Parents & Grandparents as Spiritual Guides: Nurturing Children of the Promise

Introduction

For many years the focus of my life and ministry has been children. I have had the joy of rearing my own four children and now am happily participating in the lives of my grandchildren. Beyond this, I have had the great privilege of nurturing children from many walks of life through the ministry of Christian education. My husband and I have also had the unique opportunity of sharing in the lives of the children in The Democratic Republic of Congo, Africa, and among the children of the Navajo people in northern New Mexico. Children, then, have been and continue to be the joy of my life, as I am sure they are for many of you who read this book. Those of us who cherish children see them as bearers of light not only to us but also to the world around them and to the generations to come. They give our lives joy and meaning and, most of all, hope.

Even as I write these positive expressions about children, another part of me is filled with sadness. Scores of children in our midst are living with issues that no child should ever have to face, issues that threaten the very core of their innocence. These include fear, loneliness, neglect, abuse, abandonment, alienation, meaninglessness, and poverty of body and soul.

When I contrast my own relatively simple childhood with that of children today, I realize that today’s world—especially the world of children—has changed dramatically since my early days in a small, rural town. During those days, children were—in part—reared by the whole community who embraced, nurtured, and accepted us. While our parents were the primary caregivers, the community was also deeply involved in the lives of its children. The adults with whom we were associated touched our lives in many ways as they taught us manners, corrected our grammar, instructed us how to live morally, and gave us words of encouragement and praise. They were well acquainted with our parents, and, more often than not, knew our grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins as well!

Adults in those days had no fear of becoming involved in the lives of children. If children dared to disobey the well-defined code of behavior embraced by most of the people in our small town, the person who caught them transgressing reprimanded them. And the saga did not end there! The person who caught them was quick to inform their parents, and they were disciplined again at home. During those days, the inhabitants of any small town took seriously the task of being role model, mentor, and disciplinarian to the children in their midst.

At the same time that adult friends and neighbors were models of moral living and good citizenship, they were also spiritual guides for the children within the community. Persons who may have corrected our behavior during the week were the very same people we observed in our churches week after week. These were the persons we heard pray aloud during worship at church or before meals in the homes of our childhood friends.

For the most part, these were also the adults we observed daily, living out their faith by doing deeds of kindness and helping those in need. It was from these adults, as well as from our parents, that we learned what it meant to be a person of faith. We learned from them as we saw them provide food every day of the year for a young woman stricken with tuberculosis or for some other person in need in our community. We learned as we watched them care for the elderly in our midst, or as they taught our Sunday school classes weekly, or as they organized positive activities for the children of our community.

As children, we knew that these adults lived their faith day by day and we realized that this faith was a way of life for them and that it could be for us. We saw them as positive role models whom we could trust and follow, and we felt loved and cared for and protected by them. This sense of community, this sense of interconnection, gave our lives structure and meaning.

Our parents, then, did not bear the total burden of rearing their children or of nurturing them spiritually. There were always those nearby to help: friends, neighbors, and, more often than not, extended families. The community at-large, and society in general, also projected a positive force of reinforcement for the family and offered support for busy parents.

Today we are increasingly disconnected from one another and especially from the lives of children around us. We are fearful others will misunderstand our intentions toward children or perceive even our best motivations as something inappropriate. Our Let’s just not get involved motto with regard to children creates a tragic break in relationships and diminishes our sense of community. Also, because of our mobile society, families often live hundreds of miles from their nearest relative. Frequently, parents find themselves living among persons who do not know their children and who do not choose to make an effort to get to know them. This, in itself, puts a great burden on parents. The isolation and loneliness that parents experience can be intensely devastating.

As a result, the lack of a community of caring people in the lives of children creates a tremendous crisis in the whole arena of family life. This void produces what authors David Hay and Rebecca Nye (The Spirit of the Child) call a threadbare texture of community, which, in many parts of our society, impoverishes the spirit of numbers of children.

The effect of this loss of relationship is so great that children begin to lose touch with their spirituality.¹ The authors also say that when people lose intimate connections with others, there is a rise of meaninglessness that weakens moral consensus and causes social dislocations and crime.²

The breakdown of morals in our society is a great concern to the Christian community. The reality of evil is ever present, and increasingly we are made aware of crimes being committed in our cities, our small towns, and even in our own neighborhoods and often by persons who show no remorse. We learn of children committing crimes against one another and of being involved with drugs, alcohol, and guns, and we are fearful for our own safety and for the safety of our children. And we see signs of meaninglessness and despair in all levels of society.

Since this book is about children’s spirituality, you might wonder why I am writing about the moral fiber of our country or of the crime and social dislocation that we see about us. The reason is simple. The morality of a society is directly related to the spirituality of the people. Evidence confirms that a person’s spirituality underpins ethical behavior and encourages social cohesion of a society.³ After twenty years of research, Dr. David Hay, former director of the Religious Experience Research Centre in Oxford, England and director of the Children’s Spirituality Project at the University of Nottingham, concludes that his most important single finding is the strong connection between spiritual awareness and ethical behavior. Almost without exception, he says, people link their spiritual or religious experience with a moral imperative.⁴

Hay and others conclude that spirituality has importance in maintaining the moral commonwealth and contributes to the coherence of society as a whole.⁵ Spirituality makes persons look beyond themselves to the well-being of those around them. Their spirituality also makes persons more concerned about social justice and environmental issues.⁶

Amitai Etzioni, an American sociologist, has said that what really matters is that by any measure the readings of social ill health are far too high for a civic society.⁷ He continues with this admonition: The best time to reinforce the moral and social foundations of institutions is not after they have collapsed but when they are cracking.⁸ How we care for the spirituality of our children, then, is not only crucial for their own well-being; it is crucial for the well-being of our society as well.

The focus of this book is to urge parents, grandparents and other responsible adults in the home to reclaim the primary role of spiritual guide of their children in the context of the Christian faith. While it is true that children are born with a spirituality present in their life at birth, that spirituality must be protected, nurtured, and nourished if it is to grow. Just as we care for our children physically, emotionally, and mentally, we must care for them spiritually as well. This primary role cannot, must not, be neglected or relegated to some other person or agency. It is a role that those in the home must assume.

I hope this book will help you as the parent, grandparent, or someone who loves children see that to be the spiritual guide for your child is not an impossible task. You do not have to be a giant in the spiritual life to guide your children along this path; you must, however, be one who is intentionally seeking to go deeper in the life of the spirit. You must be a pilgrim on the journey toward God yourself.

This book provides practical guidelines on how to assume the role of spiritual guide to your child. Although I speak of parents and grandparents in this book, I mean to include anyone who is fulfilling the primary parental role in the child’s life.

Specifically, the second chapter contains suggestions on how parents, grandparents, or others who have the primary care of children can have a more intentional spiritual life themselves. Chapter three gives specific ways that parents can be spiritual guides to their children, and chapter four is devoted to the grandparent’s role as spiritual guide.

At the same time that I urge parents to be the primary spiritual guide for their children, I do not minimize the role of the church in this holy task. Parents must have the strong support, the resourcing and the encouragement of the church in this endeavor. I believe the family and the church should be in a sacred partnership, yoked together in this blessed privilege of providing children the spiritual foundation that they so desperately need. Parents and the community of faith should be devoted partners and allies, standing as a bulwark to protect children from the dangers and pitfalls of the world; standing as a bulwark to train, guide and nurture the spirit of their precious children.

I know that I cannot replicate the small communities of my childhood for those days are gone forever. However, I hope the community of faith can become what our small towns and villages once were: strong advocates for children and faithful partners with those who assume the primary role as spiritual guide. Adults in the community of faith must take seriously the vow that they make at every child’s baptism to help raise that child in the way of Christ. They must reach out in warm hospitality to the children who are found both within and without the walls of the church, embracing them as if they were their own. The threadbare texture of community must be rewoven with the strong threads of love, support, protection and hope for the least of these in our midst. It takes the community of faith and the parent, undergirded by the power of the Holy Spirit, to form a child spiritually. Because our society is very bold about what it teaches our children today, all those who love children and assume responsibility for them have the obligation of being even bolder as we seek to nurture our children in the spiritual life.

If becoming a spiritual guide to your child seems like an overwhelming task to you, just remember that each journey in life begins with the first step. Someone has said that God cannot empower us for a pilgrimage until we say yes. So saying yes to this challenge is the first step. As you make a commitment to becoming a more spiritual person yourself and to being a spiritual guide for the special children in your midst, God’s Holy Spirit will give you the strength and wisdom you need. It is a journey of faith, and you will find that just as you need it, step by step, day by day, and year by year, you will be enabled for the task. May God truly bless you as you embark on this exciting pilgrimage of faith!

Chapter One

The Promise Is for You

Imagine for a moment that you are sitting in a room overlooking a small bay. The cloudless sky is vibrant blue and the scene tranquil and picturesque. Several small boats are in the harbor bobbing around as calmly as if they were toys in a bathtub. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a storm blows in and the boats, which were safe and peaceful a few moments ago, are thrown wildly about. The waves escalate until they are enormous, cascading over the little boats like giant waterfalls. It is evident that the small boats have become aimlessly adrift with little power to manage their own course. There is a question as to whether some of the fragile craft will even survive the storm.

Now turn your attention to a different place. Here you are seated at a window overlooking an exquisitely landscaped garden. In the center of the garden there is a small pond filled with lily pads, and instantly your attention is drawn to the intricate design created by the pads on the surface of the water. The picture is enhanced by colorful groupings of flowers and neatly manicured bushes and trees that surround the pond.

Again, as you are observing this peaceful scene, a storm suddenly arises. The rain falls in torrents and the wind sweeps the bushes and trees from side to side, threatening to uproot them. Finally, after the storm has continued for an hour or more, the rain and the wind subside, and you hurry outside to see what damage has been done to the beautiful garden. You notice that several small trees have, in fact, been uprooted, with leaves and debris scattered about. You anxiously run to the pond to see the damage there, and to your amazement you find that the lily pads maintain the exact design as before! Not one of them has been disturbed.

How can this possibly be, you wonder. It was such a violent storm. You find a stick and begin to poke around in the pond, and finally you think you have found the answer. You discover that the lily pads have an exceptional rootage system that extends deep into the soil below. This causes them to be anchored by a strong unobservable source far beneath the surface of the water. In addition, you find that the roots of each individual lily pad are intricately entwined with the roots of the other lily pads, giving them additional stability. These, then, you surmise, are the two factors that have enabled the lily pads to survive—a deep, secure root system that draws strength from