A Six-Year-Old's Deep Theological Questions

My oldest daughter has been in a phase lately where incidents in everyday life prompt her to ask questions about God and faith which, for a six-year-old, strike me as very deep indeed. As we were getting ready for church this morning, she again asked me about prayer - except this time, it was for herself, since she has been ill for the past two days.

MB: "Daddy, is it okay to pray for myself to get better?"

Me: "Sure it is. People pray for themselves all the time."

MB: "So it's okay to ask Miss C. [the children's priest at our church] to pray for me when she asks today?"

Me: "Sure."

MB: "What do people pray for?"

Me: "Well, they pray to get better if they've been sick, or they pray for a job if they don't have one, or they pray for a good friend or a member of their family. They pray for anything."

MB: "Did you pray to God when you went to Applebees and got sick [with food poisoning]?"

Me: [holding back laughter] "Oh, yes, I sure did."

This episode is a lesson on two fronts - one, children always ask great questions, and two, they never forget anything. Applebees was four years ago!!

Daily Devotional Courtesy of the Family Drive to Church

The family was piled into the car to head for church this morning, and as we were backing out of the driveway E noticed that one of our neighbors still had his Christmas display set up in the yard (very commercial, I might add; everything from giant inflatable holiday characters to tons of lights and even a creche made up of nothing but dinosaurs and Godzilla action figures). She started screaming, "Santa! Santa!" Almost immediately, MB countered, "No, it's not Santa. He's at the North Pole!"

I tried to explain that what E had seen wasn't the real Santa, but rather an inflatable Santa dummy that was in the yard, but MB would have none of it and said that it WASN'T Santa or a Santa doll -- he WASN'T there. However, she hadn't actually even been looking in that direction, and so I said, "Just because you don't see something doesn't mean it's not there."

And then I stopped talking because I had just, in trying to explain something to my oldest daughter, defined the very faith struggle that I have endured at different periods in my life. I know God has been very present throughout my life -- and at very crucial points, ranging from my car accident right after high school graduation to being protected during my time in the United Arab Emirates during the Gulf War in 1991. However, I've always been very much a sort of "I have to see someone sit in that chair before I'll believe it holds them" sort of person with regard to my faith, and I've been able to overcome that with varying degrees of success.

But does the fact that I so quickly recognized the significance of what I had said so quickly after I said it mean that that faith is more embedded in me than even I realize? In the midst of a crazy life and days that seem to have us running from point 1 to point 3 without even noticing that we've hit point 2, was this a blessed moment of clarity?

In trying to give MB something to think about, I have in fact been given something to think about.

Just Who Are the Children of God?

I take a bit of time every morning reading various devotionals and religious-themed newsletters to which I have subscribed: the Upper Room, Beliefnet, Christianity Today, Chicken Soup for the Soul, etc. This morning, the Beliefnet scripture passage also had this adorable video attached; in a time where denominations are battling and individual parishes are struggling for survival, it's so nice to be reminded that the real children of God who are depending on all of us are just that -- children...

"The Jesus Camp" and Indoctrination?

I'm going to offer a disclaimer now before getting into this post: I have no first-hand experience with Pentecostals or Pentecostal churches, and truthfully don't know much about how that denomination operates. Everything that I'm about to say here should be read strictly as the opinions of a Pentecostal-ignorant, cradle Episcopalian.

Last night, while aimlessly flipping channels on the television (the curse of having nothing but reruns on at the end of the year), A. and I ran across the documentary "The Jesus Camp" on A&E. It seemed intriguing, and we decided to watch it; by the end of the two hours, I was stunned, for lack of a better term. "The Jesus Camp" is a 2006 film that follows Pastor Becky Fischer and the attendees of her annual camp at Devil's Lake, North Dakota. Through the course of the film, the viewer is introduced to some of the kids who visit, learns something about Pastor Fischer, watches as the camp unfolds, and then sees the activities of one of the families in the aftermath of the camp. One girl, nine-year-old Rachael, was a big focus of the film, and I'll touch on some questions I have about her and any child raised in this environment.

I had a lot of concerns about what I had watched when it ended. A few examples:

1. All of the kids were genuinely excited about attending camp, as I'm sure any child would be given the chance to experience something new and make new friends -- in addition to learning more about their beliefs and experiencing some spiritual growth. However, from the first day they were almost brow-beaten by Pastor Fischer; case in point, she stood before in a daily chapel service and told them that she knew there were lots of kids in the room who said they were Christians and acted one way at church, but acted another way when they were in another environment. She then started berating them as hypocrites who needed to be cleansed, and succeeded in bringing a large number of them to tears. Why in the world would anyone think it beneficial to call seven-, eight-, and nine-year-olds hypocrites? Why in the world would anyone think that berating a child and threatening them with hell would be helpful?

2. Sharing your faith with your children is a great thing; I certainly won't dispute that. In fact, I've had great fun in recent weeks talking to MB about the birth of Jesus, the role of Mary and Joseph, and the entire nativity story (she is absolutely enthralled with the thought of baby Jesus, the angels and archangels, and everyone who visited after his birth). But we discuss it -- I don't try and program her. Again using Rachael as an example, the children seemed to simply repeat anything and everything they heard from their parents; in one instance, she approached a young lady in a bowling alley and told her that God had put it on heart to talk to her about whether she was saved -- yes, I know kids says the darnedest things, but how many nine-year-olds say anything close to "God put it on my heart?"

At another point, she approached three black men sitting in a park and asked one of them, "Do you know where you're going when you die?" He responded that he was going to heaven, and she replied with, "Are you sure?" Then, as she was walking back across the street, she said, "Oh, they're probably Muslim." Why would a nine-year-old care about that distinction, much less vocalize it?

3. One of the groups of boys was sitting up late one night in their cabin telling ghost stories, apparently after lights-out had been called. The counselor walked in and told them that they should be focused on stories from God rather than ghost stories for which he (the counselor) had no use. Why not let the kids be kids and tell ghost stories?

4. Rachael extemporized at one point on the type of churches she believed God chose to visit. According to her, God doesn't like churches where people sing three songs and then listen to a sermon -- all of which are done with calm and silence. Instead, she said God prefers to visit churches where the congregation is jumping around, waving their hands and shouting "Hallelujah!" Obviously, they have overlooked the verse from the New Testament where Jesus says, "Whenever two or three are gathered together, I will be in the their midst;" I don't recall it saying, "Whenever two or three are gathered AND are jumping around and saying 'Hallelujah!'"

I won't say that this isn't an important film; I found it very eye-opening and it gave me a better understanding of at least this part of the Pentecostal church. In fact, I would recommend that lots of folks watch it -- it was nominated for an Academy Award for best documentary. And I certainly won't try to say that this is indicative of the entire denomination (read my disclaimer above for the reason). However, I would be stunned if you, too, didn't have some serious questions -- about the way that these children are seemingly "indoctrinated," about how they are taught at an extremely young age to talk about being soldiers in the army of God and eventhat they would be willing to die for Jesus (yes, that comment was made by a child), and about how they are instructed to talk and use language that they clearly don't understand. Parrots can be taught to say, "Polly want a cracker," but they don't know what a cracker is or why they are asking for it. I would hope that my children would make decisions on their faith based on discussions, reading, reflection, and prayer, and not because someone has drilled the language into their head or frightened them into a certain set of beliefs.

In doing some further reading on this documentary, I ran across an article in the Seattle newspaper that said that the camp had been shut down indefinitely as a result of the outcry caused by the film -- even to the extent that the camp buildings had been vandalized (if you disagree with something, try and talk it out like I am here -- don't go into destruction mode). Ironically, the story ran the same week that Ted Haggard -- who is featured in the last 30 minutes of the film -- announced his resignation.

The intent of this post is to drum up conversation and dialogue, not to offend or insult. If I have done so, accept my apologies now. As someone raised in a denomination that sings three hymns and then listens to a sermon -- and doesn't berate children with comments about their being hypocrites -- this is difficult for me to understand or accept. Your thoughts and comments are welcome.

Rite of Passage

One of the first e-mails that I saw when checking my messages this morning was from my father, and it was about the rite of passage for a young Cherokee boy. I wanted to share it here -- it has a great message indeed.
_________________________

Do you know the legend of the Cherokee Indian youth's rite of passage?

His father takes him into the forest, blindfolds him and leaves him alone.

He is required to sit on a stump the whole night and not remove the blindfold until the rays of the morning sun shine through it. He cannot cry out for help to anyone. Once he survives the night, he is a MAN.

He cannot tell the other boys of this experience, because each lad must come into manhood on his own.

The boy is naturally terrified. He can hear all kinds of noises. Wild beasts must surely be all around him. Maybe even some human might do him harm. The wind blew the grass and earth, and shook his stump, but he sat stoically, never removing the blindfold. It would be the only way he could become a man.

Finally, after a horrific night the sun appeared and he removed his blindfold. It was then that he discovered his father sitting on the stump next to him. He had been at watch the entire night, protecting his son from harm.

We, too, are never alone. Even when we don't know it, our Heavenly Father is watching over us, sitting on the stump beside us. When trouble comes, all we have to do is reach out to Him.

Thanks to My Readers

Life has been moving at a slow pace the past few days, but primarily due to the fact that we're not quite sure when daughter number 2 is going to make her appearance. The delivery had been scheduled for the morning of February 6, but some sudden contractions a few days ago led to the "All Hands on Deck!" signal, and the in-laws are here and ready for action. Now we're just monitoring the time between the contractions and waiting for the signal to head for the hospital. The bags are packed, the camera has batteries, and we're ready to go; all I will need (depending on the time of day) is 30 seconds to get my hair put in some sort of acceptable style before we hit the road.

I wanted to thank everyone who took the time to read my last post and leave what were most valuable comments; each was of immeasurable help, and I appreciate all of the kind words, the support, and the prayers. The pendulum has indeed begun to swing in the other direction: a new child on the way, several interviews scheduled for the week, and some little side projects to keep me occupied for a while. A new part of life is coming, and I've learned to accept that it's not under my control -- and that I just need to enjoy the ride. The slushy, brown snow that I talked about last time (which seemed so indicative of the way I was feeling and the it seemed my life was going) has melted away, and it looks like (judging from what I see outside the window right now) that it's going to be replaced by some beautiful new white snow.

Things will get better -- I just need to rely on prayers, faith, and the help of family and friends to keep me on that path. So while there's nothing going on today, I look forward to having lots more upbeat posts in the days and weeks ahead, and -- if I can get my head back into the serious reading I have standing by, maybe some intellectually challenging ones!!

Playing the Odds on God

While channel surfing today, I ran across a program which included a reference to Blaise Pascal's "Wager" -- his attempt to utilize game theory (a type of applied mathematics) in an effort to influence people to choose whether or not they believe in God. The "Wager," which was included in a collection of notes published posthumously, was at its most basic an exercise by which a person could choose their belief based on their desire to achieve a maximum return on that belief. According to Pascal:

God is, or He is not. But to which side shall we incline? Reason can decide nothing here. There is an infinite chaos which separated us. A game is being played at the extremity of this infinite distance where heads or tails will turn up… Which will you choose then? Let us see. Since you must choose, let us see which interests you least. You have two things to lose, the true and the good; and two things to stake, your reason and your will, your knowledge and your happiness; and your nature has two things to shun, error and misery. Your reason is no more shocked in choosing one rather than the other, since you must of necessity choose. This is one point settled. But your happiness? Let us weigh the gain and the loss in wagering that God is. Let us estimate these two chances. If you gain, you gain all; if you lose, you lose nothing. Wager, then, without hesitation that He is.

In short: if you believe in God, and He exists, you've won everything; if you believe, and He doesn't exist, you've lost nothing; if you don't belive and He exists, you've lost everything; if you don't believe and he doesn't exist, you've lost nothing.

In the context of modern theology, I can't see how this sort of playing the odds could be taken seriously -- pinning your hope on a next life on the spin of a roulette wheel (I'll put my hopes for Heaven on black 23), or hitting on a 16 in blackjack (thus hoping the dealer busts, you win, and God does in fact exist). However, if I remember correctly from my post-graduate theology courses, Pascal's thesis in some ways follows up on a major theological debate which was taking place in Europe at that time, beginning with Luther: does one get to Heaven through faith, or through good works? Pascal seemingly argues that, regardless of whether there is a God and a Heaven, you should bet your money on good works (just so you don't take any chances with the outcome).

So what do most Christians today believe, or what do they hold as the most important part of their religion? I went into thinking about this question with one thing in mind: naturally, faith in God and a belief in Jesus and the Resurrection must be the most important thing to Christians. However, the more I read, the more that I found that many Christians surveyed practice what has become known as "Golden Rule Christianity." In a survey published in 1997 in Congregations: The Alban Journal, Nancy Ammerman wrote, "...they [the survey respondents] said the most important attributes of a Christian are caring for the needy and living one's Christian values every day. The most important task of the church, they said, is service to people in need." One of my favorite Christian writers, William Stringfellow, lived his life by putting his faith into action and working as a social activist. My own church shares and spreads its Christian faith by being extremely involved in numerous community outreach and global mission projects. Bonhoeffer acted out his faith by opposing the brutal Nazi regime in Germany in the 1930s and 1940s.

Looking at the countless examples of good works performed every day -- Habitat for Humanity projects, medical mission trips, homeless shelters, employment assistance services, job retraining services, food banks, the Bread for the World and ONE Campaigns, Amnesty International, Episcopal Relief and Development, etc. etc. -- hasn't the old, Reformation-era argument become moot? Do a majority of Christians today instead believe that you reach Heaven through faith and good works, instead of either/or? And when was this shift?

I look forward to your thoughts on this. I certainly don't feel I've adequately posed the question, but I know the answers I get will more than make up for this....