"Until Christ is formed in you": Nurturing the spirituality of children

Theology Today, Apr 1999 by Dawn, Marva J

The perplexing pain of childbirth, to which Paul refers in these verses from his letter to the Galatians, certainly embraced the piercing anguish that stabbed him when he discovered their rebellious turn to the legalism of the "circumcision sect"-but the agony of the entire pregnancy included long months of complications, extended hours of mourning sickness, and the awkwardness of trying to navigate with the extra (spiritual) weight Paul thereby had to carry. Similarly, nurturing Christian spirituality in children (our own and those in our Christian community) is more like recovering from jaw surgery than like the surgery itself. That might seem an odd analogy, but the illustration struck me recently as I was savoring pureed peas and mashed noodles.

Last month, acute pain made urgent some oral surgery which had been put off for 25 years because it could possibly break my jaw and thereby require wiring my jaws together for two months, though most foods that keep people alive in such circumstances are strictly off-limits to me because of minimal kidney functioning. The surging euphoria I experienced when my jaw didn't break in the surgery, however, was immediately replaced by dread as the doctor showed the X-ray of the large hole in my jaw, looked me straight in the eye, and intensely warned, "You will eat soft food for three months, won't you!" What is soft, but low in potassium, phosphorus, and protein?

We who treasure children and want to nurture faith and faith-life in them, would often rather have a quick and easy miracle than the endless, frequently burdensome discipline (for ourselves and them) of genuine Christian training. But the long months of eating the same (spiritual) food over and over, of being extraordinarily careful and watchful and patient and diligent, of additional practices and ardent prayer, of resisting temptations and maintaining persistent self-control, of loving labor and sensitive safekeeping are not only necessities for the spiritual formation of the children; these nurturing disciplines on our part are also worth the efforts for our own sake.

QUICK TECHNOLOGICAL FLY OR THE PROCESS AND PAIN OF CHILDBIRTH?

Before we look at the practices by which we can nourish faith in others we must understand some of the factors that make the process so difficult. Why is it that we want instant miracles?

Of course, the obvious reason is that we human beings are basically lazy. I'd much rather have a simple jaw miracle than have to be watchful not to chew for ninety days; it takes extra effort to make both pureed meals for myself and something tasty for my husband; the temptation to disobey my kidney-saving diet is intensified by the softness requirement; lately I've had too many scares-and pain that keeps me wondering if the healing is progressing. Even so, it is hard to keep the efforts of time-consuming spiritual nurturing a top priority in our schedules; it is difficult to be constantly directed toward the other; we are easily tempted with methods that are more "fun" but are not good for souls; the children's behaviors make us doubt whether all our faithful practices are really helping them.

On a deeper level, a major factor leading to our desire for swift miracles is the rapid escalation of the technological society, for technology has trained us to expect "quick fixes." Furthermore, as Jacques Ellul frequently observed, the progressive technicization of modern society has led to a decrease in intimacy-and, I would add, in skills and time for relationships, as well as in the level of true intimacy in society's basic social fabric. Consequently, people become increasingly desperate for closeness, but only know how to create technology, with the result that the poles are reversed and we begin to intimize our technology and technologize our intimacy.l Thus, in our search for our own and our children's intimacy with God (and, significantly, for our intimacy with our children), we frequently know nothing better than to find the right "Technique," the best quick fix, to create it.2

Cynthia A. Jurisson criticizes such "technical spirituality," which "prescribes certain exercises and rituals, essentially techniques."3 She recognizes that many of these are not means for genuine spiritual growth, but merely attempts at self improvement, "foolproof coping mechanisms to deal with the hassles of modern life that hinder the pursuit of success."4 At root, then, we must recognize that often the longing for quick miracles for our children's faith arises because "we [ourselves] have, in effect, abandoned the religious quest for truth and meaning for the sake of comfort and convenience."5

In contrast, Jurisson promotes "an evangelical spirituality," which "has as its goal not to appease or impress God (or the self) but simply to listen to and for God." If, as she urges, "the emphasis is not on finding tailor-made spiritual techniques and exercises to deepen one's awareness [as spirituality manufactured by self] but on placing oneself in a position to hear the word,"6 then how can we as mentors serve to help our children be in such a position?