What should we teach kids about other religions?

We're about to embark on a meaty series in our classroom called "What's So Special About Christianity?" This was born out of a desire voiced by several parents that we address in some way the subject of other religions. A few months ago I heard from two separate parents about an assignment their sixth grader was given that involved identifying a "favorite" god or goddess from another religion and profiling him or her.

Learning about world religions is a standard part of the sixth grade world history curriculum in California. Juxtapose that with the fact that our kids have significant knowledge gaps when it comes to their own religion (such as the lack of Bible understanding I wrote about last week) and the problem presents itself: we have some choices to make. It would be irresponsible not to teach kids something about other belief systems, but what, and how much?

For the record, I think the "choose your favorite god/goddess" assignment is offensive to people of any religion. Gods are sacred, a concept we've lost hold of in today's world. They are not toys or Disney characters to be merely admired or be printed on t-shirts. I don't have to be a relativist to believe that, nor to understand that disrespect for spiritual beings in general leads to disrespect in specific - literally, profanity. If I ever hope to bring someone to a belief in God, the specialness of God must be preserved.

So a good starting point with kids is to have them recognize the sacred/secular distinction, that a spiritual reality exists and that man has long reached out for it and wanted to connect with it. And that from a Christian perspective, God has reciprocated, not staying distant, but offering himself in relation to people - Emmanuel, "God with us".

I've always been uncomfortable with the idea of "teaching" another religion because I'm not an expert in other religions and I'd probably get it wrong. And, on the other hand, I don't like the idea of a non-Christian - either a schoolteacher or another religious leader - representing Christianity. I've long thought that in education, when presenting an ideology or philosophy, it's best to let kids hear from primary sources, and I would hope anyone doing a comparative religions course would incorporate that practice. A high school teacher once extended me that courtesy and it was a privilege to have an hour to speak to her students and field their questions.

No, I can't teach about other religions and do them justice. Instead, I think it's much more helpful to ground kids in the distinctives of their faith and guide them to an understanding of where Christian thought clashes with what passes for contemporary American spirituality, a kind of pop paganism that values the power of positive thinking, materialism, and self-gratification. After all, it's rare to encounter someone - even someone who professes to follow another religion - who is pure in their ideology. Among Christians alone there is great variety of belief on all sorts of minor issues, and regarding the majors, some Christians hold on more tightly than others. But what entices people away often isn't whole bodies of thought, but individual nuggets of truth that work for them - a belief in karma, for example - and at the same time lead them away from a Christian worldview.

It would be easy to teach kids that other religions are weird or strange or nonsensical, but is it helpful? All that has to happen is that they meet one person (a Buddhist, say) who shatters the stereotype they were taught and they begin to suspect that everything they were taught about other belief systems was based on suspicion and ignorance. Better to get into the "stuff" of the religion and examine those elements upon which the worldview is founded, in light of what the Bible tells us about who we are and why we're here and what is real.

These are the "distinctives" we're going to explore. I believe that each is threatened by a modernist, pop spirituality:

• The eternality of the soul (or, one life, one death, one judgment)
• A created being's purpose is tied to its creator
• God is a God of intimate involvement, not distant administration
• Humans have a sinful nature
• Only the power of God, not works or moral choices, can free us from the consequences of our sin
• The inherent imbalances in a world filled with free choices (or, why karma cannot explain the world)

Obviously, what you see above is the adult-language version of what the kids will get - "eternality" isn't a 10-year-old's word, but it is a 10-year-old's concept. Can a kid understand that we were created to worship and serve God, or that we possess an unquenchable desire to do wrong, or that their creator wants to personally shepherd them? I think they can. And come to think of it, they'd better, if we ever have hope of passing on a body of belief in a culture that increasingly brings a consumerist and pragmatic mindset to the practice of religion.

Bible-less Christianity

We Americans love to beat ourselves up when it comes to "what we don't know" about such-and-such. Maybe this is healthy, the ability to laugh at ourselves and our inability to name the vice president, or the capital city of England, or the words to the Star-Spangled Banner. More than a few social commentators have noted that although we live in an age awash in information, we're not particularly better informed because of it.

Christianity has not been untouched by this. For years, researcher George Barna has been tracking American's attitudes, beliefs, and practices when it comes to the Bible and has been sounding the alarm: our level of Bible understanding is dismal. Which leads to the question: what happens to Christianity when people can't, or won't, read their Bibles?

Let's draw two crucial distinctions. The first is the diference between reading the Bible and knowing the Bible. While 96% of evangelical Christians typically read the Bible during a week, this doesn't necessarily translate into Bible understanding or integration. Consider, according to Barna:

• The most widely-known Bible verse among adult and teen believers is "God helps those who help themselves" - which is not actually in the Bible, and actually conflicts with the basic message of Scripture.
  
• When given thirteen basic teachings from the Bible, only 1% of adult believers firmly embraced all 13 as being biblical perspectives.
  
• Less than one out of every ten believers possesses a biblical worldview as the basis for his/her decision-making or behavior.

Much of this, I believe, stems from the way the Bible is taught and habitually read, which is in bite-sized devotional chunks, rather than as a collection of writings which each had an occasional purpose. Our tendency to snatch verses here and there because they give us comfort or affirm a truth or are otherwise personally meaningful is penny-wise and pound-foolish: we know the words of scripture, but have no grasp of the message.

Take, for instance, the book of 1 Corinthians. There was a reason 1 Corinthians was written, and it was not to give us the verse "I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God made it grow" (3:6) or so that we would have a nice passage on love (chapter 13) to read at weddings! Instead, 1 Corinthians actually has a message, a purpose for which it was written, which was to address the specific controversies and problems that were dividing the church at Corinth, a port and commercial city where sexual immorality was widespread. The "Love Chapter" falls at the end of a discourse on spiritual gifts - apparently the church was divided over which gifts were to be most highly esteemed. Paul intends to show them "the most excellent way" - that if the exercise of gifts is not accompanied by love (agape love, not marital or erotic love), they are worth nothing. Read this way, 1 Corinthians 13 takes on a whole new light: it wasn't written for weddings at all!

Does that make it wrong to employ that scripture for that purpose? Well, no, but the point not to be missed is that once we start "applying" scripture indiscriminately, there's really no check on that. This is exactly how Jesus has been appropriated by all sorts of groups that want nothing to do with Christians but everything to do with Jesus' teachings - based on a particular verse they pulled out of the gospels. Read just the Sermon on the Mount and you can make Jesus pro-peace, pro-poverty relief, pro-works righteousness, anti-public prayer, anti-national defense, and anti-Individual Retirement Accounts, if you select just the right verses.

So, we have a great need to teach people how to read the Bible, because the method matters. But a second distinction needs to be drawn, and that is the difference between being unable to read and being unwilling to read. The inability to read is what we know as illiteracy, and can be remedied through instruction. But our kids aren't illiterate. What we're up against instead is the tendency towards a-literacy. An aliterate generation can read, but chooses not to.

And why don't they read? Too many distractions, less time, busier schedules, a more demanding amount of homework (much of it of dubious value), amateur sports leagues, video games and iPods - all of these are culprits. But an added consideration when it comes to the Bible is that Bible reading may not be considered necessary. Why read the Bible when there's no truth to be had there? If my interpretation is as good as yours, then there's no need to store it or think on it; I'll just turn to it when I feel like I need it. It's the McChurch phenomenon extended to personal devotions.

It's not impossible to minister to an aliterate generation, but the modern church, which is grounded in assumptions of literacy, is ill-suited for it. Indeed, it can be argued that Protestantism itself was founded on the proposition that the Church ought to follow the Bible and that individuals had the right and obligation to read scripture for themselves in order to hold the Church in line. Aliteracy is a great challenge for the Church because it leaves the Church fairly foundationless. Who gets to decide what is true, but even more, what is important and necessary and deserving of the church's time and attention if there is no written Rule to follow? Should a church evangelize, educate, advocate, fund-raise, caretake, respite, build, progress, conserve? The answers are grounded in one's theology of the Church, which ought to be drawn from the Bible. But if the Bible is irrelevant, or doesn't make sense, or believed to contain myriad meanings, then that theology will be formed from something else.

At least in a culture that was unable to read (first-century Gentile Christians, medieval commoners, for example), there was a willingness to defer to those whose job it was to read and understand. This was not necessarily a good thing. The lack of accountability that comes when only a privileged few can read the Bible led to egregious corruption in the medieval Church. The dissenters who did try to keep the Church within scriptural bounds were silenced with punishment. But the opposite extreme, in which everyone weighs in with a subjective interpretation, is also unhealthy. How many of us have sat in a small group where the discussion proceeds this way: "Let's go around the circle and everyone tell what this verse means to them"? Eight varying interpretations later, the group moves on to the next verse, and so on, as if the purpose of the passage was to to facilitate collective navel gazing. Verses, passages, and books of the Bible do have a meaning, but it is the one meaning that the author intended. That scripture is "living and active" does not mean we can yank it out of context and claim that the meaning of a particular passage is "what it means to me".

It is that terrible habit of Bible reading, I am afraid, that has led to the sort of Biblical anarchy we have today. Nothing means anything, your truth is as good as my truth, and "experiencing" God or the Holy Spirit's presence is held to be the be-all-to-end-all of religious life. I read of one church that dispensed with its Christian Education program for children in order to bring them into the adult service so that they, too, could participate in the speaking in tongues and giving prophetic words. Huh? Meanwhile, "more than half of all adults (53%) believe that if a person is generally good, or does enough good things for others during their life, they will earn a place in Heaven" (Barna) and "more than two out of every five adults (41%) believe that when Jesus Christ lived on earth He committed sins" (Barna again).

The answers are complex, particularly because churches haven't been effective in teaching people how to read the Bible, only in urging that they should. That's another way of saying that if tomorrow every Christian suddenly started reading the Bible, the problem wouldn't be solved. We need a conversation and a re-examination of what the Bible is and how it is to be used in our everyday lives. Is it the "Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth" (B.I.B.L.E.)? Is it God's rulebook for our lives? Is it the answer to all of life's problems? Is it a history book, a science book, a textbook? Until we can articulate what the Bible is for, it will fail to warrant the attention of non-readers.

Our attempt at this, such as it is, is the class "Stumped by the Bible?" which will be offered for the first time beginning this Saturday. For $20 and three weeks of your time (a parent must attend with their kid), you'll get an overview of the Old and New Testament, a handy mnemonic for remembering the major events of the Bible and their sequence, a method called the "B.I.B.L.E." method (no, not basic instructions before leaving earth) for reading it, a brief sketch of how the Bible came to be, and a handy reference guide called "Turning Your Bedroom Into a Bible College." Call or e-mail us to register. We'll make a Bible reader out of your son or daughter yet.

The Good in Good Friday

Just in case you've forgotten, the kid year revolves around holidays. Any first grader knows that each month has its own colors, sights, and sounds specific to one or more holidays, and their observance - which often mean a day off from school - not only is the way to mark the progression of the school year, but provides the reason for near-constant celebration.

September is Labor Day - not much of a holiday, but maybe a trip weekend, but it just gets better from there. October has Halloween; November, Thanksgiving; and December, the granddaddy of them all - Christmas. New Year's Day for a kid is actually December 26, the day we begin looking forward to Christmas again. February brings Valentine's Day - usually the occasion for some school party, March is St. Patrick's, and April brings Easter and Spring Break. May is relatively holiday-free, but by that time you're in the home stretch for summer, so who cares? And of course, somewhere in there falls a kid's birthday, the second holiest day behind Christmas. Summer is a holiday of its own.

The reason holidays are so attractive to kids is that they possess all of the elements that make kid life fun and memorable - bright colors, presents, special songs, hats or costumes, stories, and often, candy. Each is memorable and distinct because the observance makes it tangible.

So this Easter, my message to parents is this: Don't miss the boat on Good Friday.

Of all of my memories of church growing up, Good Friday would stand out as the most impactful day of the church year. Not Christmas - we were too pumped about what awaited us at home. And not Easter Sunday - that was really just church with a LOT of people there. But on Good Friday, the rawness and reality of the crucifixion was driven home.

For us, that meant Friday night church and a somber service where the last words of Jesus were explained. There was a giant wooden cross at the front of the church, and as each of the seven messages concluded, another set of lights was extinguished until only a spotlight remained on the cross. The last act was the raising of a giant black veil over the cross. Everyone was requested to leave the church in silence (for some reason I believed the pastors were bound by this until Sunday morning), and even though someone in our family would break this silence in the car on the way home, those 5-10 minutes of reflection left a huge impact on my 10-year-old brain. So much so, that 25 years later I can remember that the pastor concluded his final message in this way:

"Sunday we'll celebrate Jesus' resurrection, but tonight we don't look ahead. Tonight we're left where the disciples were on Good Friday - facing a dead Jesus. Not a sleeping Jesus...or a sick Jesus...but a dead Jesus." Powerful stuff.

Commercialism has no interest in Good Friday, and as a result, the symbols today still mean the same thing they meant then: the cross, the nails, the crown of thorns, the tomb. The death of Jesus is a reality that deserves to be faced, because it brings meaning to his sacrifice and also accentuates the miracle of the resurrection. The way we talk about the Easter event has become almost cliche: Jesus died on the cross and rose again. Ho hum. More accurately: Jesus was murdered, the disciples were anguished and scared and confused, and God supernaturally raised him from the dead in order to crown him as king. Good Friday brings us to the version of the story that ought to be told, because it captures the suspense and the drama and the heartache - the passion, if you will - of the death of Jesus.

Children are not too young to get this, but they won't get it if they're not exposed to it. You need not screen The Passion of the Christ in your living room; but simply constructing a wooden cross, letting kids touch and hammer nails into it, looking at depictions of the walk to Calvary, the raising of the crosses, the moment of Jesus' death - these lend a dose of reality to an old, old story. And if you think your kids are old enough, there are other movies less graphic than Passion that depict the crucifixion act.

Good Friday is good for Christians, and by that I mean not that it's meaningful, which of course it is, but that it has great utility. It recounts that at a particular, identifiable point in space-time history, the incarnate God, Jesus, was robbed of his life and that mankind, momentarily, lost its light. Easter completes the story, that Jesus didn't stay dead, and that hope was restored to the world. But on Friday, we rest in the place of sorrow that was very real. That's ok.

Maybe the reason kids love holidays so much is that they attach deep meaning to what are otherwise ordinary days. They give kids a sense of history. They cause us to sit up and take notice. Good Friday helps kids experience the reality of death in a way that causes them to fully appreciate the significance of hope.

Turn It Off! How TV makes us all dumber (ok, not all of us, and not exactly dumber, but we'd all surely be sharper with less of it)

First, a confession and disclaimer. I am not one to cast stones when it comes to TV viewing. I view plenty of it, and long have. Save for a four-month period when I deliberately stashed my TV in the closet in order to read and listen to the radio, it has been the background noise of my life. But, in the same way as I recognize the unhealthiness of soda consumption, yet drink it anyway, I do believe TV consumption has a corrosive effect on our potential to learn, to communicate, and to relate - and that's the subject of this week's post.

Last week I wrote about the connection between the act of reading and spiritual formation. My point was not to say that kids who are poor readers can't grow spiritually, only to point out that reading compliments spiritual growth, because when we read, we employ many of the same disciplines that help develop our spiritual muscles. The opposite is true of television: by its very nature and what it demands from a viewer, it's a detriment to spirituality; and as far as kids are concerned, the less of it, the better.

How does TV hurt us? Three ways, principally: it's a poor teacher, it makes us passive, and it cheapens our discourse - and all as a byproduct of being what it is. The danger that screen media (TV, movies, and some Internet sites) pose to spiritual development in children doesn't lie in the content, but in the nature of electronic media itself to discourage active engagement. With TV, we're just kind of…there.

If it's true that the best teaching answers the questions students are already asking, TV is the antithesis of that: you have to take whatever you get. For young kids especially this is not good, and in fact we know that TV viewing could impact more than just their potential to learn, but their very ability to learn as well. What science tells us about brain development in children adds urgency to the need to immerse kids in engaging, active learning environments. A baby's brain is rapidly establishing new nerve connections (trillions of them), literally building "brain highways" that will endure for all of life. But, this process doesn't continue forever. Around age ten, it slows down, and nerve endings that remain unattached begin to die off. (See - those of you who suspected kids lost their minds when they hit puberty - there's something to that!) What happens with our brains, then, during the first ten years of life is utterly crucial in determining how we will think and learn forever. And there are no "do overs"! That's why the American Academy of Pediatrics recommends no screen media time, ever, for kids under 2, because a developing brain needs for the baby to be able to manipulate its environment in order to learn. TV gives them just the opposite of that.

But just because you're older than 10, don't go running for the remote. Television works against us because it makes us passive. Not inactive, as in, we could be exercising instead, but passive, in the sense that it requires nothing of us. What's more, we couldn't give back to it if we wanted to. A television program can't answer our questions, doesn't really care for our reactions, isn't concerned with whether we need something repeated or just need to ponder it for a while. And even if the creators of shows did care, there's nothing they could do about it - because the show must go on.

And so we, as viewers, learn not to think, but just to receive, which in turn affects our perception of the world (particularly when it comes to world events) as a place where "things just happen." This phenomena is documented brilliantly in a 1986 book by Neil Postman titled Amusing Ourselves to Death. A viewer might see or hear something that confuses or intrigues or excites or saddens them, but they have no way to engage the messenger and thus no ability to affect the next message, or the next, or the next. You cannot set aside a TV program and write about it or think about it or dialogue about it (TiVo excepted) without missing the next! exciting! development! You are left with a choice: think actively about what you're watching, and miss the rest of the show, or stop thinking and merely absorb the cavalcade of images. If you've ever been watching TV with others and wanted badly to comment on something, but didn't for fear of missing what was coming next, you've experienced this.

Television actually works against one's ability to grasp hold of an idea, to wrestle with it and truly understand it. In this way, TV is the exact opposite of a good conversation or a good teacher: it does all the talking. TV will not let you think very deeply, and it does not invite your interaction. Yet these all need to happen if we are to learn.

The third harm from TV is the cheapening effect it has on our communication with one another. I'm withholding judgment on e-mail, instant messaging, and text messaging because I think the jury is out on those: they've resuscitated written interpersonal communication and allowed us to maintain fellowship with a wider circle than ever before. But TV's negative influence on discourse stems from its interference with one's ability to read well, which in turn affects one's tendency to read at all, which in turn affects one's ability to have meaningful conversations (because there is nothing of substance to talk about). (And this is the downside to the aforementioned text messaging instant messaging: most of the messages teenagers exchange are empty and banal. As Henry David Thoreau noted about the telegraph, "We are in great haste to construct a magnetic telegraph from Maine to Texas; but Maine and Texas, it may be, have nothing important to communicate.")

All of this - the way TV dulls us, disengages us, distances us from real-world interaction, and causes us to read less - amounts to a hindrance for spiritual development. How? It robs us of the skills and knowledge required to carry on a spiritual relationship. Am I saying that TV viewers can't have spiritual lives? Not at all. What I am saying is that the richness of one's spirituality will be molded by habits of mind, heart, and hands - that is, our tendencies when it comes to thinking and processing, empathizing and valuing, interacting and serving. At a very basic level, families who spend lots of time individually watching TV and little time talking to one another grow apart. It's for this reason that families are urged to eat dinner together and have conversations, with the TV off. Similarly, kids who are conditioned to immediately turn on the TV when they walk into a room or can't stand solitude will find the prospect of spending 15 minutes of alone time with God unappealing and impossible. There are kids I've encountered in educational and church settings who are practically incapable of answering a question or having a dialogue because they are so unused to that, preferring instead to be talked to, which is what TV does best.

What's the answer? It's too simple to say "turn it off", despite the title of this article, because like any habit, it takes time to break. Moreover, we're hooked: every favorite show has become Must-See-TV, and to repeat, I'm not claiming any special exemption from TV's spell. But most kids would do better with less of it, particularly if it was replaced with a healthier alternative. It's probably not a good idea to wean your young TV junkie for the express purpose of having him sit alone in his room 20 minutes with his Bible. Some kids may be ready for that, but most would resent it. However, anything that involves fellowship and parent-child communication and engagement is a great substitute. Go to a museum. Go to the mountains. Go to a skatepark. Go clean up trash. Walk a neighbor's dog. Go learn a new sport. Go outside and play. Work up to family devotion time, then encourage individual devotions. And whatever you do, talk about it, before, during, and after. Brains were meant to learn that way. Kids were meant to grow that way. God is meant to be related to that way.

May your journey from the realm of electronic clamor to unexceptional tranquility be blessed, successful, and worth it.

Turn It Off!

Is television curbing our appetite for the Almighty?

You always suspected it was so, didn't you? Now, an article in the Christian Education Journal supports it, but not for the reasons you may think. It isn't worldly themes or immoral content on TV or in movies that does the damage, but the nature of electronic media itself. Put another way, you could be watching Leave It to Beaver or The Real World -- it wouldn't matter; being plugged in stunts spiritual growth, especially in children.

The article by Linda Callahan, a child and adolescent therapist in Chattanooga, TN, lays out the idea that reading is the great casualty of kids' constant exposure to electronic media. Spending their days bombarded by what Callahan calls, "the Noise", there's no time and little inclination to spend time with printed material. The consequences for spiritual development are fascinating, and challenging.

Why does reading matter for spirituality? It's not so much that the accumulation of knowledge through reading produces a disciple; rather, that the same disciplines employed in reading - silence, solitude, study (and when a parent is reading to a child, fellowship) - happen to be those that are integral to the process of spiritual formation. By contrast, the inability (or distaste for or unwillingness) to reflect, to contemplate, to compose one's own thoughts or to understand the composition of another's - all of this has an effect on our ability to relate.

Sunday School, by its nature, has never been very good at teaching the relational aspect of Christianity. Classes are too big to allow for the kind of individualized questioning that would be needed to be helpful. Moreover, the kinds of questions that ought to be asked don't lend themselves to black-and-white responses. Sunday schools are good at being, well, schools, which always trend towards efficiency and quantifiable measures, rather than qualitative ones. As a result, a child can be really good at Sunday school, delivering all the right responses, but really bad at being a Christian.

Relationships, on the other hand, require the development of a particular set of skills, and the uniqueness of each child guarantees that these skills will develop at uneven rates, making "normal" or "standard" or even "expected" achievement a relatively worthless concept. The task for anyone who cares about child spirituality isn't how to ensure that kids acquire more knowledge, but how to give them practice in growing the ability to relate to an unseen God.

And this brings us back to reading, which itself requires those same abilities but which itself is also threatened in an increasingly wired world. Says Callahan, "In subtle and not so subtle ways, television and film are contributing to the indifference to Christian spirituality and to the high levels of alienation and purposelessness that are common in children, youth and adults today." However, the act of reading, which involves time alone, free from distraction, decoding and understanding written messages, helps to build the sort of skills (and, I would contend, even the temperament) needed to experience a relationship with God.

First, Callahan suggests, "Noise-free reading times should be a part of each day," and that "to get started the entire family should go the library." Parents and kids should own books, lots of them, and time spent exposed to electronic media should be sharply monitored. Care to guess how much time the American Academy of Pediatrics recommends is advisable for children under age 2 to spend each day in front of "screen media" (television and videos)? Exactly none; yet even this uncle of five has given DVDs as gifts recently, because videos of favorite cartoons have become so standard a part of early childhood it's hard to imagine a home without them. Exactly what's wrong with TV viewing, apart from its robbing time from reading, is the subject of next week's blog, but Christian parents would do well to heed Callahan's warning: there's far too much of it in almost every home.

Moreover, she writes, "Christians must deliberately counter the effects of the Noise within the church." From the nursery right up to the adult service, "modern" churches are marked by the degree to which they've employed video, graphics, musical and lighting elements that emulate professional stage productions - in other words, "the Noise". Therefore, it's important to understand that the prescription for Christian Education programs is not necessarily sustained silent reading (which would be impossible anyhow with young children) but the nurturing of disciplines - habits of heart, life, and mind - that foster spiritual development. Classrooms should be places of fellowship, not passive silence. The assumption that a quiet classroom indicates more learning and is therefore the key to spiritually flourishing kids needs serious reexamination. It isn't a question of whether classrooms ought to be noisy or quiet, but the effect of either on children's engagement: does it promote activity or passivity?

"The Noise" is not going away. But Christians can go away from The Noise. Daily unplugging and avoidance may prove to be not only a choice, but a necessity for healthy spirituality.

The Incredible Influence of Dad

This weekend my dad was inducted into the Wrestling Hall of Fame in North Dakota. In the 1960s, when the sport was just beginning in that state, he won back-to-back state titles (something he downplays) but his greatest impact was made in nearly 40 years of high school coaching.

Of course the thing about Halls of Fame or honorary banquets or tributes or toasts or awards presentations is that they are momentary, and they are one-dimensional. If you want to know who a person really is, it can only be pieced together from the firsthand knowledge of those who've spent lots of time at their side. I suspect any kid whose parent has ever done anything noteworthy knows this: awards recognize what someone has done, but only begin to scratch the surface of who they are.

I recount this because I imagine there are parents reading this right now who are wrapped up in a rat race, gunning for some promotion or leveraging their own advancement or trying to cement a big deal or hoping to impress some power broker. Let me assure you: where you go professionally, as important as it is to you, won't matter nearly as much to your kids. They already know how great you are.

Dad decided early what he wanted to do with his life, and he followed through with a steadfastness that is rare and admirable. His three kids - myself and two sisters - have already proven unable to do what he did, which is to hold down the same position at the same school and do it well for 39 years. (We have each moved in and out of (and in one case, back into) education.) Teaching is tiring - physically and mentally. Coaching at any level is emotional. It helps to have a winning team, but Dad's teams didn't always win. They were occasionally great, often average, and sometimes terrible. The most we ever felt this was some weekend grumpiness now and then, but by Sunday night he'd bounce back to his normal self and when you heard him whistling and grading papers you knew all was well again. And when, in 2006, it was time to be done, he was done. There was nothing sentimental or magic to him about reaching the 40-year plateau.

I'm not one who happens to believe that we can fairly evaluate ourselves: who we think we are and who others perceive us to be are usually quite different, and the truth is usually closer to what others see (I find that we tend to be too harsh or too charitable towards ourselves). So as to how much of my dad I carry in me, you'd have to ask someone else. I can, however, readily recognize his influence on my sisters.

All three of us siblings are pretty pragmatic. That comes straight from Dad. If it didn't work, he'd try to fix it, and if he couldn't fix it, well, you'd have to live without it. "It's easier to get forgiveness than permission" was his motto, and it was rare that he couldn't get one or the other. His tastes are simple (so are each of ours) and he never displayed an appetite for wealth. He fought for the underdog. Wrestling sometimes attracted kids who were rough around the edges, and he welcomed the chance to give them something constructive to do - "Maybe this will change them," he'd say. When we played softball with the neighborhood kids, he developed a rotation system that constantly circulated players from batting to fielding and as a result there were no teams and no losers and no score - just fun, which was all anyone wanted. As the head of the teacher's union he advocated for fair pay, and in later years, when he himself was near the top of the salary scale, he pushed for pay increases to go to starting teachers rather than veterans, saying, "They need it more than we do." He felt strongly about that. My sisters have carried that seed of justice into their own lives. As the only boy in the family, I was the only one to wrestle for him (girls didn't wrestle, not in his world; he felt especially strongly about that!). While Mom ran the day-to-day operations of our house - the meals, the school shopping, the scheduling - and also much of the discipline, when Dad spoke up to discipline, you knew it was serious and that was it.

Men, especially great men, are driven by vision. They imagine what could be and set out to achieve or establish it. Sometimes the task takes precedence over the people involved, and the product is a damaging ambition. But it's also that doggedness in men that suits them to be good dads. Men - and dads - dream big. They're wired to lead and conquer. The effect of such vision on kids can be powerful. For my dad and I, this played out in the realm of academic science competitions, another passion of his that started 23 years ago and continues to this day. Spurred by what we saw at the national level, our creations got each year better and ever-more complex, and we did in fact win national awards for them. What I learned from this was to set my sights high, to seek out the best and then better it.

What would happen if every man pursued the future and the health and the reputation of his kids as doggedly as he pursued achievement in his own life? What if dads turned the power of their vision onto the direction of their sons and daughters? Some of us fear the answer, based on our experience with dads who vicariously lived through their kids, pushing them in directions and at speeds they didn't want to go. But what if, at the same time a dad was training his vision on the future of his kids, he was equipped with the qualities of empathy and compassion and tenderness - in a word, his humanity - so that he developed a keen sense of when to push and when to hold back? The answer is, you'd have a really great dad; but not only that, you'd have a really great kid.

We need more dads like that, and the church has a role in calling men to that level of responsibility. Honestly, we can imagine and build great cities, industrial plants, robotic technology, and space travel; can we not also cast a vision for kids that lifts them above despair, boredom, self-debasement, and a future as pawns in this consumerist melee? A vision that dreams for them the realization of their identity in Jesus Christ and fulfillment of each one's God-given potential? More simply, why doesn't men's natural ambition translate into the betterment of our kids? More bluntly, if men are such natural go-getters, why are so many kids becoming losers?

How do we train dads, not to replace moms, but to be great at realizing their big dreams among people? The great barrier is our natural bent as men to bring a project approach to the table, to see everything in absolutes, to dismiss nonconformity as an obstacle to solutions (when in fact nobody is normal). Nowhere is the imperative stronger to round out dads' humanness than in raising their daughters. Our culture has minimized the role of dads and has certainly not trained them. Most men, having once been boys, can figure out what boys need from them; but it's not so easy raising a girl. Girls think and process differently, they feel differently, they learn differently, and they are motivated differently. (It's all most men can do to understand their wives!) But what if men were trained to be in tune with what their daughters need from them?

We're going to try. On February 28, Jeff Moore will begin a four-session class for dads of pre-teen girls. Using the book, Dad's Everything Book for Daughters, this class will explore how to better communicate with girls, spend meaningful time with them, listen to them and be a source of strength. The book is by renowned parenting expert John Trent, and Jeff, who is the father of a 5th grade girl and a 2nd grade boy, will also share his own experience with becoming an in-touch dad. Call me if you want in, or just show up at 6:00 on the 28th.

Most dads intuitively know what they want for their daughters, and being a man they know what makes a woman respectable and even admirable in the eyes of other men. How do they take their daughters there? The more I reflect on my own upbringing, the more I am convinced that home is the crucible that forges us for the rest of our whole life and seldom do we change from the course we're set on there. I hope you, if you father a girl aged 9-12 (or thereabout) will invest four weeks with us that could make a profound influence on the woman she is to become.

An Experiment Using Film

This Friday night we're showing the film Remember the Titans, in the hopes that we've hit upon one more way to open dialogue between parents and kids.

Those familiar with our ministry will know that I am a fan of using dialogue to teach, and anything that promotes dialogue between kids and grown-ups on important topics is a great tool. I believe movies - and increasingly, television shows - provide fertile ground for such conversations, because they place parent and child side-by-side in the role of observers and critics. A kid can more easily see behavior and attitudes objectively as an outsider, and recognizing and naming qualities - admirable and undesirable - in others is a great step toward mature self-examination. Secondly, it asks kids to recognize the invisible undercurrent of values that drive people's behavior. We are more likely to see and recognize false value systems in a context removed from our own. Related to that, watching a film as a family and then talking about it provides practice in being a discerning media consumer. Finally, identifying with characters in movies is an exercise in perspective-taking, which is an ingredient in empathy.

The downside to movie and television portrayals is their unreality. But that, too, can be turned to a strength when viewing is paired with discussion. Questions like Is that character someone to admire? or Would you have made the same decision? or What in this movie wouldn't have happened in real life? are essential for helping kids develop their critical filters.

The film we've chosen for the first night is Remember the Titans. Based on a true story, Titans takes us back to 1971, where T.C. Williams High School in Alexandria, VA, has recently been integrated. When a black teacher is hired to replace the white head football coach, the stage is set for prejudice and hard feelings on and off the field, among the team members and its fans alike. This 2000 film stars Denzel Washington, and Washington's coaching technique will be one of the topics up for discussion: is it right for him (or any coach) to scream at players or degrade them, as long as the team is successful? Is this leadership? How do we square this with Matthew 20, where Jesus says whoever wants to be great among you must be a servant?

Another theme worth exploring in this movie (there are many) is the issue of resolving conflict in a group of people. The players initially resent each other because of race, and it takes leadership by key players to begin to tear those walls down. How is Romans 12:14-16 instructive here?

You get the idea. The "gameplan" is to meet at 7, give the parents a brief rundown on the purpose of the night (although if you're reading this, you're getting it) while the kids get some recreation, start the movie, break at "halftime" for discussion questions, and play the rest of the movie, with some "car talk" questions sent with you for the way home. All should be wrapped up by 9:30.

As to content: According to Internet Movie Database (imbd.com) , the movie contains "at least" 2 instances of "damn", 1 of "hell", 1 utterance of "crap", 1 incomplete "S.O.B." and 2 uses of "swear to God" as expressions. So, if you've planned to bring younger siblings or if these words are a deal breaker, please be forewarned.

In all, this movie is very inspiring and stays true to the actual events as they happened. It can be a great launching point for talking with kids about the Civil Rights Movement and the desegregation of schools, too. And, movies bring families together.

The Internet Movie Database entry is here: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0210945/
with the imdb parent guide here: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0210945/parentalguide

The movie got a thumbs-up from Focus on the Family's "Plugged In Online" site: http://www.pluggedinonline.com/movies/movies/a0000481.cfm

And incidentally, if you're interested in using other movies at home, Focus on the Family has put out a few books with plotlines and suggested topics for discussion: check those out here.

2008 To Do List: Let's Bring God Into the Public Schools

Anyone who thinks that God has been banned from public schools ever since 1962 needs to check their history. Their recent history, that is.

Most Christians are familiar with (and shake their fists at) two Supreme Court decisions from the early 1960s, both ruling against teacher-led religious practices at the start of the school day. The first case involved prayer; the second, scripture readings.

But a lesser-known decision from 2001 is the more relevant one, opening the door for the gospel in public schools - if Christians are willing to seize the opportunity. In Good News Clubs v. Milford Central School the Court ruled that if a public school offers its facilities to any outside organizations for after school clubs, they must be made available to everyone. Quite plainly, religious clubs enjoy as much access as the Boy Scouts, art and drama clubs, or club sports teams.

Good News Clubs are a creation of Child Evangelism Fellowship and enjoyed accommodation in some school districts, but not all, which is what led to the 2001 case. What the decision did is clarify that Good News Clubs could not be kept out just because they were religious in nature. Or to put it another way, if a school lacks a Christian club, it isn't because the school is keeping them out, but because Christians haven't gone in.

How are we doing in San Diego? According to CEF's interactive website (you can view the county map here), there are 19 schools in Oceanside, 2 with clubs; 10 schools in Encinitas, 1 with a club; 10 schools in San Marcos, 2 with clubs; and 9 schools in Carlsbad, none with clubs.

So here's the opportunity: an after school club that meets at a school site one day a week, usually for the hour after school gets out, staffed by a team of volunteers, with curriculum and administrative support from CEF (they have an office in North County). The potential audience is any kid who goes to that school. Schools will usually send home the flier and permission slip announcing the club. The potential effect is huge.

What the club looks like is essentially a reflection of its makeup and the team running it. There is a book of lessons put out by CEF which form the backbone of the curriculum (and a separate set targeted at middle schools, although no middle school in the county currently has a club). But the environment and dynamic (games, music, skits, snacks, crafts) is limited only by the creativity and will of the organizers. CEF recommends that no fewer than six people form the team so there's plenty of help and supervision. It's also noted that the meeting time right after school makes it a convenient option for high school students looking to fulfill service hour requirements. What's more, a pastor in Encinitas has developed a strategy for bridging the gap between school clubs and churches, so the club can do what it does best - outreach - while funneling interested students into local churches for growth and discipleship.

There's another reason to love this Court decision. Not only does it give Christian groups access, but it actually promotes the presence of the gospel. One has to seriously question whether "God was in the schools" prior to 1962 by virtue of the prayer that was recited. The prayer in question in Engel v. Vitale went like this:

Almighty God, we acknowledge our dependence upon Thee, and we beg Thy blessings upon us, our parents, our teachers and our country. Amen.

Whether you believe such a prayer is sufficient, overly religious, or innocuous, it isn't the gospel, and doesn't begin to reach where an in-school club could reach. Furthermore, would you really want a public school teacher who may not be a Christian to be leading your kid in a prayer like that? I wouldn't. To me, that models hypocrisy: all that counts is the words, not the sentiment behind them.

An after-school club is totally legitimate: it is non-coercive - kids who come have chosen to come and are there with parental consent - it is convenient - no extra transportation by parents is needed - and it is easy for kids to invite friends to - it happens right on their turf. And it is led by a group of caring adults who want to invest in kids that might never darken the door of a church. Moreover, it visually demonstrates to Christian kids that God - and by extension, faith - doesn't live at church.

Sometimes I wonder if evangelicals prefer to curse the darkness than to light candles. We fixate on legal restrictions or the slightest bit of resistance and call it persecution. Give me a break. The real issue is whether we will step up to the opportunities we have. This is one such opportunity - a huge one.

Interested in hearing more? A small but growing team of people is meeting monthly to plan, pray, and strategize about establishing more clubs in North County. They're working to get the word out - to Moms in Touch groups, area churches, and anyone interested in reaching kids - about the possibilities. The next meeting is Tuesday, February 5, at noon at Coastline Community Church in Encinitas. Anyone is welcome to come. E-mail me if you want more info.

2008 To Do List: Let's Minister to Families

For some time now it's been fashionable for churches to assert that "parents are the primary disciplers of their children." This is sometimes offered as an assurance (we're not trying to take over your role), other times apologetically (we refuse to take over your role), and other times as a hedge against criticism (hey, we can only do so much!). But as I've written about (see, for instance, this post), the nature of partnership between parents and churches when it comes to the spiritual nourishment of kids is such that one need not fear the other, because the roles are distinct. Parents need churches - there are certain things a church body can accomplish that an individual family cannot - and churches need families - a church institution cannot surrogate for the individual care and nurturance that young souls need.

The problem is, in most churches - this one included - there isn't much bridging between the two environments. Going to church as a family entails splitting up once on-site and reuniting in the parking lot when it's time to go home. What happens in between constitutes "the ministry". Not that the ministering would necessarily be better if families merely stayed together; my entire family sat together in church weekly from birth-age 18, but that doesn't mean the church was "reaching" us as a family, collectively. Church remained an individualistic enterprise.

What does it mean, then, when we talk about ministering to whole families? I would suggest a few things:

1. Ministry to the family gives everyone a common language and facilitates further discussion. In spiritually nourishing home environments, God is talked about freely. One of the best things churches can do is put parents and kids on equal footing so there is actually something to talk about. Of course it's great whenever we touch on something in the 4th-6th grade class that paralleled the teaching in adult church, but this is always purely by coincidence. Am I suggesting that churches should coordinate their teaching series across age groups? I'm not. Some churches do this, but believing as I do that the content of a lesson should meet the needs of the learner - ideally, we need to be answering the questions they're already asking - I can't buy into prescribed curriculum. To me, it disregards a pastor's individual judgment, when in fact pastors are charged with "know[ing] well the condition of [their] flock." But what ministries can do is give their hearers a common language with which to dialogue about spiritual things. This is really a question of consistent theology: what does a church teach about who God is and how God works and his will for all mankind and the role of the church and the meaning of "salvation" and what it means to follow Jesus? Families who are of one heart and mind on these things will find it easy to support one another spiritually, and to pray.

2. Great ministry to families recognizes the need to develop the whole person. This would be in contrast to a view that sees the job of the church as equipping parents primarily to do religious instruction. The difference, I think, hinges on an understanding of the word "salvation" and, consequently, one's understanding of the role of the church in bringing this about. For if you view salvation as "crossing the goal line" and securing eternal life through the forgiveness of sin, you will value church for its work in proclaiming truth, and Christian Education largely takes on the form of presenting precepts and unchanging propositions. However, a more holistic (and I think correct) view of salvation takes into account the ongoing work of redemption; salvation begins with the forgiveness of sins, but it is not limited to that, and a child's ability to both enter into and experience the ongoing work of salvation will be shaped and limited by who they are - physically, emotionally, cognitively, and socially. Another way of saying this is to observe that each of us travels a different path to reach the one path, Jesus. Individual testimonies describe how a person entered a relationship with Christ, but they don't necessarily prescribe how that ought to happen.

All of this is to say that churches need to be mindful of the health of the whole person, and particularly with regard to children, their emotional development. To teach kids to be empathetic, to recognize emotions, to communicate, to resolve conflict, to assert their needs, to think critically - these are all proper for churches to teach, and they are not the same as merely talking about character values: be kind, be modest, be happy, be quiet, be sober, be abstinent. That teaches what to do but not how. Good ministry to families - to anyone, really - comes alongside of rather than stands facing; it talks with, not to. The better we are situated to meet individual needs, the better we will be able to equip families.

3. This relates to a third need, which is to network families together. Sometimes a sympathetic ear is worth more than loads of expert advice. There is great comfort in knowing you're not the only parent dealing with a defiant child, or an unbelieving spouse, or an unmotivated son, or an image-obsessed daughter. So in addition to putting the best resources and scholarship in the hands of parents, churches can do a service simply by bringing people together. The secondary effect of this is that childhood friendships sometimes grow out of adult ones. But this doesn't happen by accident. With kids from more than 88 different schools in the last 12 months in the 4th-6th grade alone, the reach of this church is vast. What do we do to bring people from disparate neighborhoods together, and even to get those who are geographically close to know that the other exists?

4. Finally, ministry to the family helps families in crisis. Much of this is already in place here; we just haven't done the best job of communicating it to you. That's changing. We're starting to recognize that the health of individual ministries is enhanced by collaboration among us, because we serve the same body. One example would be the appearance by Tim Smith last fall, and subsequent discussion group on his book, "The Danger of Raising Nice Kids." Another would be the upcoming night (Jan. 31) on Internet Safety with Brian Dixon - which will be offered at the same time as we're doing an outreach night for the kids just down the hall. Divorce Care for Kids has just started for the new year. Grief support groups are starting soon through the Caring Ministry. As we in 4th-6th grade continue to morph from "class" to "ministry" we are better able to identify families in need and refer them appropriately. There is no way for a "children's" ministry to provide all of this on its own. So while the size of a church like ours tends to impose anonymity, the upside is that we have a vast pool of resources here and are able to offer many specialized classes and groups.

We believe in families, and want to invest in them. Programming for families is tricky because it involves coordinating twice as many schedules and either providing content that's age-appropriate for both generations, or conducting parallel programs. So how we will deliver this is a work in progress. But the nature of the church-family partnership demands that we try, or we'll miss the opportunity that exists to give kids every spiritual advantage.

2008 To Do List: Let's Stop Running Successful Programs

There's a question I carry around with me in my binder, because it gnaws at me and constantly challenges me to refine and reshape what I do. I think if all churches focused on this question when it came to ministering to children, we'd spend our time - and the kids' time - a lot better than we do. I think we'd stop focusing on having kids jump through hoops and "majoring in the minors." We'd certainly start measuring our success differently, which would in turn affect the product we turned out.

The question is this: What is the best tangible benefit a kid can take away from involvement in our programs?

It's a question I need to keep coming back to because I am satisfied with the wrong things. When someone asks me "how did it go?", I am inclined to respond in terms of the turnout, or the efficiency of the execution, or whether or not someone got hurt, or whether or not a parent complained, or whether the program came off flawlessly, or whether or not I had to deal with discipline issues, or whether the room was set up just right. And the truth is, those things mean just about zip to the average kid.

When a kid leaves the room, they care if they were bored and they care if anyone talked to them and they care if they were made to feel important and they care that they had a good time. So, many of the marks of "success" are just pretty meaningless:

"The room was full." What is full? Double the room size and your crowd would have seemed tiny. Or, cut the room in half and you can all feel like you're in a crowded space. "Fullness" has no meaning.

"Everything went smoothly." Well, so what? Most organizational details are invisible to a kid, even though it makes us feel better to know there were enough nametags and the money came out just right and we started and ended exactly on time. The sun in kid world doesn't rise and set on such things.

"I felt good about it." Some nights put me on a high. Others make me feel low and empty. So what? The elements of a program that drive my feelings are far from those that help a kid make up his mind whether what he just came through was important or irrelevant, meaningful or boring, a future draw or something to avoid. Looks lie, and if we adults are honest, we would admit that aesthetic factors - usually the noise level - exercise greater influence on our perception of success than they ought to.

That too few kids showed up or that the music didn't cue at the right time or that we ran out of snacks or that the kids laughed during a part of the message that wasn't intended to be funny or that we dismissed 10 minutes late really hardly matters more than a week after it happens. What does matter begins with the experience of the kid and ends at how truly God was represented through the event (or class or encounter or project).

What is the reason we minister? For the kids or for us? If it is "because we love kids" then our programs can become so child-centered that the kids' total satisfaction becomes our utmost pursuit: McMinistry. Yet an efficient program can drive us to the other extreme, where kids' needs are disregarded - and I've seen that happen, too. Then "The Program" becomes an end in itself - and it might well be spiritual, but it doesn't constitute good ministry to kids. Good ministry happens when God is glorified and kids experience this in a meaningful way. By "meaningful" I mean that the experience translates - kids are understanding what they're learning and it affects them beyond the classroom door.

That integration is usually beyond the scope of the "programmed" aspects of church. Unlike adults, who can be "fed" simply by listening to a half-hour sermon, kids learn differently. I've found that in teaching kids, it's very hard - almost useless - to "make a point" expecting kids to absorb your own understanding. Kids need to figure out how new information fits with what they already know and have experienced. They need dialogue. They need to ask and answer questions. That's why we teach very interactively in our class. But what we do from the front isn't enough.

This process of kids restating and re-formulating and coming up with their own examples and thinking about - all of this takes time. It also takes personal attention. It's one of the reasons we started sending the HomePage last year at this time, not only to keep parents up to speed about what we're learning, but to keep the kids thinking. But in our rooms, we're far from giving personal attention some weeks - with 8, 9, 10 or more kids assigned to one leader, it's all that leader can do to give each kid even one minute of undivided attention. That's a problem.

The other problem with programs is that they don't care. Despite the fact that every kid arrives having different home issues, parenting situations, life experiences, learning styles, interests and values, programs mash them all together so that they become "the kids". But they're not "the kids" - there's this one, and that one, and the next one, each distinct from the other and each who will forge their own journey of faith. Come and look at our "School Wall" sometime and ask, as I do, "Who's investing in that kid right there?" and "Does anyone know what's going on with her?" and "How is she doing?" and "Does this make any sense to him?"

Programs happen at a moment in time. But lives are lived out constantly. Whatever effect a talk or a night or a weekend or a sleepover may have had when it happened, the better question is, what effect is it having still? We don't make a difference with kids by what's already past. We make a difference by the ongoing work of Jesus in their lives.

And all of this begins with kids becoming known individually within our ministry. You can join us. We are always looking for caring souls who want to make an impact on preteens. There are five qualities we look for in a volunteer: are they caring, loving, playful, patient, and committed? If that's you, maybe you should be on our team. Our next no-obligation orientation night is Tuesday, January 29. Come and hear more about our vision: the Biggest Dreams, the Best Discipleship, and Most Care. With every soldier we add to the ranks, we move away from being just another program and toward being a church that cares, personally and deeply, for kids. I'll take that over slick programming any day.