Black and White
Left and Right
Right and Wrong
Us and Them
This or That
Dichotomous thinking. One of the most popular ways to teach children it seems. And probably the single most unhelpful thing that I have encountered in working with younger and older adults. Nothing shuts down learning and dialogue like being told that the idea being presented is simply wrong because they didn't learn it when they were little. Because if they were told when they were five that the Bible is exactly "this way" and they are supposed to stand firm and not be shaken then by golly they will, regardless of whether or not they retain a five-year old faith for the rest of their lives.
This is indeed a rant.
And I am angry.
I'm angry that we teach young children that there is one answer to most of life's problems or questions.
I'm angry that we teach children that "this way" is right but "that way" is wrong, meaning we are right and they are wrong.
I'm angry that we present the Bible to children in boxes (in a parochial sense).
I'm angry that we forget that children need to learn how to think, not just what to think.
Because that's how they grow.
Dichotomous thinking stunts their growth!
I meet so many people who struggle with engaging the Bible in new ways, with stretching themselves, with accepting new ideas, or even knowing how to challenge and critique new ideas (and I am one of them!). And when I meet these people I don't feel angry at them, I feel angry at their childhood Sunday school teachers, their devotional materials "Christian" songs, their Bible storybooks and all the other people that told them all the answers instead of challenging them to imagine all the possibilities and to discern wisely, remaining open to change when new information comes along.
Yes, children need safety and security, they need to know that it is not a good idea to put the grilled cheese sandwich in the VCR (yes I'm that old), they need to know that pulling out their brother's hair is wrong, they need to know that swallowing poison is going to hurt them. And they need to know some things with a degree of certainty. But what is life if everything is certain? How do we grow if everything that we learn is certain, and not open to change?
How do we experience God as mystery if the mystery has been solved?
What does it mean for the Spirit to move when we read scripture if there is only one way to interpret the Bible?
How small does God become if everything we know about God can be fully understood and explained when we are five years old?
How boring are those stories if I can only learn one lesson from them?
Sometimes people look at me like I'm nuts when I say stuff like this. They think I'm crazy to make so much of what and how we teach our children because after all, real learning comes later. But in my experience (and that of other learned people thankfully), that's simply not the case. We do learn later, but the way we learn, our worldview, our concepts of how to interpret information, and how we understand God are shaped very early on. And each time I'm in a group discussing atonement, each time I'm in a group discussing sexuality, each time I mark a paper discussing the Bible, people will bring up what they learned when they were little. Each and every time. And that learning has a lot of power. Even when faced with direct evidence to the contrary (informational or experiential), it is very hard to change those childhood perspectives.
So if it's hard to change the perspectives we learn when we are children, then what happens when the perspective we learn is dichotomous or parochial thought?
What happens when a child's worldview involves only certainty and no mystery?
What happens when we teach a child that the Bible is absolutely true (in an historically accurate factual way) and then they are confronted with the impossibility of that "fact"?
What happens when we teach children that Jesus loves "good" children (Jesus loves me when I'm good, when I do the things I should), and then they do something "bad"?
What happens when a child's only concept of God is of a bearded white haired man and then they are raped by a man just like that?
Conversely,
What happens when we teach children to listen in the Spirit as we discern together?
What happens when we wonder together and are honest when we really don't know the answer, or that perhaps there is not one?
What happens when we invite children into the biblical story and help them to see themselves as part of that story?
What happens when we teach children that they are loved unconditionally and are valued for who they are as part of God's diverse family?
What happens when we present children with many images for God so they are able to encounter God in many faces and places?
And now, because my rant has become very long as usual I will close with a quote from Picasso (I rarely quote Picasso!):
"There is only one way to see things,
until someone shows us how to look at them
with different eyes"
Let us keep that in mind as we live and learn together with our children.
Tuesday, 30 October 2012
Wednesday, 10 October 2012
Sacrifices
I have particular, and sometimes peculiar, convictions. Some of these convictions have developed throughout my life, others I have come to in adulthood. Some are based on what I believe it means to live as an Anabaptist Christian, others have developed out of my sense of who God is calling me, in particular, to be in the world. Some of my convictions are easily held because they are rarely challenged, others are challenged to various degrees through circumstance or through direct confrontation from others (and those challenges can be a very good thing!). All of them require some degree of sacrifice as do all choices. There are pros and cons, degrees of faithfulness and unfaithfulness, health and brokenness in all decisions that we make.
So I find it amusing that when individuals actually challenge me about some of my convictions they immediately try to force me to consider what I am giving up or ask "what if..." questions (as if I had not already done so) , without acknowledging that their choices have also required sacrifices. This is most often the case when my choice is seen as counter cultural.
An aside: I'd like to point out that I have almost never been challenged on how well I'm actually living out my convictions or whether or not my conviction is bearing fruit, and people certainly could challenge me on those things. I am not perfect. It's easy for me not to go to war but mighty hard to be loving to people that drive me nuts. The challenges I do receive are usually on the choice itself.
My conviction that being a follower of Jesus means that we are to work for peace and justice in active, yet non-violent ways is rarely challenged directly since I am not being forced to make the decision of whether or not to enlist, as was the case for many of my ancestors. Yet periodically I do get the inevitable "what if someone broke into your home and tried to harm your family?" question. There are many ways to engage that question, and I will not go into them here. However, what always confuses me when thinking about violence is the absence of consideration for what might happen to me and to the other if I did engage in violence. We, as a culture, usually assume that we would be sacrificing our own safety, our possessions, our well-being, if we did not respond with violence. Yet I rarely hear us considering what we are sacrificing when we do engage in violence, the damage that happens to self and other. It is painfully obvious when hearing stories of soldiers with PTSD, that inflicting violence and witnessing violence does not simply end the pain and suffering, it creates a whole new kind of brokenness that then has to be dealt with. There are sacrifices on both sides.
My conviction to attempt to live simply and to consider carefully the ways in which I use technology are challenged somewhat more frequently, but usually in a more gently mocking tone. I don't have a cell phone and I have a relatively small TV (though I do have one!), and I spend far too much time on the internet for someone who has strong convictions about such things. I think, however, the small TV has been the most commented on and bewilders most sports fanatics. I apparently, don't know what I'm missing! Well...I think I know some of what I'm missing. I'm missing a TV as the ultimate focal point in my apartment (we already think ours is too central, but can't relocate it due to wiring). I'm missing damaged eye sight from sitting way too close to an incredibly large screen. I'm missing seeing every pore on every TV personality's face. I'm missing increased noise. I'm missing copious amounts of time wasted in front of a TV which would be necessary in order to justify a purchase of that size (and I already watch too much TV). There's a ton that I'm missing; that I'm sacrificing, but are they not giving up some things as well?
But of all of my convictions, the one that is challenged the most often and the most passively aggressively, is my decision to remain single and not have children. I say passive aggressively because this is rarely an honest face-to-face conversation in which I am invited to tell my story, or to share why I feel called to singleness at this point in my life or how I understand the impact that my decision has on others. Most often I hear little jokes, small back-handed comments (often well-intentioned, but back-handed nonetheless), or stories about how so and so let herself "sit on the shelf" or "go to seed" or whatever.
I always find these conversations both amusing and frustrating. It's not like I'm 18 and I suddenly decided to enter a convent. I'm almost 36 years old. In many ways my singleness has simply been part of my life circumstance. I am not against the institution of marriage, I am not against people having children, though I certainly wish more people would think carefully about their decisions to get married and have children, it might reduce the divorce rate and child abuse (not all people are suited to marriage and child rearing). I simply choose to recognize the gifts that my singleness brings instead of pining away for what I do not have, and going "hunting" regularly.
Another quick aside: Most people who make comments to me also tend not to recognize that I am not "single" in the way that many people are single. For more on this see an earlier post.
At the heart of all of the comments that I receive, from both men and women, young and old is that I don't know what I'm giving up. Why would I want to sacrifice the joy of marriage and children (which, quite frankly, does not appear to be the norm) for a life of loneliness? Here is where the amusing part comes in. This is, it seems to me, the fundamental misunderstanding of both marriage and singleness that comes through in almost all the comments that I hear; the assumption that marriage and children = happiness, and singleness = loneliness. That single people simply sacrifice all the joys in life while married people sacrifice nothing! Hah! Perhaps this is the problem with marriages, the assumption that there is no sacrifice, only gain. Perhaps marriages would last longer if couples received repeated concerned guidance from all far and wide that they should carefully consider what they are giving up in order to live in relationship, to form a household, to make a covenant (if that is part of their plan). Or if a couple wanting to have a baby had to sit and make lists of all the things that they would have to sacrifice for the rest of their lives before they attempt to procreate, perhaps parenting would grow in its intentionality. I say this with 1/2 sarcasm, and 1/2 seriousness.
Convictions, all convictions require sacrifice. Whether we are following traditional or mainstream customs, making counter cultural choices or anything in between, there are things that we have to let go of. And just as it's hard for others to sometimes see the beauty and gifts that come with some of my convictions, it is hard for me to see the same in theirs. It seems to be the default to assume that we have the corner on what is right and good, that in order for our decisions or convictions to be "right" they must be universal. However, I wonder what growth might happen for all of us, myself included, if instead of making back-handed critiques to one another's convictions we chose to sit down together and honestly share and receive one another's stories, to hear about the gifts that their convictions might bring, instead of only hearing our own assumptions.
So I find it amusing that when individuals actually challenge me about some of my convictions they immediately try to force me to consider what I am giving up or ask "what if..." questions (as if I had not already done so) , without acknowledging that their choices have also required sacrifices. This is most often the case when my choice is seen as counter cultural.
An aside: I'd like to point out that I have almost never been challenged on how well I'm actually living out my convictions or whether or not my conviction is bearing fruit, and people certainly could challenge me on those things. I am not perfect. It's easy for me not to go to war but mighty hard to be loving to people that drive me nuts. The challenges I do receive are usually on the choice itself.
My conviction that being a follower of Jesus means that we are to work for peace and justice in active, yet non-violent ways is rarely challenged directly since I am not being forced to make the decision of whether or not to enlist, as was the case for many of my ancestors. Yet periodically I do get the inevitable "what if someone broke into your home and tried to harm your family?" question. There are many ways to engage that question, and I will not go into them here. However, what always confuses me when thinking about violence is the absence of consideration for what might happen to me and to the other if I did engage in violence. We, as a culture, usually assume that we would be sacrificing our own safety, our possessions, our well-being, if we did not respond with violence. Yet I rarely hear us considering what we are sacrificing when we do engage in violence, the damage that happens to self and other. It is painfully obvious when hearing stories of soldiers with PTSD, that inflicting violence and witnessing violence does not simply end the pain and suffering, it creates a whole new kind of brokenness that then has to be dealt with. There are sacrifices on both sides.
My conviction to attempt to live simply and to consider carefully the ways in which I use technology are challenged somewhat more frequently, but usually in a more gently mocking tone. I don't have a cell phone and I have a relatively small TV (though I do have one!), and I spend far too much time on the internet for someone who has strong convictions about such things. I think, however, the small TV has been the most commented on and bewilders most sports fanatics. I apparently, don't know what I'm missing! Well...I think I know some of what I'm missing. I'm missing a TV as the ultimate focal point in my apartment (we already think ours is too central, but can't relocate it due to wiring). I'm missing damaged eye sight from sitting way too close to an incredibly large screen. I'm missing seeing every pore on every TV personality's face. I'm missing increased noise. I'm missing copious amounts of time wasted in front of a TV which would be necessary in order to justify a purchase of that size (and I already watch too much TV). There's a ton that I'm missing; that I'm sacrificing, but are they not giving up some things as well?
But of all of my convictions, the one that is challenged the most often and the most passively aggressively, is my decision to remain single and not have children. I say passive aggressively because this is rarely an honest face-to-face conversation in which I am invited to tell my story, or to share why I feel called to singleness at this point in my life or how I understand the impact that my decision has on others. Most often I hear little jokes, small back-handed comments (often well-intentioned, but back-handed nonetheless), or stories about how so and so let herself "sit on the shelf" or "go to seed" or whatever.
I always find these conversations both amusing and frustrating. It's not like I'm 18 and I suddenly decided to enter a convent. I'm almost 36 years old. In many ways my singleness has simply been part of my life circumstance. I am not against the institution of marriage, I am not against people having children, though I certainly wish more people would think carefully about their decisions to get married and have children, it might reduce the divorce rate and child abuse (not all people are suited to marriage and child rearing). I simply choose to recognize the gifts that my singleness brings instead of pining away for what I do not have, and going "hunting" regularly.
Another quick aside: Most people who make comments to me also tend not to recognize that I am not "single" in the way that many people are single. For more on this see an earlier post.
At the heart of all of the comments that I receive, from both men and women, young and old is that I don't know what I'm giving up. Why would I want to sacrifice the joy of marriage and children (which, quite frankly, does not appear to be the norm) for a life of loneliness? Here is where the amusing part comes in. This is, it seems to me, the fundamental misunderstanding of both marriage and singleness that comes through in almost all the comments that I hear; the assumption that marriage and children = happiness, and singleness = loneliness. That single people simply sacrifice all the joys in life while married people sacrifice nothing! Hah! Perhaps this is the problem with marriages, the assumption that there is no sacrifice, only gain. Perhaps marriages would last longer if couples received repeated concerned guidance from all far and wide that they should carefully consider what they are giving up in order to live in relationship, to form a household, to make a covenant (if that is part of their plan). Or if a couple wanting to have a baby had to sit and make lists of all the things that they would have to sacrifice for the rest of their lives before they attempt to procreate, perhaps parenting would grow in its intentionality. I say this with 1/2 sarcasm, and 1/2 seriousness.
Convictions, all convictions require sacrifice. Whether we are following traditional or mainstream customs, making counter cultural choices or anything in between, there are things that we have to let go of. And just as it's hard for others to sometimes see the beauty and gifts that come with some of my convictions, it is hard for me to see the same in theirs. It seems to be the default to assume that we have the corner on what is right and good, that in order for our decisions or convictions to be "right" they must be universal. However, I wonder what growth might happen for all of us, myself included, if instead of making back-handed critiques to one another's convictions we chose to sit down together and honestly share and receive one another's stories, to hear about the gifts that their convictions might bring, instead of only hearing our own assumptions.
Thursday, 27 September 2012
The Benefits of Counseling
One of the greatest gifts in my life has been good counselors. I would certainly not be the person I am today if I had not sought out help in navigating my relationship with myself and with others.
And I am not "mentally ill".
I have not been diagnosed with any mental disorder.
I have simply experienced life.
Life has ups and downs. For some people those ups and downs include mild to severe mental disorders, which may or may not require medication. But for many people life is simply life. There are times when anxiety seems to be getting the better of us, or the world feels heavy, or we aren't sure how to grieve, or we have trouble trusting our own intuition, or we have trouble asking for help, or we have a pessimistic worldview that has been passed on from generation to generation, or we just aren't sure which end is up or how to make decisions, or we aren't sure how to be of most help to others we are in relationship with.
Life can be difficult. It can be frustrating. It can be hard to see our way through whatever lies before us, and so we find ourselves trying to go around...and around...and around. We become addicted to coffee, alcohol, tv, drugs, shopping, technology, home renovations and the list goes on. Human beings will find coping mechanisms of all kinds when we can't bring ourselves to deal with a situation. Dealing with our crap is hard work. It requires vulnerability. And when we are ready to deal with it, it requires a companion.
I could not have faced my issues on my own. I needed help. I did not need someone else to tell me what to do. I needed someone to help me to learn to listen to what was actually going on within and around me. I needed someone to ask me good questions and invite me to consider different ways of thinking and being in the world.
My experience is that "therapy" still has a really negative interpretation for a lot of people. Therapy is for finicky movie stars who are completely self-absorbed. Therapy is for addicts, drug addicts, not coffee addicts. Therapy is for people who are messed up. Therapy is for sick people. Therapy is for those people.
Well, I disagree. Therapy is for people who choose to love themselves enough to work on their own healing. When I become more healthy, those around me are also strengthened. When I refuse to work on my own healing, when I choose to avoid my problems and distract myself with shopping (or whatever), the problems don't go away. They get worse and they spill over onto other people and they get passed on generation to generation.
I get that going to a counselor is expensive. But I decided it was far better stewardship than spending money on drugs, alcohol or the myriad other diversions that are advertised to me daily. At least therapy doesn't add to the landfill and it actually improves my quality of life long term.
I have been incredibly blessed with two amazing counselors to walk alongside me over the past number of years. However, I should say that not all counselors are good counselors. I know this first hand. I went to one counselor, who within about 30 min. of listening to me share about my struggles with anxiety in public speaking, suggested medication. In some instances medication can be of benefit, but not for mild anxiety! We as a culture tend to over-medicate I believe, making it very difficult to see when people actually do need medication, and when other life changes would be of more benefit.
In my work with children I am often frustrated to see very young people who are not receiving the skills they need to deal with the ups and downs of life. They are being taught to deal with their anger, frustration, and anxiety through bribes and distractions and yes...shopping. If I am sad, I should have ice cream. If I am scared, I should ignore my fear and push through it and I'll get a sucker. If I am anxious about something I should go shopping. I shouldn't listen to my fear, and ask why I'm afraid. Because surely dealing with the issue head on will be far more traumatic than nursing the fear for 40 years until I can't ignore it anymore and the medication is no longer effectively numbing me out (yes I am being sarcastic here).
I know that counseling is not for everyone. I know that for some people Spiritual Direction is all that they need, and for others there might be other types of healing that better suit their situation. But, regardless of what mode of healing is right for you, I think it's time that North Americans in general stop trying to numb out and avoid our problems because that is yet another way that we don't make a better world for our children.
And I am not "mentally ill".
I have not been diagnosed with any mental disorder.
I have simply experienced life.
Life has ups and downs. For some people those ups and downs include mild to severe mental disorders, which may or may not require medication. But for many people life is simply life. There are times when anxiety seems to be getting the better of us, or the world feels heavy, or we aren't sure how to grieve, or we have trouble trusting our own intuition, or we have trouble asking for help, or we have a pessimistic worldview that has been passed on from generation to generation, or we just aren't sure which end is up or how to make decisions, or we aren't sure how to be of most help to others we are in relationship with.
Life can be difficult. It can be frustrating. It can be hard to see our way through whatever lies before us, and so we find ourselves trying to go around...and around...and around. We become addicted to coffee, alcohol, tv, drugs, shopping, technology, home renovations and the list goes on. Human beings will find coping mechanisms of all kinds when we can't bring ourselves to deal with a situation. Dealing with our crap is hard work. It requires vulnerability. And when we are ready to deal with it, it requires a companion.
I could not have faced my issues on my own. I needed help. I did not need someone else to tell me what to do. I needed someone to help me to learn to listen to what was actually going on within and around me. I needed someone to ask me good questions and invite me to consider different ways of thinking and being in the world.
My experience is that "therapy" still has a really negative interpretation for a lot of people. Therapy is for finicky movie stars who are completely self-absorbed. Therapy is for addicts, drug addicts, not coffee addicts. Therapy is for people who are messed up. Therapy is for sick people. Therapy is for those people.
Well, I disagree. Therapy is for people who choose to love themselves enough to work on their own healing. When I become more healthy, those around me are also strengthened. When I refuse to work on my own healing, when I choose to avoid my problems and distract myself with shopping (or whatever), the problems don't go away. They get worse and they spill over onto other people and they get passed on generation to generation.
I get that going to a counselor is expensive. But I decided it was far better stewardship than spending money on drugs, alcohol or the myriad other diversions that are advertised to me daily. At least therapy doesn't add to the landfill and it actually improves my quality of life long term.
I have been incredibly blessed with two amazing counselors to walk alongside me over the past number of years. However, I should say that not all counselors are good counselors. I know this first hand. I went to one counselor, who within about 30 min. of listening to me share about my struggles with anxiety in public speaking, suggested medication. In some instances medication can be of benefit, but not for mild anxiety! We as a culture tend to over-medicate I believe, making it very difficult to see when people actually do need medication, and when other life changes would be of more benefit.
In my work with children I am often frustrated to see very young people who are not receiving the skills they need to deal with the ups and downs of life. They are being taught to deal with their anger, frustration, and anxiety through bribes and distractions and yes...shopping. If I am sad, I should have ice cream. If I am scared, I should ignore my fear and push through it and I'll get a sucker. If I am anxious about something I should go shopping. I shouldn't listen to my fear, and ask why I'm afraid. Because surely dealing with the issue head on will be far more traumatic than nursing the fear for 40 years until I can't ignore it anymore and the medication is no longer effectively numbing me out (yes I am being sarcastic here).
I know that counseling is not for everyone. I know that for some people Spiritual Direction is all that they need, and for others there might be other types of healing that better suit their situation. But, regardless of what mode of healing is right for you, I think it's time that North Americans in general stop trying to numb out and avoid our problems because that is yet another way that we don't make a better world for our children.
Friday, 21 September 2012
Searching for Laughter
I have a confession to make.
I take Life Seriously.
Very. Very. Seriously.
And I almost always have I think, though perhaps never more so than in the past few years. I'm a serious person by nature (6 on the Enneagram so always working to maintain control and navigate fear), but also by nurture and circumstance.
As a child and an adolescent I was often teased for being shy, or more often for being grumpy. I was both, and yet neither. I was, and am, simply introverted. I love to talk (a lot!), but in new situations and large groups I tend to be somewhat withdrawn. Because I'm trying to figure out my new environment, I'm usually quiet, because I'm quiet, I'm often seen as aloof, or grumpy. Being told I'm grumpy, makes me...grumpy and thus I become even quieter. People who know me really well and spend time with me one-on-one know that I am often very loud and very ungrumpy. As a child I learned that being seen as serious or studious could become a laudable substitute for introversion. Scholars can get away with appearing grumpy at times. I also learned that being studious brought approval and awards, things I knew I would not be getting for my athleticism or striking good looks!
When I was 17 I graduated from high school and moved to Winnipeg to attend Scientific Marvel School of Hairstyling and Esthetics (quite a mouthful!). And I learned to laugh more there, but to become even more serious in other areas of my life in order to defend my decision to use my straight-A transcript to construct pin-curls, an endeavour I also learned to take very seriously!. More than once I was told that I was wasting my mind.
For most of my childhood and adult life (until just recently) I was involved in Figure Skating. First as a skater (though not a good one) and then as a judge. Here again, I learned to laugh, but also to become more serious and FAR more critical. I often felt I had to defend my decision to spend so many hours at the rink simply because I loved the sport. Many of my peers could not see the point since it was clear I wasn't going to achieve greatness. Judging, as the term implies, brought with it a whole new realm of critical thinking. And seriousness became crucial as I tried desperately to find all the errors in skaters' programs and to judge with as much integrity and perfection on my part as I was expecting on theirs. Being several years younger than the other judges also led me to greater seriousness in order to prove to myself that I belonged in their company.
Ministry with children, you would imagine, would be filled with laughter and humour. But in many ways I have often taken that too seriously as well. My undergrad and graduate studies instilled in me an incredibly critical eye so that I could guide others more effectively, taking care to help them avoid the pitfalls of bad theology, sloppy practice, and slippery ethics (so much more could be said here!). All good things, but for someone who already took things far too seriously a little levity and emphasis on the fact that all these things were not just up to me, would have been of great benefit. I also allowed my academic studies to reinforce my need to be studious in order to deal with my introversion, to receive approval and awards, and to defend my decision to abandon my career in hairstyling, to leave behind judging figure skating in favour of academics and ministry with no certainty of employment or financial security.
My ministry with children has also been grounded in my own experiences of anxiety as a child, and the experiences of anxiety and depression of my younger sister. In many ways my calling to children is a calling to my sister and to all the young children in our middle-class congregations who are suffering in ways that are not always easily seen. This is a calling that I take very seriously.
So I think I have, perhaps, come by my seriousness quiet honestly. But regardless of how I came by it, all this seriousness has made my life feel pretty heavy at times. I'm not very good at laughing and having fun. I have a hard time shutting down my hypercritical mind, or at least dialing it back a few notches. Even when I'm enjoying sewing, I can't help but consider the environmental impact that my project might have, or whether or not I am practicing good stewardship. I'm glad that I can look at a cell phone and ask good questions about what impact it, and other forms of technology, might have on my life and the lives of those around me (thanks Andy Brubacher Kaethler and Arthur Boers). I'm glad that I can look at story Bibles, media, and societal practices and identify where there are unjust gender and racial stereotypes being reinforced (thanks Gayle Gerber-Koontz), as well as for the many other areas in which I have learned to critically engage my world. Yet I find myself feeling a lack of joy. I find myself far from the laughter and humour that I often encounter in God when I pray.
I have a sense that laughter is my work. That I have come to a point in my life where I might need to step back and trust that things will not fall apart if I stop analyzing them, and indeed they might come together in new and fuller ways if they are filled with more silliness. I have often seen myself as a rather silly person, but as my roommate Alicia has said, I usually only show that side of myself at home. So if you come across me in the next few months and find I am behaving rather oddly, then I invite you to join me. If you come across me being overly serious, I invite you to remind me that God created laughter and it is very good.
Tuesday, 18 September 2012
Thoughts on Storybook Bibles
Storybook Bibles can be a good way to introduce children to
the biblical story using age appropriate language and colourful illustrations,
yet not all storybook Bibles are made equal. When I’m looking for a good Storybook Bible I have several
criteria handy for evaluating what each one has to offer as well as what might
be lacking.
Some things I look for are:
- What stories are included and which are left out. Does the book include stories or poetry drawn from the Psalms, the prophets (more than Jonah), and from the letters to the early church? These are parts of scripture that are often left out.
- How are characters portrayed in illustrations? Is everyone Caucasian? Are only “enemies” or slaves portrayed as persons of colour? Some Storybook Bibles reinforce racist stereotypes of particular ethnic groups as lesser than, or simply violent. I look for illustrations that help children to identify with characters, see the beautiful diversity in God’s creation, recognize the cultural context of the biblical story, and to understand people as fully human and complex.
- How is God portrayed? Are there both masculine and feminine images of God as we see in the Bible? Do we receive a broad understanding of God demonstrating gentleness, wisdom, love, justice, compassion, protection, mercy, power, intimacy, holiness?
- How are women and children represented? The world of the biblical story was patriarchal, but we know that women and children were certainly present and a part of the story. Has there been an attempt made to bring forth the experiences of women and children in the biblical story both through stories and illustrations?
- Is inclusive language used when referring to people?
- How is violence portrayed? Are violent acts something that people are to undertake, is violence glorified as the “right” way to solve problems, or are we to strive to live in peace? While the words in a storybook Bible may not glorify violence, the illustrations often do.
- What is the understanding given of humanity in Genesis? Are women and men equals, partners in the task of caring for creation? Is there still goodness in us and are we still loved even after Adam and Eve leave the garden, or have we become completely “bad”? Most often the understanding of humanity in Genesis provides the theological understanding for human relationships, and for the human/God relationship in the rest of the story, so I find Genesis a good place to start.
- What is the understanding of sin and reconciliation that comes through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus? Is that understanding in alignment with what I believe the Bible tells us, and are these stories told using age appropriate images and language? Many storybook Bibles implicitly or explicitly attempt to create feelings of guilt in children in order to coerce conversion. I pay careful attention to how themes of salvation are dealt with.
- Are gender stereotypes in our own culture being reinforced? Will a young girl who adores adventure and regularly gets her knees scraped up while riding her bike feel uncomfortable with God’s story because it’s packaged in vibrant pink with princess crowns on it? Will a thoughtful boy who loves to read and is inclined toward music feel uncomfortable because his “Bible” teaches him that he needs to be a muscular superhero? These are especially good questions to ask when giving Bibles out in church, whether they are storybook Bibles or a complete translation.
While
it is almost impossible for a given storybook Bible to fulfill all of these
criteria I have found several
books that I believe fit many of the criteria and have a variety of gifts
to offer families. Having several different storybook Bibles or visual
interpretations of scripture for children is also of great importance in
helping them to embrace the vibrancy of God’s Story.
Thursday, 13 September 2012
Together We Pray
So it feels like a new chapter of ministry is beginning. This week I published my website entitled Together We Pray in the hopes of letting churches and individuals know what I might have to offer them.I have had quite a number of opportunities to minister in a variety of capacities in a variety of churches over the past few months and honestly, I really enjoy this type of work. Being able to resource people, to help them find what they need, or give them the tools that they need to live out their callings well is a passion of mine. I can do this as a pastor within a church, but I'm also recognizing that sometimes churches and pastors benefit from being able to call in someone else to do work that might take them a lot of time to pull together; time that is often better spent in other ways. I also enjoy being able to offer pastors an easily accessible option for "pulpit fill". It's not always easy to find someone to cover for you, especially on long weekends, or spring break and the like. But since I don't have children and I'm not employed full time, I'm often free when others are not.
It was a lot of fun putting the site together and trying to articulate what I feel I can offer the church and writing it all out was a good way of reminding myself of the ministry that I've done in the past as well. I'm very much looking forward to whatever ministry comes my way this fall, as well as doing some projects around the house, some sewing, and grading papers for a class at CMU again. There should be plenty to keep me busy!
It was a lot of fun putting the site together and trying to articulate what I feel I can offer the church and writing it all out was a good way of reminding myself of the ministry that I've done in the past as well. I'm very much looking forward to whatever ministry comes my way this fall, as well as doing some projects around the house, some sewing, and grading papers for a class at CMU again. There should be plenty to keep me busy!
Wednesday, 5 September 2012
Feeling Blessed
(Pic courtesy of Jen Shenk Photography)
One day during my first week I walked down the hall, or perhaps meandered, wondering what on earth to do with myself before classes really got going and I saw one of my fellow dorm-mates, one Alicia Buhler, sitting in her room and I decided to be REALLY brave and ask if she wanted to go for a walk. And so we did.
And here we are, ten years later, still walking. We've traveled a lot since then. We have walked together through 4 years of undergrad, through the excitement of graduation, through the devastation of my sister's death, through the passing of one of each of our grandmothers, through two weddings in her family, through the birth of a niece in my family and a nephew in hers, through candidating and job hunting and more unemployment than either of us would have wanted, through 2 years of pastoring, through moving, and moving, and moving all the way to Indiana, through Seminary, through discernment of our callings, through financial stresses, through figuring out who will do the dishes and clean the toilet, through 4 different congregations, through saying goodbye to friends and hello to new ones, through all kinds of frustration and joys and sorrows.
It has been a full ten years of almost constant transitions and I feel incredibly blessed that through all of those changes I have had such an amazing friend to rely on. It is such a comfort and joy to know that when the world is spinning out of control, I can come home and she is there. And it is equally meaningful to know that I can be there to support her as well.
Some of the things that I have come to appreciate most about our relationship are:
- the mutuality
- the ways in which our gifts seem to complement one another (I love to cook, she loves to clean!)
- our mutual love of having a settled home, each time we move it takes less than two days to fully unpack and settle in.
- our mutual love of organization and cleanliness
- the ways in which we can dream together
- the understanding we have for one another's calling in ministry
- the ways that we support each other in growing more and more into the women we are meant to be
- the moments of insane silliness
- our shared appreciation for responsible stewardship and healthy holistic living
- our commitment to Sabbath
- our commitment to working through our own processes
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