Showing posts with label mini-series: how do kids understand who God is. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mini-series: how do kids understand who God is. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

how do kids understand who God is? - wrap up

I've been enjoying this discussion about how kids understand who God is - thanks, everyone! Here's my own answer to the question 'How do kids understand who God is?', with a little help from my friends.

1. We don't talk down to kids (although we talk as simply and clearly as possible). We tell them what they - and we - don't really understand, but which we know is true because God's word, the Bible, tells us so: for example, that God is a spirit (he's invisible, but he's real and he's everywhere); that he's the 'Trinity', one God in three persons; that he loved us enough to send his Son to die in our place ... And then, as they grow, they grow into our answers (but never to completely understand them, and that's good too).

2. Isn't it the same with lots of things we tell our kids? We tell them the world is round and wherever you stand on it, you're standing the right way up - something my 7 year old is completely confused about and asks me about all the time!!! We tell them many things we know are true and they (and we) don't fully understand. You don't need to completely understand something to know it and trust it, often because you trust the source it came from (which leads to my next answer...).

3. The very best answer for anyone is always one that takes them back to Jesus and the Bible, because that's where we want to direct our attention. In the end, we trust and serve God not because we understand him, but because we see him clearly in his Son (his life, death and resurrection) and in the Bible (his revealed word about himself). That's where all of us, Christian or non-Christian, adult or child, come to know and trust in God. Which is why we open the Bible with our kids and introduce them to Jesus, who is bigger than we will ever understand.

4. None of this would mean much without our example, as our friend from Tasmania wrote:

As preschoolers (my experience so far!) I think my kids realise that I believe God is real, so they do too. My two-year-old talks to God because I do. My four-year-old is excited that Jesus is alive because I am. They don't really understand - but of course I don't really understand either. He is someone we don't see, but who loves us. We talk about God because He is a part of our lives. And we answer their questions as best we can.
5. Bec pointed out something I hadn't thought of before: not only do we set a good example for our children by our lives, but we embody truth for them. Kids learn in concrete ways. They learn about God's fatherhood as they experience human fatherhood. They learn about the marriage between Christ and the church as they observe our marriage. They learn about grace as they experience a relationship of grace with us.

6. In the end, as Gordon said, the problem isn't one of understanding (for we will never fully comprehend our great God) but of hearts that reject his truth. Only God's grace can open our children's hearts and help them to know and trust in him. So we lead our kids to God's word, we explain his truth to them, we live out our faith before them - but, most importantly, we pray for them.

Lots of helpful answers! Thanks, friends.

Thursday, May 5, 2011

how do kids understand who God is? - Gordon's answer

Yesterday I asked, 'How do kids learn about God? How do they understand who God is?'.

Here's a very helpful response from my friend Gordon:
I reckon the main problem is that we see understanding of God as a matter of comprehension rather than repentance.

If comprehension is the issue, then not only do children have a problem but so do grown-ups. Who is God? How may he be known? What does it mean to follow him? The answers to those questions fall into the category of either

(a) impossible to answer satisfactorily for anyone operating with a human mind, which would be most of us.

(b) easy to comprehend but impossible to accept on account of our status as individuals dead in our sins.

Once we realize that the real issue is sin, and that the only way to overcome this is by the power of the Holy Spirit working through the resurrection of Christ, then the answer becomes 'by grace'—with the only proviso being that we make sure that we are using simple words that little kids can understand, like 'dad', 'God is the boss', 'sin' 'I'm sorry' and 'you're forgiven'.
Add your own ideas here.

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

how do kids understand who God is? - a question for you

One of the best things about blogging is the great questions people ask.

A mum from Tasmania read my post about 4-year-old Andy's conversations about God. She passed on this question from a friend:

'But how do kids learn about God? How do they understand who he is?'
What do you think? Can you help me answer her?

Just click here.

Friday, April 22, 2011

conversations about God

Andy (4) is trying to figure out what God is like.

"God doesn't have arms, Mummy. God doesn't have legs."

And then, with complete certainty,

"Hey, Mummy, God is a floating head!"

So much for the old man in the clouds! Instead we have a rather disconcerting image that sounds like it came straight out of The Wizard of Oz (which I'm starting to be glad he hasn't seen).

It's a little over Andy's head (no pun intended), but we talk about what it means for God to be a spirit without a body. God is everywhere.

(Through my head drifts question 4 of the Westminster Shorter Catechism, learnt some time in my Presbyterian youth - "God is a spirit, infinite, eternal, and unchangeable...".)

"So does that mean I'm inside God? Is God inside me?" (Great hilarity.)

Well, I guess that would have to be a "yes". We're not there yet, but at least he's getting closer.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

talking about predestination with children

It's the question that every Christian parent knows is coming sooner or later. I'm driving when six-year-old Thomas pipes up from the back seat. We're alone, which doesn't happen often in a family of six, so it's a precious time for us. Deep thoughts are clearly running through his head: “Mummy, why do some people believe in Jesus and not others?”

It's a question my older son and daughter have never thought to ask. But Thomas is a theologian in miniature, and he's been puzzling over complex doctrinal issues since he was three: “Mummy, why can't I see God?”; “If I wave my hand like this, am I touching God?”; “How long is forever?”; and now, “Why do some people believe in Jesus and not others?”

There's a moment of silence while I consider what to say. I could play it down. I could talk about the human factors—our choices, our backgrounds, our opportunities. I could even do some fancy theological footwork and talk about how God's choice and ours fit together. But I decide to start from first causes: “We believe in Jesus because God chooses us.”

That's not the end of it, of course. It never is with this child! We throw around ideas about total depravity (“Some people are just really bad, aren't they Mummy?” “No, honey, we all do bad things every day. We all need God to forgive us.”) and unconditional election (“God doesn't choose us because we're better than anyone else, but because he loves us.”).

As we talk, I think of my own parents. I thank God that during my childhood, they didn't avoid the hard questions. They talked about the Trinity. They talked about hell. And they talked about predestination.

I remember grappling with the implications of predestination when I was about nine years old. I stared at the countries scattered across the double page of an atlas, wondered about all the people who didn't believe in Jesus, and felt scared and overwhelmed. It could have been the stuff of nightmares, but it was actually the stuff of theological formation.

It put big thoughts in my young mind. It gave me a firm foundation for when I was at university, facing doubts and hard questions like the gleeful public challenge of a philosophy lecturer: “If God made the world good, then where did the snake come from?” It developed my theological muscle, readying it for the tough issues of adulthood. Above all, it taught me to think great thoughts about our great God.

So when I answer my son's question, I tell him how it is. But I also give him the good news. I share the beautiful side of predestination—the wonderful, startling, incredible reality of God's grace given to the undeserving: “Did you know that God decided to love you before he even made the world? Isn't that amazing? Isn't that fantastic?!”

I look at my son and smile to see his smile.

This article appeared at Sola Panel today.

images are from assbach at flickr and from stock.xchng