Kid Wisdom

My three-year-olds keep challenging me. I don't mean with unrelenting temper tantrums or incessant "why's". They challenge me philosophically. And I don't mean parenting philosophies. I mean life philosophies.

Yesterday Kaylee said, "I get a good feeling when there's something new." There was no context for her statement so I basically had no idea what she was talking about.

"Like excited?" I asked.

"No, more like brave," she said.

I was struck again that new situations require some level of courage for all of us and that courage or "brave" is a "good feeling". Three-year-olds actually know what they're talking about sometimes. It's worth listening.

Also I was beginning to think my idea about broken things becoming something new was backfiring on me. Kalyee and Emily got little plastic yo-yos in party bags from Mathias's one-year-old birthday yesterday. Kaylee had wanted a yo-yo like forever. As soon as she got it home and started playing with it, it hit the floor too hard, and split in two. Kalyee was devistated. We talked about it and I hugged her, but I didn't bring up my broken things becoming new theory. I couldn't really think how a broken plastic yo-yo could be anything but a broken plastic yo-yo. That just goes to prove my limited creativity and insight.

The next moring Kaylee got up and asked for her broken yo-yo parts. I gave them to her. She looked at them and declared that they were now extra hockey pucks for playing hockey.

"I want to break my yo-yo too!" Emily said. Now this was getting out of controle. I didn't want the girls to be randomly breaking toys!

"But, Emmy, if you break your yo-yo, you won't have your yo-yo anymore," I tried to explain.

"But if I don't break it, it can't become something new..."

I let her break her yo-yo.

Something Broken - Something New

The other day, Emily and Kaylee each had a candy watch with a square candy face. Kalyee dropped her's and it broke into four or five pieces.

"Wahhhhhhhh!"

I came to see what was wrong.

"It breaked, and I don't want it to be breaked!" she was in a panic.

I told her I didn't think I could fix it. That led to hieghtened hysterics.

"I can't fix it," I said. "But sometimes when something get's broken, it becomes something new."

Emily thought that was a pretty good deal, and so she threw her's on the floor intentionally to break it.

"Look Kaylee!" Emily delcared excitedly as she inspected the newly broken pieces of her candy watch. "It turns into candy!" (The fact that it was already candy was entirly beside the point.)

Kaylee was unconvinced and continued to cry. Emily was determined.

"Look Kalyee! It's a new thing! Just try it Kaylee."

Eventually Kaylee consided and tried her "new candy". She decided it was pretty good after all - even if it tased suspicioulsy like the old candy.

I like the idea that something broken, can become something new.

Risky Language

I'm not quite done A New Kind of Christian yet. I know I'm a slow reader. Actually I'm an average to fast reader who just hardly ever gets a chance to sit down with a book! (Sorry, little rant there...)

I found a quote in I liked, " Spiritual realities require risky language." That makes so much sense to me.

I know it's cliche by now, but I love that CS Lewis quote from Narnia that the Beavers tell the children when they discover that Aslan is a lion and ask if he's safe. The Beavers tell them that Aslan isn't safe at all, but he's good.

Somehow that fits in the same category for me.

Heat makes storms

It's really hot.

I like thunderstoms.

That's all.

Belief vs Knowledge

Oh, many moons ago now, we did a bible study one night on faith. It got me wondering is it possible to believe in something, say in God, but not know 100% for sure that he exists? Like, I believe he exists but I don't know absolutly for sure.

I've come to think that faith requires doubt.

If you know something 100% for sure, you don't need faith. If I have faith in God, it means on some level, I'm not sure.

A new kind of Christian makes me mental

Everyone said read Brian McLaren. His book, A New Kind of Christian, is great. It’s radical. It’s a new way of thinking. So I read it. And it totally freaked me out. But not because it’s so radical. Rather most of what he proposes is an unmitigated no-brainer to me. I don’t mean to sound arrogant. It’s a good book and all, but most of what he presents as new and edgy I thought was standard Christianity. Rob reminds me of a couple of differences between the author and myself. He’s an American evangelical writing almost 10 years ago. I’m a younger Canadian, (younger than Brian McLaren anyway…) with a secular up brining who was “saved” into the Anglican Church as a young adult. My worldview is different.

Okay.

But here’s my problem. It says in his book, and I’m starting to see in among some Christians I know, that what he talks about is considered heresy. I can’t even express how much that disturbs me.

I guess it has me on edge for a couple of reasons.

1. I don’t want people to think I’m heretical. I don’t want people to be afraid of me. That makes me sad. Or to think I’m falling away from my faith or questioning basic tenants of the faith. I’m not. It makes me angry people would question that. (Although, admittedly, I when around evangelicals I tend to emphasis the fact that I’m a “liturgical” Christian as opposed to an “evangelical” Christian (in fact, I’m both as well as “charismatic”) not that those distinctions matter much to me, but it just amuses me to see the obvious line of questions to do with veracity of my salvation run across their minds. Sometimes they voice them, sometimes they don’t.)

2. There is a version of Christianity I think is destructive. This is the version McLaren is questioning in his book. I think there is a way of doing Christianity that hurts some people, that causes them to become more distant from God, that draws them away from hope, and into despair. I’ve heard of it, and I’ve seen it happen. It makes me sad to see it, but it enrages me to see people defend this form of Christianity as the only true expression of Christian faith. Like, really really enrages me.

3. Its stupid (i.e. thoughtless, fear-based, ignorant and shortsighted) and stupid stuff bugs me.

4. And the thing that gets me the most, is that I think I’ve actually seen it. That’s what really freaks me out. I think it’s alive and well, not just some relic of modern American culture. It’s here, in my own Christian communities. I think it’s controlling forces that could be used for untold good within the church and parachurch world - holding them hostage, keeping them stagnant. That makes me mental.

5. I don’t know what to do about it.

I realize I haven’t done a good job explaining what this “destructive” version of Christianity is – what it looks like. But I guess I’d need a book to do that. I also haven’t really explained McLaren’s premise in A New Kind of Christian, so, since he does both in his book, I suggest you read it. Then at least you’ll know what I’m talking about.

Fluid church communities

I wonder about what holds church communities together. Our community, King’s Bridge, is so different we’ve wondered if we even are technically a “church”. Every time we have this discussion we decide that we are. But we have community members that are involved in other churches. We have people that drift through our community and stay for brief periods and then move on. We have some that stay. Some have been with us since the beginning. It’s very fluid and very relational.

We criticize those who “church hop” admonishing them to find a community where there can lock in and invest and be invested in. I’ve always agreed with that, finding church hopers to be flaky, fickle and self-interested.

But, on the other hand, maybe it’s okay for churches to be a little more open handed with their members. Maybe if Christians moved around and settled into certain communities for periods of time then moved on, that’d be okay. Maybe they have a few communities on the go at once. It seems to me the crosspollination is a good thing. We would link with each other within the body of Christ based on other premises than official church membership. Let’s not be so freaked out about losing members to other congregations. Let's see how we can help meet the needs within the body of Christ together.

The non-un people

We Christians like categories.

The one that bugs me most right now is the "non-un people". You know, the unchurched, non-Chrsitans, unsaved people - them. I'm not sure it's a helpful way to refer to people. Really, how'd you like to be a non-un person? And is it possible to have a way of looking at other people on whatever journey they are on that doesn't include an us vs. them attitude?

I know God will judge everyone at the end of time and He will seperate the sheep from the goats, yaddy yadda. But that's for God to do, not me.

I'm wondering what would happen if we stopped being so condesending and demoraizing to people by using terms that began with 'non' and 'un'. Maybe they'd come to understand Christ's love and redeeming power in their lives sooner.

Maybe we would too.

Chop sticks and other gender stereotypes

Rob and I took the girls for "Pho" tonight. Kaylee pointed out that girls use chopsticks and boys use forks. I was a generalization based on the fact that I use chopsticks and Rob doesn't. It scares me a bit because I wonder what other generalizations and observations about life are they picking up from us. Gender based or not. Lots, I guess. That's how it's suposed to work. But, like, yikes! I'm a mess! It scares me.

I just wanna be a sheep

You know, I still want to be one of the herd. I'm not a teenager anymore, not even close =sigh=. I wish I didn't care about fitting in and being accepted anymore, but I do. It seems by now I should have gained the confidence, or self actualization, or whatever, to be myself, and stand strongly behind what I believe, and those I believe in.

I've realized recently I'll do almost anything to gain acceptance of "the group". I came close to justifying the idea of tearing down one friend to gain acceptance another (who I knew was mad at the first - it would have been an such an easy in). I was a bit horrified when I realized what I had been contemplating on a somewhat subconscious level.

Please tell me I'll outgrow this.

Rod & Todd Flanders

Emily and Kaylee have recently taken to playing "Communion". They break off pieces of thier buttered bun, that was for dipping in their soup, and say, "The body of Jesus for you", then the give each other drinks of milk, "The blood of Jesus for you."

They continue with with, "I'm a disciple!" Or, the only slightly heretical, "I'm Jesus!"

I supose I should be encouraged at this seemingly advanced spiritual exploration and development. But it kinda freaks me out. Kids playing "Communion" doesn't seem normal. I guess I have a running subtext in my head about the sterotypical, and irrevocably messed up, pastor's kids. Also, growing up normal myself, (i.e. not Christian) I don't have a frame of reference for this sort of thing.

It kinda reminds of Rod & Todd Flanders. I'll try to remain calm and ride it out.