I was once alive apart from teaching, but when the end of the semester came, grading came alive and I died.
The very job that promised life proved to be death to me.
For grading, seizing an opportunity through the teaching, deceived me and through it killed me.
So the teaching is holy, and the classroom is holy and righteous and good.
Did that which is good, then, bring death to me? By no means! It was grading, producing death in me through what is good, in order that grading might be shown to be sin, and through the classroom might become sinful beyond measure.
For we know that the teaching is spiritual, but I am of the flesh, sold under grading.
Romans 7:9-14 VLT (very loose translation)
Romans 7 never made so much sense.
[At the end of each semester, professors everywhere take a collective deep breath...and then let it out in the form of one long complaint. I think we're mostly annoyed at ourselves for once again assigning more work than we actually want to grade. Anyway, this is a post I wrote a couple of years back, but it fit my mood this morning as I'm finally reaching the end of this semester's grading. Enjoy.]