By Dr. John E. Morgan

Pastor–Collinsville Baptist Church

It was the last lesson he taught me.  His name was Dr. Nolan Fowler.  He was one of those teachers who teach us and then teach us about life.

He taught American History at Tennessee Tech.   His class just happened to fit my schedule.  I heard rumors.  Good teacher but way too hard.  Makes you do too much work.  The rumors were right.  High standards and demands. Like a great parent or coach.  I made sure to sign up for him for the next term, too.  And tried very hard to never disappoint him.

Too much work?  Tests covered all his lectures (each day was a trip through the wonderland of history).  And the text book.  And history articles we had to read for hours in the library.  His tests covered everything.  Some people hated this.  They dropped the class to take an easier teacher.  Their loss.  (We see a lot of those kinds of people in churches, too.  They want instant spirituality without the study and work.  Doesn’t work in the church, either.)

He expected you to be prepared each day and would ask questions about the assigned material.  “Mr. Morgan, tell the class about all the candidates in the election of 1860.”  I got that one right.  Pride.   “Mr. Morgan, who was the other leader in the First Great Awakening?”  With great confidence I answered.  “Jim Whiteside”.  “Mr. Morgan you have just given us the name of the starting fullback at Vanderbilt.  The correct answer was George Whitfield.”  Not so much pride.

He once asked me to join the History Club.  I explained to him that I was an engineering major.   He suggested I might want to change majors.  I didn’t.  But I did finish a minor in history because of him.

Dr. Fowler also taught me about being willing to “march to the sound of a different drummer”.  He did not own a car.  He walked the mile back and forth to school every day.  One day we stopped our car, and I asked him if he wanted a ride.  His response – “No thank you, young man.  You need to get out and walk with me.”  I didn’t.  Who doesn’t want a ride?  Him.  He was still participating in age group Senior Olympics into his late eighties.  He won ten world championships because he never quit walking or working.  Commitment.  Even when the world takes the easy way.  (Church can be that way, too.  It takes commitment to be there week after week when your friends are at the lake or the ball game.)

It was many years after I graduated that I read in an alum magazine about his continuing track accomplishments.  And I did something I have done far, far too rarely.  I wrote him a letter to thank him for being such a great influence on my life.

He wrote back.  He had looked up my grades (turns out all those jokes about permanent records had basis with him.)  He had kept a copy of every students grades on every test.  Gulp.  He said he remembered me.   That I was a good student.  He told me how much it meant to have a former student write.  He said that not many ever did.  He closed the letter with these words – sic transit gloria mundi.  I had to look it up.  It means “so passes this world’s glory”.

He died a couple of years later.  But I often remind myself of his last lesson.  Sic transit gloria mundi.  Don’t waste your life on the things this world treasures.  Don’t waste your life hunting the world’s acceptance.

Jesus once said – For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? As you look at the coming year, remember -  Sic transit gloria mundi.  Don’t waste your life chasing the world’s glory.  In the church we would say don’t follow the world.  Follow Jesus.