Here were some headlines this week: "New details of attempted school abduction released." "Babysitter accused of sexually assaulting kids with boyfriend, boasts in texts." "Teen girl found guilty of starting Cocos fire." Yep - we've got some problems. And it's only natural to want some quick solutions. But does our desperation to escape the terror-of-the-moment create misplaced trust, and cause us to celebrate prematurely? I think it does.
When we (kids of the 70s and 80s) were growing up, our parents were terrified that we'd use drugs, that we'd eat Halloween candy laced with something, or that we'd come under the influence of Satanic messages backmasked in rock music. And there were a lot of urgent solutions thrown their way. But by today's standards, they were either an overreaction, or they failed to make lasting change.
Take the D.A.R.E. program. Drug Abuse Resistance Education started in 1983 and quickly went nationwide. The theory was that if you spoke openly and honestly to kids about the dangers of drug use, they'd realize the danger and steer clear of drugs. The problem was, it didn't work. Multiple studies showed that while kids certainly learned about all kinds of controlled substances, their attitudes - and more importantly, their behavior - were unaffected. In California, by the time students reached high school, 90 percent of them had neutral or negative feelings about the D.A.R.E. program and its message.
Ask someone why it failed and you'll gain real insight into their faith in education to change behavior. Some people would contend that D.A.R.E. wasn't explicit enough - that given more truth, kids would be less likely to make a bad choice. Others would make the opposite claim - that the more aware you make kids of drugs, the more likely they are to be interested in trying them. (The same argument is used against talking about suicide.) Either one assumes that information is the key element in decisionmaking.
But we know better. We don't always act logically. We don't always act in our best interests. Or, sometimes we do, but we break rules and trample on the rights of others in doing so. Things are "slanted", if you will, away from decisions and behavior that are just (reflecting God's balanced design), and toward conduct that is unfair, unbalanced, deceitful, manipulative, and wrong.
The gospel - the good news of Jesus - is the antidote. The gospel is a supernatural salvage operation designed to rescue us from the earthquake devastation brought on by our sin. The gospel's goals are often in harmony with pro-social ideals, but not every pro-social idea is the good news. That puts Christians in a tough spot: how can someone argue against drug abuse education, or bullying prevention, or character education? Who wants to be branded pro-drugs, or pro-bullying, or anti-character?
The answer is that the gospel makes a bigger claim than any other behavior-change initiative. The gospel's claim is personal and community transformation, and less drug abuse, less suicide, less domestic violence, less bullying, and less estrangement from one another are all fruits of the gospel's work. They are not the direct objectives; they are the overflow.
Even the D.A.R.E. program, which for years denied the research that said the program wasn't working, has recognized that merely teaching about a problem and exhorting kids to change doesn't work. And they've changed their approach because of it. It takes more than information to change a person. You have to touch on motivation, family makeup, cultural forces, emotional development, and overcoming harmful patterns. In other words, everything about a person, from the inside-out. Quick fixes don't do that. And our church programs, if they aim too low, don't do it either. The goals may be commendable, and kids can nod in assent to the material that's presented, but if they fail to touch the level of real life, in the long term, nothing will change.
Info, articles, and thoughts for parents of kids at North Coast Calvary Chapel.
