Teaching Children

“What people will remember is what you're passionate about.” That's what Don Carson says about preaching. I agree and I think it extends further than that. I've been thinking about growing up in the church and about what children and teenagers are taught. I believe there is a great danger in just teaching true things. The danger is that kids will come away with a miscellany of truths without knowing how those truths connect or what their foundation is. They may even know that the cross is the central thing, but they won't necessarily figure out how.

This is dangerous because a kid's world is all about good and bad, punishment and reward, rules and consequences, so when they look at the miscellany, they will likely see a call to be good. Our children will not see grace unless someone shows them. They may grow up with the great blessing (I mean this) of knowing what is right and wrong, but with little grasp of the righteousness of God, with little awareness that God is familiar with our sin and has already answered it, without the motivation of doing good from security and out of thankfulness, without the knowledge that the Lord Jesus will help us in our struggle and that it will all be over and better in heaven. Let's do our best to teach these things to our kids.

Not that it will ever be safe – for even if our teaching is right and true and as it should be, there is the danger of neglecting to model it. And there is also the danger of all our preaching and living being before little ones whose hearts are yet hard. We must pray that we will speak and act as we should and that they will listen and act (and in their turn speak) as they should.

Plagiarism: The Trouble with Principle

Stanley Fish is a generally sharp thinking atheist, who here hoes into pluralism. It's all been said before, but rarely so well. Enjoy the clarity of his prose, I bid you.

" . . . [R]eligion can be part of university life so long as it renounces its claim to have a privileged purchase on the truth, which of course is the claim that defines a religion as a religion as opposed to a mere opinion.

It's a great move whereby liberalism, in the form of academic freedom, gets to display its generosity while at the same time cutting the heart out of the views to which that generosity is extended . . . . [It] asks you to be morally thin; and it does this by asking you to conceive of yourself not as someone who is committed to something but as someone who is committed to respecting the commitments of those with whom he disagrees.

. . . .

[T]he strong multiculturalist faces a dilemma: either he stretches his toleration so that it extends to the intolerance residing at the heart of a culture he would honor, in which case tolerance is no longer his guiding principle, or he condemns the core intolerance of that culture (recoiling in horror when Khomeini calls for the death of Rushdie), in which case he is no longer according it respect at the point where its distinctiveness is most obviously at stake.

. . . .

[And besides,] [h]ow respectful can one be of 'fundamental' differences? If the difference is fundamental - that is, touches basic beliefs and commitments - how can you respect it without disrespecting your own beliefs and commitments? And on the other side, do you really show respect for a view by tolerating it, as you might tolerate the buzzing of a fly? Or do you show respect when you take it seriously enough to oppose it?"

Stanley Fish, The Trouble with Principle, pages 40, 41, 61, 66

Plagiarism: These Bodies and World

"I suspect that our conception of Heaven as merely a state of mind is not unconnected with the fact that the specifically Christian virtue of Hope has in our time grown so languid. Where our fathers, peering into the future, saw gleams of gold, we see only the mist, white, featureless, cold and never moving.

The thought at the back of all this negative spirituality is really one forbidden to Christians. They, of all men, must not conceive spiritual joy and worth as things that need to be rescued or tenderly protected from time and place and matter and the senses. Their God is the God of corn and oil and wine. He is the glad Creator . . . . To shrink back from all that can be called Nature into negative spirituality is as if we ran away from horses instead of learning to ride. There is in our present pilgrim condition plenty of room (more room than most of us like) for abstinence and renunciation and mortifying our natural desires. But . . . . These small and perishable bodies we now have were given to us as ponies are given to schoolboys. We must learn to manage: not that we may some day be free of horses altogether but that some day we may ride bare-back, confident and rejoicing, those greater mounts, those winged, shining and world-shaking horses which perhaps even now expect us with impatience, pawing and snorting in the King's stables. Not that the gallop would be of any value unless it were a gallop with the King; but how else - since He has retained His own charger - should we accompany Him?"

C.S.Lewis, Miracles

Richard Dawkins: Faith and evidence

Richard Dawkins addresses many things in his mini-series The Root of all Evil. He's lucid and persuasive, but the timeframe limits him to simplistic arguments which I'm told are much better developed in his book, The God Delusion. I thought I'd add my 2 bob's worth in regard to how evidence operates in the life of your regular Christian.

Regular Christians may not go to any great length to investigate the evidence for their beliefs, and yet they think that having evidence for their faith is essential. "[I]f Christ has not been raised, our preaching is useless and so is your faith. More than that, we are then found to be false witnesses about God, for we have testified about God that he raised Christ from the dead . . . . if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins. Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ are lost. If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are to be pitied more than all men." (1 Corinthians 15: 14-15a & 17-19)

So why do regular Christians think there is evidence for our faith? Because the people through whom God wrote the Bible saw Jesus killed and three days later saw him alive. Many of them died proclaiming this truth.

This is how Luke introduces his account of Jesus' life, death and rising: "Many have undertaken to draw up an account of the things that have been fulfilled among us, just as they were handed down to us by those who from the first were eyewitnesses and servants of the word. Therefore, since I myself have carefully investigated everything from the beginning, it seemed good also to me to write an orderly account for you, most excellent Theophilus, so that you may know the certainty of the things you have been taught." (1:1-4) And this is the importance that the disciple John places on evidence in his biography of Jesus: "Jesus did many other miraculous signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not recorded in this book. But these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name." (20:30-31)


For what is hopefully a thorough, reasoned and loving rebuttal of Dawkin's arguments, see The Dawkins Delusion?: Atheist Fundamentalism and the Denial of the Divine (Alister McGrath and Joanna Collicutt McGrath).

Men and boys

Here's my current thoughts about relating to men. Thanks to the godly men who have given me insider tips, who I have observed leading and disciplining boys etc. I'm far from an expert on the subject, not being married and not being a man - so I would appreciate and learn from anyone's thoughts.

One proviso before you begin: This reflection is directed at women and so runs the risk of coming across as patronising to a male reader. Please think of it as if I were teaching women how to follow in salsa. There is a real skill and character to following well. But it is not some sort of back-door way of women being in charge. It certainly does not guarantee that the man will lead well, though a good follower no doubt helps and is no doubt a pleasure to dance with if you are a good leader. And though I do have respect for the man I dance with simply because he is taking the lead (and because I know it's a hard job), he does also earn greater respect from me if he is a good leader (decisive, clear, respectful, fun, graceful, manly, oh there's quite a few).

Men, at best, are Men. They are leaders, whether humbly, of wife and family, or leaders of many. [Women too can be leaders. I am myself. But leadership is not part of women's fundamental identity. It may be true of an individual but it is not true of her, as a woman.]

Leadership then, is the key to relating to men - and boys. They need to see and to be treated with the respect we have for them. And if they do not have our respect, then it is generous and kind to give them the opportunity to gain or regain it.

The easiest way to show your respect for men's leadership is to let them lead. This doesn't mean women can't be heavily involved, it just means that men lead. [This principle should be particularly clear in Christian relationships, and yet it may be harder to spot - because Christian leadership is counter cultural. Christian leadership is still that of initiating, of making the final call, of protection; but it is also servant leadership. It chooses self-sacrifice, it is humble, it serves the other.]

But there are times when a woman is in leadership over a man - as a university lecturer for example, or perhaps running a short training course before church. How can we respect men's inherent leadership in these situations? Perhaps by deferring to them when we can, in expectation that they will be wise; just as we defer to other women, respecting their worth and contribution. We should also recognise that these situations aren't inherently disrespectful. They involve teaching of a specific area, which does not imply that men's fundamental, general authority is deficient.

There are also times when boys need to be told their boundaries and both men and boys need to hear of their wrongs. How can we do this without belittling them? We should first of all recognise that it can be cruel to men's egos to be constantly rebuked (just as it can be cruel to women's self-worth). So we might choose to let some things pass. We should realise that men are rightly ashamed when they have not been Men, and boys are understandably belittled when everything is prescribed and the initiative to be good is taken from them. So we should perhaps get rebukes over with quickly and only set rules when we have to.

We need to establish rules or rebuke knowing that men - people - are sinful. Yet we must also have the expectation that, by the Spirit, they will of course want to become good men. We need to look honestly at sin, grieve for it and yet have hope and confidence in our men and in our God.

Betrayal

Hanging out with friends on the weekend, we made a kid welcome. He later nicked a ball and lied about it. One of my friends said that lying's the thing she hates most; it's a betrayal of trust. So I got to thinking, is that all that lying is? Is that the only reason why it's horrible? What about lying about other things? . . .

The Bible says that in our hearts we all know there's a God: “The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge. There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard. Their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world.” (Psalm 19:1-4) or “For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse.” (Romans 1:20). We lie when we say we don't believe he exists.

But does the lie matter? Maybe it's dumb, but it doesn't hurt anyone, it doesn't make you a bad person. You aren't betraying anyone's trust.

This is true if God is god, a force, fact, concept or philosophy. But what if he is a personal God?

What if it's like saying a person doesn't exist? You are dead to me; I no longer have a son. This is so much more than a betrayal of trust; it's betrayal and rejection of everything you ever shared together, everything they ever did for you and meant to you and you to them, it's betrayal of them. And this of your Creator God? He who knit you together in your Mother's womb and who daily gives you food and breath?

Your lie spits in his face.

Of all who you might betray, he is the one to whom you owe allegiance. He is the one who should never be betrayed.

He is right to be angry. He is right to cast you from him, you who first cast him away. He is right to destroy you.

And he will, for to overlook such betrayal would mean it never really mattered.

So in your place, he sent his Son, that he might cast the Son away and destroy him, for you. That it might not be overlooked but that you might never suffer judgement. In place of punishment, standing before us – the betrayers – is the risen Lord Jesus. He says, I have paid the price. Be sorry for what you have done. Accept my gift. Be my brother and my sister. Be my Father's beloved child once more.

Grace and the Miracles of Gandalf and Frodo

I watched the Lord of the Rings trilogy over Easter. It gladdened my heart.

Gandalf reminds me of the older, wiser people who understand. Who speak and live with truth and provide example and teaching and solidity when all is in turmoil. Who, from their soft hearts, speak simple concern and comfort.

Frodo is one of those who suffer. He is at once very weak and very strong. He thinks himself nothing special; and though he realises the importance of his quest, each day is just another hard day. He would be baffled to know that if even the mighty beheld his journey, they would be humbled. When Frodo takes another step, when he speaks kindly to Gollum, when he apologises to Sam, we clap our hands. And the devil cries out.

Before Frodo set out, Gandalf gave him this counsel: 'All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.'. And what to do with the little strength we have.