D. Gill Ring 5/9/36–2/10/16   Photo by Mike Harp

What makes a great teacher? Witnessing to the truth. 

During my days as a student, I was blessed with many excellent teachers. In elementary school and high school, my favorite teachers taught English, religion and history. In college and graduate school, my best teachers taught English, philosophy and theology. Their influence on my life and work was powerful. Whatever gifts I now possess as a writer and consultant, while certainly God-given, were shaped and formed by the women and men who taught me everything I know and everything I believe. 

The best teacher I ever had was Gill Ring. I only had him in class for two semesters my senior year at Saint Meinrad. (He taught philosophy there for more than 45 years). But he continued to teach me outside the classroom in conversations that covered every subject imaginable, and in the process we became lifelong friends.

Why was Gill a great teacher? He was able to share with his students (with me) his own struggles—to understand, to accept, to believe. He was transparent in his search for truth, and he absolutely refused to accept false or shallow substitutes. 

To some, he appeared arrogant or rigid in his thinking. Others feared his powerful intellect which could easily intimidate the faint of heart. But he was like all truly great thinkers—driven by an insatiable desire to discover the truth of things. 

In fact, he was one of the kindest men I’ve ever known. He would stop whatever he was doing to help someone in need, especially someone (like me) struggling with inner demons, doubts or fears. 

We were friends for 45 years, and during this time he never stopped teaching me—sometimes with his words and stories but always by his example. His love for his wife, Gail, his conversion to the Catholic Church, and his determination to help students become authentic, critical thinkers inspired me and many others to listen carefully and then decide for ourselves. 

His final lesson came at the end of his life when because of a stroke he couldn’t say what was on his mind. It must have been pure hell for a man like Gill (a professional talker) to be tongue-tied, to be prevented from articulating his deepest thoughts and most basic desires. But he continued teaching—in the classroom as long as possible and in his daily life until the day his heart gave out and he died. 

Gill Ring was a great teacher. His entire life was a witness to the search for truth—in his marriage and family life, in his philosophy classes, in his friendships and, ultimately, in the way he let go of his considerable ego and surrendered to the mysterious will of God. 

There came a time in my young life when I said to myself in all seriousness: When I grow up, I want to be a man like Gill Ring. That’s still true today.