Monday, January 26, 2015

Why School Flunks as a Model for Nurturing Faith in Kids

Why do most church programs for kids resemble school? The earliest Sunday school, in England, was not even intended to promote kids' spiritual growth so much as it was intended to civilize the working-class children who otherwise would be running the streets on Sundays, causing mischief. It was an instrument of social betterment, giving actual schooling (reading and writing) and a healthy dose of training in Christian virtues to illiterate kids who were otherwise destined for a life of manual labor.

But today's kids grow up in a vastly different world, one that recognizes that child labor is wrong, that everyone deserves an opportunity for education, and that celebrates upward mobility. Families clamor to get their kids into the right preschool, kids are reading at younger ages than ever, and attending college has long been the norm for American students.

Still, when it comes to nourishing kids' faith, we're stuck with an 18th-century model.

There are lots of reasons why the Sunday school caught on in America, but the driving purpose had more to do with taming the frontier, promoting national unity, and developing civic virtue than anything else. It's important to note that Sunday schools weren't run by churches. They were independent organizations (parachurch ministries, really) that often met in churches but were not led by pastors nor a substitute for attending a church worship service. It was fully expected that everyone who attended a Sunday school - adult or child - was also active and regular in Sunday church services. In other words, Sunday school was not intended to be a worship experience, nor the only thing that supported the development of kids' faith.

Today, although the trappings of "school" are largely absent from churches - tables and worksheets have been replaced by tech and games and dramas - the gist remains the same. One of the problems of doing church "like school" for kids is that information transfer is relatively static: teachers have it, students need it, and by diligent effort, they can get what they need. But that's not a picture of what goes on as we grow spiritually.

I can think of three reasons why putting all of our eggs in the "school" model is a bad deal for kids. One is that more knowledge does not = a better Christian. More specifically, knowing more things does not translate into greater or stronger faith. Kids themselves can be complete Christians. Do you believe that? Of course, we acknowledge that Jesus said "the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these (children)" and that "unless you have the faith of a child, you will never enter the kingdom of God". But do we truly take that to heart? Or do we harbor the same prejudice as the rest of the world, which imposes a "power & performance" metric on everything, concluding that because children are young and small and simple, that makes them "less than"?

The second is that kids don't come to us empty. They have varying degrees of experience with language about God, other churches, the Bible...and so it's a mistake to assume that "what they know" will be exactly equal to "what we told them" - or anywhere close. If kids are not just mouthing words back to us, but actually internalizing the knowledge of God that's confronting them, it will look very different from one kid to another, because our life experiences create different amounts of need and color our perspective.

The third is related to the second, in that kids' exposure, intake, and processing of the things of God doesn't stop when they walk out the door of the church. It's not sequential, the way I might learn to do algebraic equations or memorize foreign-language vocabulary. The processing takes shape as kids live their varied lives.

In light of that, what role does our teaching play? It's not that truth and facts about God don't matter at all, but the end goal is not knowledge; it's faith. Faith is a weird concoction that is centered in the soul. To develop it, it's not enough just to teach to the emotions. Certainly there's a big dose of motivation involved in faith, but I can't will myself to believe in nothing. On the other hand, an approach that teaches only to the brain doesn't work either. I can memorize lots of doctrine but utterly reject the idea that it's important enough to build my life around.

So how do I teach a soul? It's pretty difficult.

But take heart - God is already at work. As I alluded to in last week's post, in God, kids can have a living, breathing, 24/7 mentoring presence in their lives who is wiser and more available than you are. And when you consider that the ultimate goal is that kids would meet God - not just learn things about him - it makes sense that he's pretty central to the process, doesn't it?

So what if we thought a little bit differently about the task? What if we considered that even now, as you read this, God is in pursuit of your child? That he is working to make himself known, and extending an invitation for them to know him? Then it turns out that all the work we do isn't building upon nothing. Rather, we are coming alongside the work God is already doing, facilitating an introduction.

To do that, we have to be perceptive, because the channels God is using to reach each kid might vary from one to the next. And the way he wants to work in their lives surely varies. Where is God moving? What is he trying to do? Many times when I've taken counselors to summer or winter camps, I've advised them, "Don't get in the way of what the Holy Spirit is trying to do." If we find ourselves working at cross-purposes to, or even opposing, what God's trying to do, we'll find ourselves frustrated. Unnecessarily frustrated!

He is the lead teacher; we come alongside. We don't create anything; God is already alive. We need not package and deliver something grand and clever, or think that we must talk kids into loving good behavior. God's already got the plan, and it's far superior to any educational program we could plan, because it's the fullness of who he is. Bring kids to that; not to school.