Can Parents and Kids be Friends?

From time to time I get e-mails from a website called "Raising Small Souls". It's a collection of articles by a woman named Ellen Braun. I don't agree with everything on her site, but this article intrigued me.

At issue: Can (and should) a parent be their child's friend? You can read the whole article here.

What I appreciate about the website is that she posts reader comments, supportive and negative, after each article, and the comments that followed this one were pretty interesting.

Braun writes: "What happens to the boundaries that are supposed to exist between parents and their children? We expect our children to be disciplined and learn to respect and honor us, yet we dub them buddies and pals. ...When we call our kids buddies, we are in effect inviting them into a world that lacks restrictions and formality. We cannot possibly expect them to talk and act respectfully toward us unless we have clearly established that there are boundaries between us and them."

Many readers keyed in on the use of the words "buddy" and "pal" and rightly pointed out that merely using one of those words doesn't create parity between parents and their children. But, the heart of Braun's argument holds true: kids cannot, in fact, be their parent's friend, attaining the same status as other adult friends. (Or can they?) And therefore, they should not be a parent's friend. (Or should they?)

This gets to be an issue in ministry, where we are eager to break down walls of unfamiliarity. In the spirit of being warm and welcoming, we are eager to position ourselves as trustworthy, fun, helpful, supportive - everything you'd want in a friend. Relationships are the means by which we do ministry. We come alongside kids, guide them, lead them, counsel them, hurt with them, encourage them.

Does this make us their friends?

Yes and no. Successful ministries to youth and children have long moved past an authoritarian model in favor of a relational one, in which kids are urged and persuaded to follow Christ, but not coerced into it. Just this weekend we talked in class about the difference between committing yourself to Christ because you felt you should vs. committing because you really wanted to. I have a feeling we wouldn't get very far with kids if the first thing we did when they walked in the door was hit them with all of the rules and continually emphasize why the relationship dynamic between them and us was forever unbalanced in our favor.

So at the least, we must be friendly, even if we don't assume the role of friend. But, boundaries exist. Kids will misbehave. They'll speak inappropriately. They'll react immaturely. We're not operating in a "Lord of the Flies" environment; there need to be rules. And ultimately, adults need to enforce them.

The key, then, is how to discipline (and by this I mean to correct, reprimand, restitute, impose consequences - the whole ball of wax) in a way that doesn't shift what has been a collegial, nurturing relationship to one where power defines roles.

The root of authority lies in a concept called "legitimacy," which is the psychological belief that the person in authority over me has the right to govern me. Absent legitimacy, a government crumbles. Many times, cases of teenage rebellion or estrangement are in fact a rejection of the parent's legitimacy. ("You're such a hypocrite! You have no right to tell me what to do anymore!") To the extent that a parent - or any authority figure - can cultivate friendly relations with a child and still maintain his or her legitimacy in that child's eyes, that parent has not risked or lost anything.

But the key is, legitimacy is something that rests in the mind of the child. We can assert it, but we can't demand it. When we want to bolster our authority, we may speak louder, we may punish more severely, we may insist on our right to make rules - and all of this might very well convince us that we're rightfully in charge. But we're not the ones who need convincing! Instead, we should focus on the child, recognizing that for each child the line between authority figure and "buddy" or friend lies in a different place.

So how do we establish legitimacy and maintain it? I would offer the following:

1. Mean the words we say.
2. Listen sincerely and allow kids to express disagreement.
3. Find out who else your child respects as an authority figure and probe why? Is it a teacher, principal, coach - what do they do to maintain the balance between helpful and in-charge?
4. Admit mistakes and ask for forgiveness.
5. Never punish (or "consequence" if you prefer) out of anger, but only out of a desire to teach a better behavior. "Let me show you a better way to do that" needs to become a frequently-used phrase in our arsenal.
6. Examine and reexamine our motives. Why are we making the rules we do? Is the intent clear to the child? Is there another way we could make them (choose one: safe, responsible, healthy, respectful) than by what we're asking them to do? Would we want to comply with what we're asking?

Like it or not, the nature of working with kids - in homes, schools, Little Leagues, churches - has changed. The task is not to issue directives but to come alongside them - doing things with them rather than to them. We're not their friends. But we do desire for them what any friend would: that at the end of life's trials, they emerge as people of character.

Catalina, here we come

We're going to summer camp!

Our interest and participation in Forest Home Winter Camp has grown substantially in the last couple of years, and many of you have asked if we would be going back for the summer. Unfortunately, our group was too big for Forest Home to accomodate in the weeks they had openings. So in March we started looking for sites we could rent to do our own. The potential sites were few.

But - amazingly - Campus by the Sea, which is owned by InterVarsity Christian Fellowship and located on Catalina Island was available the weekend we wanted. And - amazingly - the boat company still had all the seats available that we will need. We booked both, and camp is on.

Camp will run Friday, August 10-Sunday, August 12 and include an afternoon in Avalon, followed by a short boat ride to the camp facility. Our church will program Friday night through Sunday morning, so we can tailor the message and theme to what we think our kids need.

The cost is $235 for the weekend - higher than winter camp, but the boat ride to and from the island was an extra expense. If you've been the beneficiary of a Christian camping experience, you know how profound a camp set in nature can be.

This will be a major event for our ministry. Our goals will be to bond kids to one another and to their adult leaders, who are our current small group leaders serving on the weekends.

Please consider sending your child - it'll be worth it!

Dear Mom, You Matter

Dear Mom,

It's Mother's Day again. I sometimes wonder if having everyone celebrate on the same day makes it somehow less unique or special for you? But then again, we're all ultimately celebrating for the same reason: you matter. Dad is great, and his day is coming, but today is about you.

They say now that even infants can register differing responses, based on what they expect when they see either mom or dad approaching to pick them up: dad means it's time to play; mom means comfort and safety are near. I'm starting to think we never really lose that.

Moms are more intuitive than dads. We guys struggle with being emotionally "in touch" anyhow - we certainly have the full range, but we don't get what they are. But you're perceptive. You knew when I lost the spelling bee in 5th grade that my feelings were hurt, and that I was intimidated to start junior high, and that I was crushed when my hamsters died, even though 11-year-olds should be tougher than that. You knew when it was reasonable to expect my sisters and I to get along, and when each of us needed our privacy and space.

Remember the time we were at the store, and I really wanted that Star Wars figure, and so did my cousin who was with us, and then he agreed to buy something else so I could have it? Just by giving a name to what he'd done, you taught me that day what "generous" was and that it was a good thing. I learned "sensitive" the same way. Who needs formal character education with a teacher like that?

Moms notice when you need your hair cut, and when it's time for new shoes or longer pants, and when it's time to see the dentist and register for summer sports. You kept a mental schedule flawlessly until there was just too much going on, and then you kept on us relentlessly so you could keep the written calendar accurate. Could Dad have pulled this off? Maybe - but the point is that thanks to you, he didn't have to. You made Dad better. Moms do that.

Our culture doesn't favor the elderly - we're into the newest, the freshest, the youngest. But you always had a healthy respect for heritage, and I don't mean old things like buildings or antiques, I mean people. We were always visiting the homes of your older relatives and later, regretably, their graves. We planted flowers at the cemetary every year. You still do. (Remember when you and I tracked down those 19th Century ancestors' graves in Minnesota? I loved that.) You taught me that the past was not to be cast aside, but to be valued. You advised us once to tape record all of Grandma's old stories because otherwise they'd be lost when she died. We didn't, and you were right.

Remember how you pulled me out of school to watch the 1980 Presidential Inauguration, because you thought it was important that I see it? Or how you insisted we pay attention when the Berlin Wall came down, because it was history in the making? You were more right than we could fathom then. And of course you knew what you were doing when you took us North Dakota-born kids on cross-country trips every other summer. Our horizons were and still are far broader than most of the kids we grew up with.

And I want to let you in on a secret: even when I began to pull away, as all boys do when they get to be teenagers, your influence and opinion still mattered. A lot. That's something I hope the moms (and dads) of the kids I minister to realize.

We live half a country apart now, but still the things I associate with the words family and home and compassion and, of course, mom, are tied up in what I experienced growing up as your son. Maybe in that sense, Mother's Day does mean the same thing to everyone.

Happy Mother's Day,

Mark

We have not yet begun to fight

In just over a month, our sixth graders will graduate up to the junior high ministry, and our current 3rd graders will join us in Room 100. I will miss this 6th grade class. They have brought an infectious energy to our room and in a ministry where atmosphere counts for a lot, that's priceless.

Youth and children's ministry is always a limited engagement - it's a matter of time until the kids you work with "age out" of what you're doing and are ready for the next level. Sadly, I know what the statistics say - that many who make childhood commitments to Christ don't keep them once they're teenagers, or they backslide, or they rebel; and that once in college, 75% of those who wore the name "Christian" in high school walk away from the faith, some to return later, others not.

But I'm also stubborn enough to believe that ministry matters. If I didn't believe that, I wouldn't do it. I'm not ready to throw up my hands when it comes to children & youth and say, "Well, the world's going to have its way with them" or "It's inevitable that they'll walk away from the Lord" or the fatalistic "We can't control it anyhow - it's all in God's hands." No, I believe that we have not yet begun to fight.

Exciting things are happening in youth ministry in America. Leaders are better trained then ever before. Youth and family ministers are choosing that for their lifelong ministry rather than treating it as a stepping stone to adult ministry. We are coming to a consensus that youth ministry is family ministry. We are catching the vision that students can accomplish great things in expressing their faith and in acts of service if we believe in them and give them our time and resources. Publishers are getting better at producing age-appropriate, relevant materials for various age groups. The understanding is growing that life application is more valuable than rote learning. And on and on.

We will never reach the point where we have youth ministry down to a science (regardless of what these marketing materials for Sunday School products claim), because working with kids and teenagers is truly an art, but it's a practiced art, and we're getting smarter about how to be effective at discipleship, not just fun production.

I know a handful of students at Virginia Tech. I was in immediate contact with three of them the day of the shootings. One, whom I ministered to in high school, has a great grasp of the vision of impacting a campus. At the end of his freshman year, he joined a fraternity - and immediately started a Bible study within it. He has been candid about the campus ministries' inabilities to reach the non-Christian student population as a whole. He told me that in the wake of April 16, some Scientologists set up a tent on campus and offered counseling. He and his two roommates' response? To invite them over to dinner in order to engage with them. The contributing factors to this kid's walk weren't unusual - active, supportive parents; a solid Christian foundation; a strong youth group; a handful of accountable relationships - but they were present over the long haul (birth-18 years). As a result, he is oriented for a lifetime of discipleship and disciplemaking.

So in spite of the bad news, I'm incredibly hopeful. We know what works with students. We know that they don't have to walk backwards through their high school and college years, always on the defensive. We can have great hope that if we are faithful in building into kids, our efforts will not be in vain.

The "formula", if there was such a thing, would look like this:
The positive contributors (love, discipline, support, etc.), consistently applied, minus negative or destructive influences = a person ready to be touched and used by God.

And so, a kid's church involvement, over the long haul, really does matter. Consistency matters. I'd love to deliver 100 6th graders every year to the junior high and look down the road 6 years to see those same 100 faces heading off to college still secure in their faith.

Wouldn't you like to see the same?