The Critical Years

I have recently been thinking about a certain issue which I would like to bring up on this blog and see what the rest of you think. I know that this hasn’t been approved by the 4712 deity (aka Toffelguy) but I’m sure he won’t mind if I go over his helmet on this one. It is really an issue regarding parenting. It’ll be a couple of examples and then my two cents.

I was recently talking with a Dad (whom I will call Joe) of two girls (aged 21 and 17) whom we shall name Ethel (21) and Gertrude (17). Joe would talk very differently depending on which daughter he was talking about. Gertrude just so happened to have just come home from a missions trip to El Salvador where she helped in the construction of a school building. Her boyfriend, whom Joe foresees her marrying, is about to leave for 3 months to go to Brazil to work in an orphanage. Joe is obviously very proud and considers this daughter to be up to his standards for a good Christian girl. Ethel, whom I attended Alpha with and who I found to be a very delightful young woman, has some issues with drug abuse and is currently living in Regina. Now this is somewhat of an extreme example. Joe was very blatantly comparing his two daughters in a way that I found uncomfortable. “Gertrude is always thinking, always coming to me for advice. I foresee her and her boyfriend getting married and going into the mission field. Ethel, well, she just gets our hopes up sometimes just to dash them, I think just for fun.” Those two sentences came right after each other.

Although I realize that no parent wants to see their son or daughter doing drugs, I felt that his obvious comparison of his two daughters was very painful. He gives off a very strong impression that he is proud of his missions minded daughter and ashamed of his daughter who is struggling (even if he isn’t ashamed, this is the aura that was portrayed).

As well, I have noticed a somewhat general trend amongst Fundamentalist Evangelical parents (mine excluded). If asked about their kids, they inevitably bring up the ones that are in full time ministry with pride and those who are involved in some sort of non-ministerial career are presented as somewhat sub-par (again I reiterate that my parents are wonderful people who have always supported my brother and I in all of our endeavours, no matter how crazy). There seems to be some sort of sub-cultural trend amongst evangelicals which places those in full-time ministry on a pedestal above those who work as meagre secular employees.

These two thoughts led me to another train of thought (which is not entirely profound, but something to think about) regarding the nature of teenagers. If one takes a quick glance at a typical youth group (and I am thinking back to mine as well) it is somewhat evident that teenagers have a great faith in God, one that often surpasses more mature people in the church. One reason I think that this is the case is in regard to the tendencies of most teenagers. Teens have a tremendous need to belong to a group, to feel accepted by a group of peers. Once they do feel they belong within their group, that group in and of itself becomes almost a single entity that moves along as a single mass. For example, within a youth group, the decision to become baptized is hardly an individual decision. Perhaps one person decides to get baptized, but sure as shootin’ there’s going to be a whole flock of friends within the group who will follow. This has been exemplified recently at our local Alliance church with the bombardment of teenage baptisms that have taken place. Teenagers find their identity as a group, whatever group that happens to be. That being said, if a certain teenager finds their acceptance within a different kind of group that is not a church youth group (ie. the druggie crowd) , then they will follow the leading of that group. It is for this reason that many parents are so concerned that their kids go to youth group and fall in with the right crowd as many believe that this will set the trend for the rest of their lives.

Although I do feel it is important to have good friends as a teenager in order to stay out of trouble, I would argue that the trends set as a teenager are not the ones which will last for the rest of their lives. When you are a teenager, your thinking generally revolves around your friends and the group. However, after graduating from High School, I feel it is at this point that people realize just how silly the cliques and groups were that existed in High School. It is then that people begin to mature intellectually (although everybody matures at a different rate). It seems that most people start to think for themselves at this point and I believe that these are the critical years rather than the teenage years.

Joe seems to think that Ethel is beyond hope, that the trends she set in high school are the ones that she will maintain for her whole life. I humbly suggested to him that she is not beyond hope and that people mature at different rates. I offered examples of certain people whom I know that were in the druggie crowd in high school that after a number of years after graduation, matured, turned their lives around, and began to live ‘just and upright’ lives. This seemed to be of some comfort to him as he hadn’t actually thought of that possibility.

So, two points here. The first is pointed towards parents (myself included) to be proud of your kids and support them no matter what they are doing vocationally. Being a missionary is not better than being an oil worker. The second is regarding raising our kids as teenagers. Does having your teenager in youth group guarantee that they will grow up being righteous and Godly people? Does having your kid fall into the wrong crowd in High school guarantee that they will be drug addicts for the rest of their lives? The answer to both of those questions is no. I for one, would not want my child to live a life of faith in High School simply because the rest of the youth group was doing so (I know that is a gross generalization). I personally think that the ‘critical years’ are not the teenage years, but the years where people begin to develop their personality as an individual apart from the influence of the group, because that is who they are eventually going to be.

I made many gross generalizations throughout this rant and I realize that people can cite specific examples that point to the opposite direction. I am merely addressing an issue that is prevalent amongst fundamentalist evangelicals.

Love and Horror...

We've been discussing pain and appropriate Christian responses to it below.  Please go there and add your two cents if you have two cents to spare.  I just wanted to relate an experience that I had today.

On her blog this morning April DeConick referred to a trial down in Texas surrounding the beating death of a little girl named Grace (for some reason Dr. DeConick has removed that particular post, but please follow the link to her excellent blog anyway).  I won't relate the details simply because they are too horrible to type out.  She was killed by her own parents in the most vicious act of child abuse I've ever heard of, that's all I'll say.  When I read about the crime I was horror-struck, and I was unspeakably angry.  I wanted to write horrible things about those parents in the comments section of Dr. DeConick's post, and on my blog, and on this blog, and on every other public forum that I could find.  Then I wanted to speak to every person that I know and say more horrible things.  Then I looked at my little boy who was, as usual, running around between our living room and his bedroom being loud and silly.  Instead of saying horrible things about horror I did these things instead:

I made my son spaghetti with meat sauce (aka loodles!!! [noodles] in his parlance).  While the loodles cooked I watched little Liam take my steel mixing bowls off of their rack, set them some four feet away on the kitchen floor, then pick them up one by one and return them to the rack only to then move them from the rack to the floor again.  He did that for around ten minutes.  He was very content.  Then he ate his loodles while I cleaned up the kitchen.  As always he made a horrible mess and fed the dog almost as much as himself.  Then we played in the living room.  I was daddy-monster and chased him, then he was Liam-monster and he chased me and knocked me down and climbed on me screaming and giggling.  Then we snuggled and watched the Mole Sisters on Treehouse.  Then we changed his diaper and we snuggled a little more and he laid down for a nice, quiet nap.

I did those things for my son because I love him.  I also did those things for my son because they are the things that were not done for that poor little girl named Grace.  I can't help that little girl.  I want very badly to help her, but I can't.  But I can love my little boy.  I can care for him and be responsible for him and be his father.

I can't quite explain why, but that responsibility seems even more important to me in light of poor Grace's death.  I suppose the more horror I see pushed out into the world, the more I want to let out love to push back.  That, in my mind, seems like the Christlike thing to do.

Pain and Suffering

First, I am no pastor. Although it is my job, the pastoring part is not what I’m really good at. So I’ll give you my thoughts in 2 regards below, but know that they are as an introverted, mostly socially awkward individual who is far more at home organizing an event or analyzing a problem than dealing with people.

1. Helping those who are in pain or suffering – I think my favourite passage in regards to this is from Romans 12:15 - Be happy with those who are happy, and weep with those who weep. I’m more apt to offer a few kind words of comfort in a tough time, than to talk too much. Unless the situation warrants, I’m likely to sit by and be a presence more than offer what I think are important words. Frankly, I think that more people offering comfort should just be quiet and keep their words to themselves. I think that a great deal of hurt has been done by people who impose their ego and importance on those who are hurting in a tough time (the hurting person is an easy target for the one who needs to help others). So how do we respond? I’m apt to say – be quiet. Job 38 says: “Who is this that obscures by plans with words without judgement?” Yet….I have a friend named Pete that is an incredible Pastor (in the real sense). He can tell you that you are the dumbest person alive, and you’ll want to be his best friend. So after my rant, I really think that our response has to be based on our gifting. Lastly, I don’t want this too sound corny, or a cop out – but I think it has to do with God’s honest prompting too. There are times we need to be a conduit for God to speak to others. I think that forces out of our comfort zone to speak words we might otherwise not speak, words that may not find their home in this person for a long time (or ever). In summary, I think we should speak exceptionally cautiously, and only at God’s leading.
2. Living pain and suffering – I think that pain and suffering has a place in our lives too (the lives of believers). For years now I’ve felt that a key reason that God allows pain and suffering in the lives of believers is so that they can model hope in the midst of despair to a world that has little hope in the midst of despair. How I handle failure, frustration, sin, pain and suffering has to point to Jesus and to something more than being caught up in whatever situation it is that I’m in. I’m learning this with our real estate stuff. We currently have 2 places to rent out, and if we don’t, we’ll end up paying the mortgages until they are rented out. The first time this happened I was totally stressed out. As I have thought about it, I really believe that we are on the path God has for us, and if we are merely following God, then our attitude needs to reflect that God is leading the journey and will do what he needs to in his time (aka peace). I don’t think this is mis-placed trust or faith, but an appropriate response God’s leading in our lives. I hope that I’m being an accurate reflection of how to live in these circumstances. I think this applies to real pain and suffering too (of which I do not believe I have experience, or not much of anyway). Do we really believe that God can redeem all circumstances for good (a la Romans 8:28 – written in the context of suffering itself)?

I also want to push this one step farther as Colin asked “How can the Church do to speak into the lives of people in pain?” I think this goes to 1 Cor 12. A body acting well will have people who can play the main roles someone needs. Those who can listen, those who can motivate, those who can say difficult words, those who can organize food, or clean-up, or babysitting. I think this is where the Body is shown at its finest, coming together to embrace pain and suffering, as well as those experiencing pain and suffering in a way unknown or unfathomable to the world around us. I guess at times I am sceptical of those on TV who have something horrific happen to them (like a child murdered) and then profess they have no rage or malice toward the perpetrator. I am sceptical because I don’t know them – but what if they are sincere and that is really the case. I would love to be a part of a group that could bring such calm and focus and direction in such a terrible time. I think the group that has the potential for that is the Body of Christ.

Those are my thoughts. I hope I have done you all proud 

Scott

Ends and Means...

The end of the Christian faith is Christ-likeness; that is, to be virtuous as Christ is virtuous. If this is so, then this end justifies any means. Thoughts?

Theory and Practice...

We've been on a Christmas hiatus here at 4712 for the past little while, but it's about time we got back at it.  I'm in the midst of discussing some mild format changes and topic possibilities with our contributors, but I thought I'd offer this post as a welcome back to our readers and an interim conversation.

One subject that seems to surround most of the posts and responses thus far is the difficulty of intersecting theoretical and practical concerns.  This is not a problem unique to theological discussions, but one that I think has become very common throughout our culture.  In extreme cases there are two polar opposite versions of snobbery.

At the one extreme is the intellectual snob, the elitist, who believes that nobody without at least a Master's degree is allowed to speak on a given subject, and that "ordinary" people are less than him/her.  Less educated=less intelligent=less worthy.

At the other extreme is the "common" snob, the anti-elitist, who believes that it is better to be "plain-spoken" than educated.  This person believes that theoretical discussions are pie-in-the-sky nonsense, and that any discussion that does not have immediate, practical applications is not a discussion worth having.  More practical=more grounded and realistic=more worthy.

These are caricatures.  I've only seldom met a person who remotely resembled either of these sketches.  What I am demonstrating is just the extremes on a spectrum.  There are lots of people who are elitist-ish, and lots of people who are anti-elitist-ish out there and I'm sure we've all met them (or are them).  The problem that is immediately apparent when caricatures like this are sketched is that these extremes are unhelpful in this discussion.  That's not always the case, but it is the case here.  Just theory is ethereal nonsense.  Just practice is ignorant drivel.

Theory and practice must coexist, therefore, but how?  Is theory given dominence?  Does all practice flow from theory?  Or is practice given priority?  Does all theory serve to illuminate and clarify practice?  Perhaps an example will be helpful.  Let's try the world of music.

There is an awfully large body of theoretical knowledge out there about music.  Those of us who learned instruments in the classical fashion remember the arduous, tortuous experience of slogging through Grade 1 Theory workbooks (can you tell how much I love musical theory?).  We identified eighth notes, counted rests, filled in scales and arpegios, etc, etc, etc.  As Trev and Colleen well know, musical theory extends far beyond these basics into some rather complex territory.  I imagine you could do a PhD in musical theory if you wanted.  Would that, however, make you a better guitar player?  Of course it would.  You would have a more significant understanding of what it is that makes music work and would consequently be able to play a given instrument with more competence.  But a deep knowledge of theory would not necessarily make you a great musician.  Only one thing is sufficient for that.  Practice.  Music is a practical discipline and so disciplined practice is required.  What of the opposite scenario, however?  If one practices all the time without once thinking theoretically about music is it possible to become a good musician?  Of course it is.  But constant yet unreflective practice cannot make you a great musician.  Great musicians always think about the nature of music.  Does that mean taking classes in advanced classical theory?  Not necessarily.  A person can theorize deeply about music without even knowing how to read standard musical notation.  That theory will simply take place using some other language.  But careful thinking is necessary for any real virtuoso.  As this example demonstrates, however, neither theory nor practice takes precedence.  Different people may begin in different places or have different emphases, but I imagine this has more to do with personality and giftedness (and perhaps calling) than anything else.  The theory/practice relationship is a chicken and egg thing if you ask me.

Theology is a discipline where the intersection of theory and practice is entirely necessary.  Both uninformed and impractical theology are examples of poor theology.  One of the reasons that I wanted to create this blog is for the purpose of encouraging discussion at this point of intersection.  I hope that the very tension that's been remarked upon here is evidence of some success, and odd as it may sound I hope that we see more tension at this point of intersection.  A well constructed yet eminently functional theology is something that North American evangelicalism needs desperately and I hope our tiny little corner can be a place where that point of intersection is taken seriously.

A Christmas Nightmare

I'm going to tell you my most "memorable" Christmas that I've had. Unfortunately, this story is best told in person with many sound effects and imitations of the people involved, however, my attempt at the written version will have to suffice.

My story takes place in Japan. It was our first Christmas away from our homes. Colleen's Mom and sister came to visit but had just left. According to my recollection, it was somewhere around a week or so before Christmas (you will understand why my memory is hazy as the story continues). Being new to the country, my body was not used to the new germs etc etc that lived in the Tokyo metropolitan area and as such, I got very very sick. I had a nasty fever and a very bad ear infection. The ear infection was so bad that I was actually bleeding out of my ear along with other nasty discharges. It was so bad that I agreed that I needed to see a doctor.

In Japan, one doesn't just go to the doctor. One must see a specialist. So in my case, I had to go to the ear, nose, and throat specialist. Since we had been in Japan for a whopping 5 months or so, my Japanese was rudimentary at best, and downright horrible in reality. Dakara (therefore), Don Love (a missionary in Japan whom Colleen was doing some volunteer work for) accompanied me to this....specialist.

Upon entry into this doctor's office, I felt immediately transported backwards in time. Instead of a futuristic doctor's office like one would expect from the technological leaders of the world, I felt like I had just stepped into the doctor's office in the Western Development Museum in Saskatoon. All of the instruments were made of stainless steel (tongue depressors, chair, etc.) and all of the doctors and nurses were wearing surgical masks and gloves. Don proceeds to go to the front desk lady (who was behind a big piece of glass with a little hole for talking through making me wonder exactly what kind of people usually show up at this place) and check me in.

It comes time for us to go in to see the doctor who has me sit in this very old fashioned looking chair made of mostly metal that goes up and down and leans back and the whole shabang. He gets his little light and starts looking in my ear to see what the matter is. He then proceeds to mutter under his breath in Japanese. "Ahhhh, nan darou. Mita koto nainda. Hmmmmm. Nani sore." Unless you understand Japanese, that made no sense to you, which is exactly how I felt. The doctor then proceeds to pull this giant book off the shelf and starts flipping through the pages looking at pictures, then looking back in my ear. At this point I'm beginning to realize that this guy has no idea what is wrong with my ear and is looking it up in his 'doctor book' right in front of me.

Having apparently come no closer to a conclusion as to what was wrong with my ear, the specialist then proceeds to 'treat' my problem. This is where it gets very interesting. For those who have a tendency to be queasy, this your chance to stop reading. For the more adventurous and those who enjoy hearing of other's agony, read on.

The doctor gets out this 12 inch long stainless steel rod with little cotton swabs on either end. Its basically a giant steel Q-tip. He then starts coming at me with this thing. My first thought is, "okay he's going to try and clean out my ear a little bit. It's a little bit big and a little overkill, but I'm sure he's just ran out of the smaller steel Q-tips." Just as I thought he was going to clean the inside of my ear he starts to put this thing in my nose. My next thought is, "Well maybe he wants to clean out the inside of my nose a bit. Maybe that will help my ear?" I'm sure you have figured out where this is going by now, but I shall continue anyway. The doctor then keeps pushing the giant steel Q-tip all the way up my nose until all 12 inches of it have disappeared into my head. I can feel this thing behind my eye scraping the drum of my ear from the inside. I daren't move at this point for fear that he'll accidentally push it in too far and will be unable to retrieve it. I have to say, that it was probably the most uncomfortable, intrusive thing I've ever had done to me (and I've had a vasectomy). This lasted for probably 30 seconds, although it felt a lot longer than that, until he finally pulled the thing back out which felt like he was going to pull my brain out at the same time a la Egyptian mummification techniques.

The doctor then starts muttering under his breath some more and flipping through his book again when he comes back and starts setting up some kind of....machine. I don't remember exactly what the machine looked like, but I do know what it did. He attached a long rubber hose (about 1/4" in diameter) to the machine and at this point I could already guess where that rubber hose is going. Unfortunately my guess was correct. Up my nose with a rubber hose. He shoves the thing right up there until its touching my ear drum and apparently, the machine was an air compressor which he fired up. He opened up the valve to the rubber hose and started blowing air right into my ear drum from the inside. In retrospect, I would like to know what psi was on that thing and exactly how much pressure it actually took until my ear drum finally blew open and air was flying out of my ear from the inside of my head. Once he had finished blowing air through my nose and out my ear, he pulled the rubber hose back out (my ear immediately plugged up again, although I must admit, those 5 seconds of relief did kind of feel good. But the hose up my nose far outweighed any benefit that those 5 seconds gave me). That was the end of the treatment.

The doctor then prescribed me antibiotics, something else, and something to counteract the antibiotics side effects, and then another medication to counteract the side effects of the medication that was meant to counter the side effects of the antibiotics. Needless to say, it was a poor experience at the doctor and I was supposed to go back a week later for a follow-up. Naturally, I didn't want to have the steel rod rubber hose treatment again so we told everybody we knew to pray for my ear. Within a week, before I had to go back, my ear was completely cleared up. When Don and I went back to the doctor, he looked in my ear and did nothing else. He then explained to Don that he had actually been really worried about my ear and didn't think that it was going to recover and that I was going to lose my hearing. So it is quite safe to say that God performed a miracle for me that Christmas and allowed me to keep my hearing in that ear. In fact, the last time I had a hearing test, that ear did better than the other one. And that is my most memorable Christmas story.

Owarimashita! (The End)

Christmas Tales...

As I'm sure you all know, Christmas is nearly upon us.  In light of the intrinsically busy nature of the holiday season as well as the fact that I hope very much that our contributors and readers are all getting some needed rest, let's shift gears to something a little lighter until after the holidays.

If you're at all interested in blogging here over the break, why not tell us your very favorite Christmas story.  It can be fiction or non-fiction, funny or sad, touching or absurd.  My wife and I have been rediscovering the comforting power of stories lately.  It's served as a reminder that no matter how much propositional theology I read or write, the power of narrative to touch and change my life is always deeper.

So tell us a story, whatever story you like.