helps me stoke the joy and the love.
Q) How do you observe Advent?
A) We’re very much an Advent-wreath-on-the-dinner-table sort of family –– to have that pause in the day to light the candles and pray before our meal. Part of leaning into that feeling of Advent –– of waiting and preparing –– may be easier living in Minnesota, when it’s dark so early and you feel like putting on your pajamas at 6 p.m. and cuddling up on the couch to read a book or watch a movie. I work hard not to overschedule our December. You don’t have to do it all. There was one year when we went to see the lights at the (Minnesota Landscape) Arboretum. To get in our warm clothes and walk around a beautiful space and see the lights felt like Advent to me.
Q) You’ve said your favorite prayer is from the medieval mystic Julian of Norwich: “All will be well.”
A) She didn’t write “All will be well” from her castle eating bonbons. She would’ve lived through the black plague in her village where maybe 25 percent of the population died. She lived through hardship, and through her prayer life, still had it revealed to her: “All will be well.”
I find that really powerful. It’s a theological statement: I might not see it, I might not even understand it, and on many days, I’m railing against it, but at my core, I deeply believe God will work for good in whatever situation we find ourselves in. It might not be in our lifetimes. It might not happen in ways we see and understand.
Knowing some of the challenges I’ve had in my own life, I’ve experienced that. I’ve come out the other side. That is the core of my theological belief. I don’t think it’s optimism; it’s faith. It’s a way of looking at the world that very clearly sees the suffering and the pain and the hatred and sin and then it goes to that next place and says, “And God is going to work in that for good.” That is faith at the end of the day.