A Response to John Piper's "Parents, Require Obedience of Your Children"

This post has been all over my newsfeed today.  There are some good points in it, for sure, but there was also much that left me either shuddering or rolling my eyes.  Our world is already saturated with adversarial, fear-based parenting that tries to mix with common sense, and I would much rather see more Gospel that is truly good news for our children and families.

Piper's article starts off lamenting permissive parenting where parents repeatedly give a child instructions that the child ignores, and then resort to bribes.

OK, I can agree that that is not necessarily effective parenting.  We are teaching children that our words don't matter if we toss them out there willy-nilly and they know that we don't mean them.  However, he doesn't clarify whether or not the children heard the instructions, which actually is rather important.  My children, just like me, often become so engrossed in whatever they are doing that it doesn't always register that someone is talking to them.  In that case, yes, I repeat myself.  I also try to get close enough to my child to gently touch a shoulder and make eye contact so that I know they are aware of what I am saying.

As for the bribery, it is just the flip side of his own form of motivation.  He advocates punishment and fear-based coercion, some parents prefer to rely on bribery as a more positive version.  The thing is, though, that both punishment and rewards are external motivation.  Neither encourage children to do the right thing because of love and desire for righteousness--it is all about what is in it for them and how to keep themselves most comfortable.  I want my children to go beyond self-centeredness to Christ-centeredness.

Then the ick starts to ramp up: he essentially says that if parents don't enforce immediate compliance every time, they are training their children to be shot by the police.   Really?  The fear-mongering here is a bit over the top.  Fear clouds good judgement.  When you encourage parents to operate from a place of fear, almost anything can be justified.  It's the "spank-them-so-they-don't-run-in-the-street" argument on steroids.  After all, if you are convinced that your children will be killed, or go to hell, or whatever other dire outcome, lesser violence seems acceptable and even desirable.  And if you are scared enough, you just might not realize that there are better ways. My own worst parenting moments have always come from fear.


Piper claims that "requiring obedience of children is implicit in the biblical requirement that children obey their parents." Where does he find this in Scripture? The commandment is not, "Parents, demand honor for yourselves."  Read the Gospels and look at Jesus' response to the disciples when they started trying to grasp honor and position for themselves.  Arrogantly demanding that others honor us goes entirely against the nature of Christ.

Consider this other example of Biblical family relationships.  Husbands and wives are commanded to submit to each other, but they are certainly not commanded to coerce the other into submission.  Knowing that Piper believes wives must obey their husbands, if he is going to be consistent with this idea, then he would believe that husbands must force their wives to submit.  That is a recipe for abuse.  For a Reformed pastor to teach that we must coerce others into obeying God seems awfully Inquisition-like.

We are responsible to God for following His commands to us.  We are not responsible for exacting revenge against those who do not soothe our pride.

Another important consideration is that obedience is far more than compliance.  Compliance is just outwardly doing what is required.  True obedience means that they hear with their hearts, they understand, and they choose to obey.  It is a heart response of united purpose.  It cannot be forced.  If it is done out of fear, it is merely compliance, not obedience.   And nowhere are parents given the authority to judge the hearts and intents of their children.  To attempt that is to try to usurp power that belongs to God alone, and a far more serious thing than any childish mistakes our little ones might make.

Piper's third point is also disturbing: "Little children, under a year old, can be shown effectively what they may not touch, bite, pull, poke, spit out, or shriek about. You are bigger than they are. Use your size to save them for joy, not sentence them to selfishness."  First of all, the most basic, introductory info on cognitive development in infants will show that babies this small are not capable of that level of self-regulation. What is most telling to me about this comment is that he doesn't say, "Use your maturity, wisdom and perspective as an adult to help them."  He says, "Use your size."  Instead of adults coming alongside their children to help, Piper implies that they are to bully and intimidate their babies.

Piper's fourth point seems to be that public behavior is much more important than behavior at home, and that consistency is desirable so that we won't be embarrassed in public.  If obedience is really a heart issue, though, then what is done in secret is just as important as what is done with an audience.  So many parents fall into the trap of focusing on outward appearance, and especially of harshly punishing their children for not catering to the parents' pride.

Point number five, that true discipline or teaching requires a lot of effort from the parents is absolutely true.  I disagree with his characterization of children's motives, but he is right that parents need to teach their children even when they are tired or it is inconvenient.  The problem I have here is that Piper again focuses on the outward action, with the example of a child getting out of bed repeatedly.  This is "disobedience" and requires consistent punishment.  Wouldn't it actually be more effective, though, to find out why the child is so resistant to going to bed?  Is he scared? Is she not feeling well?  Is his love-cup empty or leaking so that he needs extra time or cuddles with us?  Is there a problem at school that has her anxious?  

Point six:

"One reason parents don’t require discipline is they have never seen it done. They come from homes that had two modes: passivity and anger. They know they don’t want to parent in anger. The only alternative they know is passivity. There is good news: this can change. Parents can learn from the Bible and from wise people what is possible, what is commanded, what is wise, and how to do it in a spirit that is patient, firm, loving, and grounded in the gospel."

I really like this one, perhaps more than anything else that Piper says in the entire article.  So many parents do fall into the anger/passivity trap because they don't have better tools.  I just wish that he had given them more effective ways to parent "in a spirit that is patient, firm, loving and grounded in the gospel."  I heartily recommend Gentle Christian Mothers, Little Hearts Books, Positive Parenting: Toddlers and Beyond or Aha! Parenting for practical tools that don't rely on punishment.

Point seven: Piper claims that "the obedience which they have learned from fear and reward and respect will become the natural expression of faith."  So, he wants parents to start teaching the kids through fear and reward before they are even capable of understanding obedience.  (Wait a minute--reward? I thought he was against bribery?  And I get the strong impression that respect in Piper's world is a one-way street.)  I would suggest that if the children cannot understand it, it is not true obedience.  It is just conditioning them.  My children are not Pavlovian dogs.  Piper also fails to provide any explanation of how fearing parents will cause them to love God.  My relationship with God is not based on fear that has become internalized to the point of habit.  It is based on love and trust, and that is what I want for my children, too.

Point 8: Piper's vision of children as brats who must be coerced into being convenient for adults is clear.  Is it possible that seeing children as adversaries who must be defeated contributes to family conflict instead of solving it?  The part about them being happier is just weird unless you read it through his final point, which implies the whole "happiness is the only acceptable emotion/punish them till they are sweet enough" ick that Ezzo and Tripp promote. 

Point 9:

"Since parents represent God to children — especially before they can know God through faith in the gospel — we show them both justice and mercy. Not every disobedience is punished. Some are noted, reproved, and passed over. There is no precise manual for this mixture. Children should learn from our parenting that the God of the gospel is a consuming fire (Hebrews 12:7, 29) and that he is patient and slow to anger (1 Timothy 1:16). In both cases — discipline and patience — the aim is quick, happy, thorough obedience. That’s what knowing God in Christ produces."

This one made my head spin a bit.  I have seen some parents take this idea of representing God to children to the point of setting themselves up as idols, but let's bypass that for the moment.  "Not every disobedience is punished.  Some are noted, reproved and passed over."  Didn't Piper just essentially say over and over that inconsistency would cause our children to get shot by the police?  Now we are supposed to pass over disobedience? Oookay. 

"The aim is quick, happy, thorough obedience."  Not only are children supposed to unquestioningly obey our every whim, they must be happy about it!  "Right away, all the way, with a smile," according to some parenting teachers.  Except Jesus' parable of the Two Brothers contradicts this.  The one who obeyed didn't do it quickly and happily.  "That's what knowing God in Christ produces."  But a couple of lines before, Piper says that this is "before they can know God through faith in the Gospel."  So, we are to hold them to a standard that they cannot reach yet, and one that God Himself does not hold us to, but that isn't "the same as requiring perfection". 

I get the idea that Piper is trying to soften his extreme "your child will be shot and it will be your fault!" stance, but is finding it difficult to flesh out.  That is common with a punitive mindset.

Children do need boundaries.  We do need to teach and disciple them like Jesus taught His disciples, even when we are tired or busy.  Instead of passively ignoring misbehavior until we snap in anger, we must learn to parent in a spirit that is patient, firm, loving, and grounded in the gospel.  Piper is saying important truths here.  But this does not mean bullying our children and forcing them to comply through fear.  True discipleship comes when there is so much trust and love in the relationship that the disciple chooses to follow.  

The Lonely Little Pony

"Mami!  Play ponies wif me!"  I winced inwardly.  This little girl is the delight of my eyes, but I hate playing.  Confession time: one of the best things about having four kids is that they have built-in playmates.  At the moment, however, her older siblings were all engrossed in a group video game, and I sensed that she really needed this.  "OK."

I reached into the pile of ponies and randomly chose one. "NO!  Not dat one pony!  Dat one pony's mine!  Get anudder one pony!"  I meekly reached for a different one.  "NO!  Not dat one eider!  Use DIS one pony wif no tail."  I accepted the mangy-looking pony, which had suffered from an unfortunate encounter with a pair of scissors and was also missing chunks of mane. 

"Look at my pony!  She's fwying!"  I held my balding pony up in the air to fly alongside hers.  "NO!  Dat pony can't fwy!  She's too little.  She has to stay on da gwound."  Yeeeep, I could tell this was going to be a fun game.

I trotted my pony around listlessly for a few minutes, resisting the urge to peek at my phone.  "Fluttashy is leabing.  Dey are all leabing in da van for icecweam.  You stay heah.  You aw too little."  The phone won out for a split second, but apparently I was more crucial to the scene than I thought.  Before the Facebook app had opened, she shrieked again.  "Mami!  Play ponies!"

Each attempt to engage was ruthlessly squashed.  "No!  You can't do dat!  Her wings don't work!  Stop, mami!  Your pony is too little!  She doesn't know how to do dat!  No!  She can't come.  Stay heah by yoursewf."  A nice little lecture on reciprocity in play was on the tip of my tongue, when it hit me.  The theme to the whole game was powerlessness and loneliness.   Suddenly, I found myself much more invested in this game.

I began to give her words.  "I feel lonely when I am left behind."  "Yes!  Your pony feels sad, Mami."  "I want to do things, too!  Even though I am small, I can do a lot."  "Yeah, mami!  Be her!"  I was clearly on the right track.  We spent the next hour playing empowering themes.  I let her ponies take the lead, admired her skills and resourcefulness, and gave words to my own little pony.  By the end of the hour, we were both having fun, and I had heard something incredibly important from this little baby girl of mine.

If you had asked me how often she hears that she is too little or that she can't do something, I would have told you that it was extremely rare (and she has never been left behind or excluded from icecream!).  In fact, my concern would have been closer to the spoiling end of things--her brother and sisters dote on her, and even the nine year old will stop and play ponies or anything else with her.  She is the apple of our eye.

Although my girls have never been discouraged from playing princess themes (the eldest actually wore elaborate princess gowns every single day for over a year around age four), and we regularly tell them that they are lovely, we deliberately tell them just as often that they are strong, smart, kind, capable and brave.

The thing is, though, that all of us have times when it is easy to focus on our lack of capabilities, and sometimes we struggle to find the words.  When you are three years old, no matter how beloved you are, you get slapped in the face daily with all the things that you cannot do: you are too small to reach what you want, your videogame skills are not as developed as your siblings', you can't read things for yourself, you have to rely on others all the time.    

If I hadn't sat down to play, I would totally have missed how powerless and lonely she felt.

I also discovered that when I can focus on a purpose in play, I have fun with it.  At one point, she played mami and I played the baby.  With every moment of listening and allowing her the fantasy of omnipotence, she found the power and connection she needed.  Looking back over the last couple of days, I recalled the increase in irritability she had been showing, and I am sure that those unmet needs would have spilled out one way or another.  I am so glad that this time they took the form of a lonely pony with a bad haircut, and that I took the time to play and listen.   

Let Me Hold Them For You

My warrior princess had been going through a period where the warrior was very much in evidence.  Her rages were a terrible thing to behold.  She would yell, stomp, knock things down and throw things.  If someone was too close, it was certainly within the realm of possibility that she would hit or kick.

And I was mad.  Mad at this tiny little girl whose feelings were so, so much bigger than she was.  Mad because she was adding a burden that I didn’t want to bear.  I resented interrupting other activities whenever she got upset to help her calm down and make sure that she didn’t hurt someone or something.  Each outburst added a few more pounds to my load of mommy guilt as I fought to hold on to patience, peace and self control, and often dropped the ball.

Could we have punished or ignored it out of her?  I asked myself that several times.  Honesty compelled me to admit, though, that all punishment would have accomplished is to turn that fearsome rage inward, and the thought of that seething inside of her was far worse than dealing with the outward expressions.

“Use your words.”  Except words don’t matter to this one they way they do to her older sister and me.  This mighty girl has always been a tornado. Walking earlier than any of her siblings, always jumping, always running, perpetual motion, breath-taking hugs, bouncing from delight, shuddering under sadness–her language has always been more physical than verbal.
“I don’t love you.  And (her voice caught here) I don’t love God.”  Oooow.  Words aren’t the release for her that they are to me, but she knew how to use them to kick my mama gut."

What do you do when the weight of big emotions is too strong for your little one, and you are cracking under the load of mommy guilt?

What if "use your words" doesn't work for your child whose language is much more physical than verbal?

What does it look like to bear one anothers' burdens?

I am over at A Deeper Story today sharing how my mighty girl and I are learning together.  Come join us! 

Image credit: woodleywonderworks

Watch and Pray *Sensitive*

Her eyes are blank and there is a pool of blood spreading around her face on the floor.  I wake up wanting to vomit and check her Facebook page repeatedly until I see a post.  The relief is incomplete because she and I both know that one day it might not be a dream.  Her children's faces--so close in ages to mine--rise in my heart, and I pray.

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Something in her voice was off.  "Well, it couldn't really be rape.  After all, they were married.  She knew when she married him that sex was part of it."  It seemed like we were discussing a newspaper case at the time.  But years later I can still remember the oddness in her voice and I wonder.

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It's the kids, you see.  She can protect them just a bit right now, deflect his rages, and watch that he doesn't go too far with them.  If she left, who would be there to get between them?

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"God hates divorce."  Heaviness and resignation in her voice, she asks what the church congregation would think if the pastor's wife left.  "It would be like a slap in the face to God.  I just need to be more submissive and try harder.  If I can just praise and affirm him more, and show him that I respect him...men need that, you know..."

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Everyone else at the table shifts uncomfortably at his "joke" that is yet another jab at her.  She doesn't seem to notice and gets up to refill his drink again.

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Enthusiasm dies down to quiet disappointment.  "Oh, I would love to!  But I better not.  He wouldn't like it."  In her world, it is clear that activities--everything--must be planned around whether or not he likes it, even if it doesn't affect him in any way.  It's second nature to her to try to placate him, but even after all these years she doesn't seem to see that it is a constantly moving target.  He will always, always find something else to be upset about, another way to control her.  Her life revolves around trying to make him happy. 

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I take a deep breath and quietly say, "This is abuse.  The way he treats you isn't right."  For a moment, her eyes flash with fear, anger, surprise, relief, uncertainty and thankfulness.  I'm not sure which will win out.  Then she smiles and brushes it off.  "You're exaggerating.  It isn't abuse.  He would never hit me.  He just...well, I think sometimes he didn't get enough nurturing as a kid and is still hurting."

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He controls the money.  He controls everything.  She scrapes to find ways to stretch what he gives her to pay for the doctors visits and new shoes for the kids.  She puts off the doctor or dentist visit for herself again, forgoes the new shoes that she needs.  He goes out to eat and gets a new computer.  "Well, but the money is really his, you know.  He is the one who works.  I'm just home with the kids." (She works more in a day than he does in a week, but he is still "too tired" to help with the kids when he gets home.  He "needs to unwind", even though she hasn't had a break in weeks.  So he spends another night playing videogames.)

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They tried counseling.  Well, she tried and he went along.  It didn't help.  The church counselor told her to affirm him more and build him up more.  Praise him a lot.  He said all the right things. Showed enough regret for his mistakes (although he was always a little vague on the details).  She really was a bit messed up from her family issues, you know (whispered confidentially.)  Eventually, they stop going.  The cycle hasn't really changed, but he has some new words to use against her now.  He even tries to convince her that she is the abusive one, especially if she has ever fought back.

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Once your eyes are opened, it is hard to unsee things.  I watch her pain, helpless and desperate for her to wake up (but if she did, how much better would that be?  Sure, it is easy for me to yell, "Leave him!"  For her to do that, especially with children involved, is no small feat.)   I do my best to be a safe friend and pray desperately for angels to protect her.  Wincing at the telling comments she doesn't even notice about how she is trying to avoid upsetting him, I try to balance truth and love with the fear of driving her away.  I watch and pray.

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I really think there is an abusers' handbook somewhere, because I have known so many women in abusive relationships, and most of these could apply to every one of them (if you know me in real life and are trying to guess who these stories are about, don't.  Just know that they could be any woman).  If you see yourself in here, please know that you matter.  You are not crazy, you are not blowing it out of proportion, it is not your fault.  Read Why Does He Do That: Inside the Mind of Angry and Controlling Men by Lundy Bancroft.  Read my friend Hope's blog about leaving her abusive husband and finding healing.  Talk to a domestic violence counselor.  Freedom and healing really are possible. 


Related posts: Sex Ed in a Christian Home: Abusive Relationships 
A Letter to My Divorced Friends

You Are Not a Failure

This isn't what I thought it would look like.  When I imagined my life with children before actually having kids, I expected it to look more polished and less challenging.  I thought it would be easier.  Not the physical stuff--I was fine with lack of sleep and changing diapers and dealing with tummy bugs and all that.  But this emotional work of being a parent?  It's hard, y'all.  As Shrek would say, there are so many layers.  And we are definitely talking onions instead of parfaits.

This has been a challenging last few months, and I am so, so glad that it didn't happen earlier in our parenting journey.  When we first made the transition to gentle parenting, I was still looking for guarantees.  You know--if you breastfeed, your kids won't have allergies or get sick.  If you parent gently, your kids will always be gentle and compassionate and well-behaved because they will always want to follow your instructions.  If you do this, if you do that, if you check all the Good Parenting boxes, if you follow this manual...  I never would have said that, of course.  I would have told you that just because certain outcomes are more likely doesn't mean that it will happen in every case.  Deep down, though, the residue of growing up a Gothardite means that it is my default programming to believe that if I just try harder and do it right, then everything will be perfect.

Of course, that means that when it doesn't turn out that way, I start to panic.  It is all my fault!  If only I had done this.  Maybe I was wrong about that.  I should have tried harder and been more consistent and...

Those thoughts are tricky little zombies.  Reeking death and decay, and ready to suck out our brains.  No matter how many times I try to kill them, they seem to rise again. 

Honestly, I haven't yet figured out how to keep them from coming back.  The best I can do is resist the deadly lies.  Because the truth is, I don't think I can try harder right now, and I am starting to believe--really believe--that I am not supposed to.  I am not a failure.  Neither are you.

As messy as this life looks some days, there is still beauty in it.  There is love.  There is growth.  It gets better.  You aren't meant to do it all.  You wouldn't put a crushing weight on your children and tell them not to ask for help--show them what it looks like to allow others the blessing of helping your family.  Most of all, know that these days come to everyone in real life.  You can listen to the zombies, or show your children how to fight the lying, shaming soul suckers.

You are lovely.  You are.  Your children have God's fingerprints all over them, even if you have to look hard to see them.  Breathe and let grace wash over you and refresh your spirit. 

Because I'm the Grown Up, That's Why!

Today has been full of whining.  Me, not so much the kids.  Some days it sucks to be the grown up.  I'd much rather indulge in selfishness.  But what is discipline, really?  It isn't punishment.  Discipline in an adult should look like love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, goodness, faithfulness, self-control, humility and grace.  What is the point of trying to discipline our children (NOT punish them--I am talking about helping them grow as disciples of Christ) if we haven't learned to discipline ourselves yet?  That isn't exactly a rhetorical question, because for me, at least, it is an ongoing process that I have not yet fully achieved.  My answer is that there has to be grace for all of us, and reliance on the Holy Spirit to help us.  And while being a grown up isn't always beautiful, growth truly is a beautiful thing.

Pierced and Proud--My Little Girl Got Earrings

Of all of our parenting choices that have been outside the mainstream, the one that has actually gotten the most comments was our refusal to pierce our daughters' ears when they were born.  This shocked some dear little abuelitas (not our kids' abuelitas, though) to their core.  (Of course, neither did we shave their heads when they were infants so that their hair would grow in thicker, either.  :shrug).  For us, this was easy compared to so many decisions that we researched and weighed--as new parents, the last thing we wanted was to deal with an unnecessary wound on a tiny baby!  Even more importantly, they weren't our bodies to modify.

One of our greatest responsibilities as parents is to teach our children that their bodies belong to them.  No one else is allowed to do things to their bodies without permission.  Sure, there may be medical emergencies that override that, but seriously, getting ear jewelry isn't one.  We do all that we can to keep our children safe, but we know that there are predators out there.  Children who are confident in telling others, even adults in positions of authority, not to touch their bodies are less likely to become prey, and more likely to tell us if it should happen.  And as they grow older, sometimes the lines get a little blurry.  We live in a rape culture where it is assumed that guys are supposed to pressure girls, and girls will eventually give in.  I want their body boundaries to be such a part of them that they will never feel uncertain of their right to control what happens to their bodies.

Since my ears are pierced (and I am very thankful that my parents also bucked tradition and let me choose for myself), my kidlets have watched me wear different earrings and asked questions about it.  We talked about different options, including waiting to get her ears pierced as a celebration of menarche, but this summer my nine year old decided that she wanted to go ahead.  She kept asking how much it would hurt (she is very sensitive to needles), and was clearly nervous.  However, she was also adamant that she wanted to do it.  I was honest that it would hurt some, but also that if this was what she wanted that I believed she was strong enough to go through it whenever she decided she was ready.

Mine were done with a gun at the mall, but after researching I decided to use a professional piercer for my kids.  There are many reasons, but think of the difference between a hole from a hole punch versus the ragged edges from pushing a sharp pencil through a piece of paper and how that could effect healing, for starters.  I asked for recommendations, and my midwife shared the place where her daughters got their ears pierce, and several other friends recommended the same place.

Like any professional tattoo/piercing parlor, the decor was geared more for adults (my kidlets were simultaneously fascinated and horrified by the Native American sculptures of warriors who had been pierced through the chest and were hanging from a tether).  We didn't look closely at the tattoo designs or magazines.  (Also, like most other piercing places I have researched, they only pierce lobes on children, and we were required to bring her birth certificate and photo ID).

The guy who was going to pierce her came out.  He was probably 6'4 and around 260 lbs.  His head was shaved and covered in ink, and the rest of him that was visible was likewise covered with piercings, gauges and tats (he awed my kids by passing a pencil easily through the gauge in his septum).  He was also the nicest and most professional guy we could have asked for.

He spoke directly to her and then to me, describing exactly what would be done, how and why.  He asked her questions to make sure that she understood and that this was what she wanted, answered honestly when she asked if it would hurt, and did everything possible to help her feel relaxed and comfortable.

The only awkward moment came as a result of her little sister having a meltdown shortly after we went back.  In hindsight, it was totally a mommy fail to bring her--I knew she was exhausted and not feeling great, but my eldest didn't want to wait and the little sis thought she would be able to behave well.  She started fussing loudly and then tried to hit me when I picked her up.  Our piercer said that when he was a boy he would have been spanked hard for that.  My eldest looked at him with such compassion and said, "That is horrible!  No one should ever hurt you like that!"  He responded that it taught him a lesson.  She shook her head sadly and told him that if anyone ever spanked her that she would have just decided in her heart that she didn't want to do what they said and would have fought them in every way she could.  She said it was so much better when parents could actually help their kids instead of scaring them.  I am sure that the behavior of the little one provoked doubts about the effectiveness of gentle discipline, but he was also very impressed with the our eldest, and was very polite in responding to her.  :)


He had her count with him as he pierced the first ear, and the needle was through and out before she could even blink.  He asked if she needed a moment before doing the other ear.  She said yes with perfect calm, took a deep breath and smiled and told him to go ahead.  He did the other just as easily, and she beamed at her reflection.  "It didn't even hurt hardly at all!"

She has been so pleased with her new pierced ears, and has taken excellent care of them without hardly any reminder from me (another bonus of letting them choose when they are older!).  More than just being happy with the way they look, she is so proud of herself for her bravery and her growing maturity.  I look at her eyes sparkling even more than the earrings, and am so pleased that we let her make the choice for herself. 

Missing Sunday Dinner

There are so many important conversations going on right now about including others at the table.  My family in Christ is challenging the pharisaical, dismissive attitudes toward women, the poor, our LGBT brothers and sisters, and all who are denigrated and ignored.  The Church talks a lot about loving children, and shows it with prizes and programs and playgrounds. The thing is, I see the harsh attitude toward children that labels them as selfish, lazy manipulative sinners, and I have to cry out.  We are missing Sunday dinner with our church family because the food at the kids' table makes my family sick.

The post is over at A Deeper Family. 

Image Credit: Keoki Seu on Flickr

Punishment VS Discipline

Trying Church...Again

Disclaimer:  this is going to be one of those long, messy, rambly, processing-out-loud, blahgy posts.

I went to church again today.  Growing up, one mild area of friction between my parents was about how many times a week we should participate in a church service.  My dad was content with a Sunday morning service, and my mom wanted Sunday morning, Sunday nights and Wednesday nights, and possibly a prayer meeting in there somewhere.  I sided firmly with my dad. 

I also suffered the burnout that comes from many years of being part of a tiny church where your parents are pastors.  Every Sunday meant work, not rest.  Cleaning the church, preparing communion, teaching Sunday school, helping in the worship service, interpreting, working in the nursery--there were always several jobs that needed to be done, and even those that I started out feeling excited about eventually became a chore.  As an extreme introvert, the idea of making small talk after the service and greeting everyone was excruciating.  I eventually reached the point that unless God writes something in burning letters on a wall, I will NOT volunteer or accept any special responsibility for many years.

Before our children were born, we seemed to have found the perfect fit for us in a church.  I loved the worship time, loved the pastor and his family and always came away from the services refreshed and looking for God in a new way.  Then.  Then we had kids and God changed some things in me.  Then the pastor preached on spanking and how if we love God and our children, then we will hit them.  And I couldn't let that go, and my husband and I wrote a letter, which eventually resulted in this blog.  At first, I just figured we could agree to disagree, but the convictions in my heart about how we treat the smallest of these grew until I couldn't sit under a pastor who preaches that we have to spank any longer.

When you have four very young children and are committed not to leaving them to cry in church with people that you probably don't know well enough to let them babysit outside of church, going seems like an exercise in futility.  I spent most of my time walking the kidlets in the halls or hanging out in a nursery with germy toys and crying little ones.  I never came away feeling spiritually fed, that is for sure. 

So we just stopped going.

Every now and then we would try different ones, but they all preached about spanking on the very day we decided to visit, which is almost funny--really, it seemed like a bizarre coincidence, but it saved us time.  After the last fiasco, I couldn't even work up the desire to try anymore. 

It felt so awkward answering questions about where we go to church.  I felt like our kids were missing out on something important, and I missed it for myself.  Although, when we visited any church, I was always tense, waiting for the ick to start.  I also found my emotions going haywire with all kinds of little things, and it was generally exhausting and stressful.

But this morning, I worked up the courage to try again.  After reading the encouraging statement from the United Methodist Church regarding corporal punishment, I decided to go there.  Their only service is at 9:00 AM, which is a little earlier than I am used to, but my nine year old and I managed to go, and my husband graciously took over the younger ones so that I could enjoy the service in peace.

The congregation was really friendly.  I liked it that there was a pretty wide variety of dress--from casual pants and T shirts to fancy dresses and heels.  It felt like people dressed for themselves and not everyone else.  I did NOT like it that there was not a variety of ethnicity.  There were over 100 people present, and I saw one man who appeared as though he might be Hispanic or Native American and one boy who was African American.  Once during the sermon, the pastor referenced race in order to pointedly identify a criminal as African American, although that was completely irrelevant to the story.  (Every time I am seriously tempted to include profanity in a post, it is about a church, but seriously, for the pastor to do that detracted from any positive in his message.  And probably explains the lack of diversity more than it doesn't.)

The music, well, bless their hearts.  Probably the least said about that the better.  They did sing "Jesus Loves Me" for one of the hymns, including a second verse that I don't remember hearing before.  The message was better than some I have heard where the pastor clearly wasn't prepared and just got up and rambled for awhile and then relied on the worship team to pull him out of it whenever he got stuck, but it didn't make me think or feel anything (other than to critique that one aforementioned reference), and he read it in a droning rocking horse rhythm that rose and fell regardless of the content, which made it hard not to tune out.

On the plus side, I LOVED the responsive readings, the creed and prayers, and the communion service.   Also, there was a feeling of family and affection among all the members there--I got the strong impression that these people do life together, not just church.  When we arrived, they had boxes of children's activity kits stacked to hand out to any families with kidlets, and there was a constant whispering and wriggling from all the children present.  Not in a distracting way, but just in a normal, real-life way.  My nine year old loved the children's church and has asked a dozen times to go back.  That is a first, and is very important to me.

I don't particularly want to go back, although I might for my daughter.  I just hate that the idea of meeting with my brothers and sisters in Christ comes with such a deep heaviness and feeling of discouragement.

Where, oh where, is my group of people who love Jesus and actually want to treat all people the way they would like to be treated?