Showing posts with label Parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Parenting. Show all posts

Satan and Saruman

On the way to church this past Sunday, my wife and children and I fell to talking about a number of theological subjects, one of which was the fact that Jesus is the Dragonslayer, and that this means that the decisive blow against Satan was struck at the cross (Col. 2:15).

I found it difficult to adequately explain to them that Satan was, as we might say, mortally wounded by His battle with Jesus, but still lives today, and is doing as much damage to the Church as he can. One conjures images of, say, a dying bull, still deadly in his wounded thrashings, a peril to the matador even in his death throes.

But my oldest daughter, Grace, came up with an image I like better. By way of preface, I recently finished reading The Lord of the Rings to my two oldest (Grace, 11, and William, 9). They have both become great Tolkien fans as a result, but Grace, in particular, is developing into something of a Middle-Earth scholar.

Her suggestion for understanding the current status of Satan was to compare him to Saruman, the fallen wizard: “his staff was broken, but he still had the power of his voice,” she said.

Saruman was decisively defeated by Gandalf at Orthanc, and cast from the White Council, at which time Gandalf declared, “your staff is broken.” Yet Saruman still had the power of his voice to enchant and deceive; and before the story was over, he would use that power to do great mischief and work much evil.

It is an apt image of Satan, the deceiver, the “father of lies” (John 8:44). Though impaled by Christ, he thrashes about, seeking to strike and maim and kill while he may. And he does this especially by the power of his lying voice, as he tempted Eve in the Garden long ago.

All this is clearly laid out in the Bible, of course:

“Now salvation, and strength, and the kingdom of our God, and the power of His Christ have come, for the accuser of our brethren, who accused them before our God day and night, has been cast down…Woe to the inhabitants of the earth and the sea! For the devil has come down to you, having great wrath, because he knows that he has a short time.” (Rev. 12:10, 12).

Satan is still dangerous, yet it remains true that we are dealing with a defeated enemy. We should never take him lightly; yet we should not live in fear, either. Rather, resistance should be the keynote of our mindset (James 4:7).

When my youngest son, Nathanael, was a baby, I killed a snake outside our home (a bit too near the house for the safety of the children). After I had struck the death blow, the serpent continued to thrash about for some time, as I held Nathanael, now asleep. I was struck by the strange combination of a sleeping baby, and a dying, still dangerous serpent nearby. I don’t often write songs, but this image inspired one of the few. Here are the lyrics for Nathanael’s Lullaby:

Sleep, my child, by light of day;

Your enemy has passed away.

The serpent lies near, clove in twain;

The one who sought you has been slain.


Sleep, my child, in restful peace;

The serpent’s writhing soon shall cease.

His thrashing’s but a last resort,

For now he knows his time is short.



Though moving still, his eyes grow dim—

No longer need for fear of him;

Though mouth is opened, fangs are bared,

You needn’t ever more be scared.



Sleep, my child, by light of day;

Your enemy has passed away.

The serpent lies near, clove in twain;

The one who sought you has been slain.

First Reader Review

The first reader review of The Nicholas Book has been posted on Amazon. Here 'tis: "This book is an amazing and unique telling of the legend of St Nicholas. It weaves together a rich and deep history, a captivating narrative, and a positively magical message. If you've ever wondered how to explain Santa Claus to yourself or your children this book is for you."

You can still get The Nicholas Book for only $0.99 to read to your family. This book was written to be read together as a family: parents and children; and it was written to grow with children as they get older. If I have been at all successful in what I was trying to achieve, kids will get more from the book the older they get, especially if it is read to them each year, which is what the book was designed for. To read more about the book, click here.

So what do you teach your children about Santa Claus? 

Abigail's Birthday




Abigail Christiana is my youngest daughter (unless our unborn child usurps that role), and she is three years old today. God be praised for her: she is a joy to her family. As some of you know, I have been in the habit of writing poems or stories for the kids and my wife on their birthdays. In honor of Abigail, and in thanksgiving to God for my child, I thought I'd post the poem I wrote for Abigail today.


As background, you should know that Abigail, almost from the time she was born, has identified herself as a princess. I even recall one afternoon when she was...ah, when she was...well, receiving the due reward for her misdeeds, shall we say. As the moment of temporal justice neared, she filed various appeals with the Court, all to no avail. And just as she found herself bent over the parental knee, she made one last attempt to escape her fate by saying, "but I'm a princess!"


Needless to say, this last appeal was also denied by the Court, though the Court very much appreciated it on other terms. But it was with such memories as these that I wrote Abigail's birthday poem, which is as follows:


Princess Abigail
By Her Father, on Her Third Birthday
16 August 2011

I sometimes wonder why it is that little girls are all
United in desire to be a princess at a ball?
Why is it, though they disagree on fifty other things,
All see themselves as daughters born of Emperors or Kings?

Now Abigail, my youngest-born, is princess through and through;
And so upon her birthday I have authored this review
Of that which true nobility on noble lives lays claim,
That those who would be princesses may not be put to shame.

A princess, first, is under Law; for Law has given her
The name of "Princess" (which she could not on herself confer);
Thus princesses must early learn to honor and obey
Their Father-Kings and Mother-Queens; renewed in love each day.

A noble princess next must learn the art of sacrifice:
For Love and Truth and Honor all exact a royal price.
A princess endures hardship, loss, and danger valiantly,
And of the treasure of her heart, she gives abundantly.

Her merry heart is quick to laugh, no less in days of want,
When meals are thin, and treasure scarce, and faces pale and gaunt.
A princess scorns the company of fashion-monging boys
(Or girls), and is not much impressed with adolescent toys.

She seeks the friendship of the Wise, to learn their holy ways;
And loves her God above all else; her lips are quick to praise.
A noble daughter; someday, by God's grace, a noble wife;
For Goodness, Truth, and Beauty are the canon of her life.

So Abigail, my princess, learn to love all that is good,
And hate all that is evil, as a noble princess should.
Then, though your father may not be the image of a king,
The praises of his princess he will never cease to sing.


Director’s Commentary

Here’s a dilemma I've pondered quite a bit over the years: should parents just let good books and stories work their magic on kids, without commentary from Mom and Dad? Or should they pepper stories with pearls of parental wisdom? 

Let’s put it in terms many Christian parents will understand: should you point out to your kids that Aslan is really Christ?

There are two schools of thought (and why is it always two? One of Life’s Great Mysteries): first, there’s the Don’t Spoil It By Talking About It school. These folks think that the story can do its work quite well, thank you, without parental involvement. Indeed, if parents point out things about the story that the kids wouldn’t have picked up on themselves, they (the parents) are thereby shredding the story’s effectiveness as a story, turning it into just so many disconnected proverbs. 

Doing so, they believe, is really despising the story itself - using the story, if you will, as a mere pulpit from which to preach to kids. Is preaching bad, then, some will reply? No, say the Don’t Spoil It crowd, but there’s a time and place for everything. And if you turn a story into nothing more than a setting for your moralisms, you have (1) guaranteed that the power of the story to affect the minds and hearts of your children is almost completely destroyed, and (2) turned the story into little more than propaganda. 

For some reason, I’ve heard these folks at their most vocal when it comes to the aforementioned Aslan, and The Chronicles of Narnia. There is a cottage industry of books written to explain the Christian meaning of the Narnian tales (I myself have written one of them). The Don’t Spoil It folks think it almost abhorrent that a parent would actually tell their kids who Aslan is (though it’s worth remembering that Lewis himself said that kids almost always figure it out quickly; adults, almost never).

Then there is what we might call the Never Miss a Teachable Moment school. Such parents think that a story (be it movie, book, poem, audio drama, or whatever) must always teach virtue and morality to kids; some would say that’s their only real value. And if we fail to draw out these lessons from every tale, we have, by our silence, turned the story into mere entertainment. On this view, it is the duty of parents to serve as Interpreters of the Story.

Both school have their strong points: the Don’t Spoil it parent is certainly right that there is a peculiar power that stories have to shape our loves and loyalties, quite apart (or at least distinct) from the explicit moral lessons that may be there. And I do think it is possible to overdo the teaching: if you find yourself stopping every couple of paragraphs to say, “now, kids, what this means is…”), then you are probably destroying the enchantment of the story, the ability of children to enter into the Story-world. Imagine Cecil B. DeMille popping out from behind the curtain every ten minutes of The Ten Commandments (instead of just at the beginning) to explain what just happened. Or imagine watching every movie with the Director’s Commentary running. 

But it’s also true (as the Teachable Moment folks correctly point out) that parents have a real responsibility to teach their children, and there are many lessons in stories that can help children learn how they ought to act or react in various situations. The wise parent will insist that children not miss these lessons (more on this anon).

But both Schools can also go to seed, of course. Don’t Spoil It parents can end up being the type that never discuss anything with their kids (“can’t we just enjoy the movie without turning Family Night into Philosophy Class?”). These are the families who utter that unspeakable heresy, “it’s just a story.” Oh, no it’s not. It may be many things. But it’s never “just” a story. 

On the other hand, the Teachable Moment Dad can easily turn into QWERTY from Veggie Tales, spitting out context-less Bible verses while Mom sings, “And so what we have learned applies to our lives today…” Bleh. Or like Chris, that perky host of Adventures in Odyssey, who always comes along at the end of a story to share a relevant Bible passage and encourage kids to learn the appropriate lesson from the episode. I love Odyssey, but I can’t help feeling that the show would be better off without the Max Lucado-type Life Lessons at the end.

What to do, then? Perhaps I’m tipping my hand, but I’m going to attempt to settle this dispute by…quoting a Bible passage. Remember when David sinned with Bathsheba and then had her husband killed? Nathan the prophet later comes to David, with the explicit purpose of what we may describe as Teaching David a Lesson. He comes, in fact, to drive David to repentance over a very specific moral problem. And how does he do it? He tells him a story:

There were two men in one city; the one rich, and the other poor. The rich man had exceeding many flocks and herds: But the poor man had nothing, save one little ewe lamb, which he had bought and nourished up: and it grew up together with him, and with his children; it did eat of his own meat, and drank of his own cup, and lay in his bosom, and was unto him as a daughter. And there came a traveller unto the rich man, and he spared to take of his own flock and of his own herd, to dress for the wayfaring man that was come unto him; but took the poor man's lamb, and dressed it for the man that was come to him. (II Sam. 12:1 – 4)


Now, first of all: does the story, as a story, have the desired effect, without Nathan having to say, “In today’s story, we learned…”)? I think we can say, “yes.” As proof, consider David’s reaction:


And David's anger was greatly kindled against the man; and he said to Nathan, As the LORD liveth, the man that hath done this thing shall surely die: And he shall restore the lamb fourfold, because he did this thing, and because he had no pity. (v. 5 – 6)


Here we see clearly the power of Story to move and change us. And yet…it is just at this point that Nathan steps in with the Director’s Commentary:


And Nathan said to David, Thou art the man. (v. 7)


Then he goes on for the next six verses (so much for QWERTY’S aversion to anything longer than a verse or so) describing exactly how David was the rich man who stole the poor man’s lamb.


Should he have left David to figure it out? Or was there something much more powerful in his, “Thou art the man”? Here, both elements have their place: the power of Story, and the duty of fatherly instruction and interpretation. As parents, we must not miss this critical point: there will be times when, having read the story of traitorous Edmund, or arrogant Eustace, or bratty Rosamond (from George MacDonald’s The Wise Woman), we must turn to our child and say, in effect, “Thou art the kid.”

I think it’s all in how we provide such commentary, not whether it’s okay to do it or not: I agree with the Teachable Moment parents that we have a duty to serve as Interpreters of Stories and Teachers of Moral Philosophy. It is also true that silence on our part is really little better than abdication to the story’s author, whose ideas and worldview will therefore rule the day by default, whether they ought to or not (for the author is certainly doing his share of teaching).

To the extent that the Don’t Spoil It parents subscribe to the idea that “kids should be left to form their own ideas,” Christians should of course reject them utterly. Parents are required by God to teach and instruct (and truly they do teach, whether they intend to or not); they are, in this sense, the “directors” of their children’s theological and moral education. Combine that with the fact that kids are going to ask questions, anyway, and we are left with the inevitability of the Director’s Commentary. But perhaps we should remember that, while watching our DVDs and Blu-Rays, we normally turn on The Director’s Commentary the second time through. 

The Key, The Captain, and the Corsair


Here's a story I wrote for William last year, when he turned six. Again, the idea here is to cast your children as the heroes in stories, teaching them what goodness, nobility, courage, and so on, really look like. Love to hear any comments or thoughts on this or the other postings this week.

The Key, The Captain, and The Corsair

William Chad Newsom

Written for my son, William Alfred Alexander Newsom,
on the Occasion of His Sixth Birthday


This is a story that happened when our hero, William, was eight years old. William and his family had taken their vacation that year in the tiny port-town of Trelawney on the North Carolina Coast. Along with the usual beach activities, they were set to visit the Old Pirate Ship, which had been turned into a museum many years before. So William and his parents, his brother and two sisters, along with a camera or two, headed off that Friday morning to visit the Ship.

The Ship was called The Corsair, which as you may know, can mean either ‘pirate,’ or ‘privateer,’ and she was a captured, second-rate “man of war” ship with 90 guns. William loved her at once and couldn’t wait to get onboard.

Just beside the plank walkway that led to the ship, they met the Docent, or tour-guide, who was to take them through to see the sights. His name was James Benbow and he was a kindly, white-haired man of about sixty years of age, dressed in eighteenth-century sailor clothes. He smiled as he greeted them and took them aboard.

As they went along, he told them stories of the ship. The Corsair had been commanded by the famous pirate, Captain Jonas Flintlock (a well-known though underappreciated figure, in the Docent’s view). ‘‘Used to be a preacher in his young days, if you’ll believe me,’ he told them. ‘But God called him to take the good word to the Chinese, and he wouldn’t have anything to do with them at any price, no one knows why. The Captain was a most gentlemanly pirate, kind and considerate, even to those he plundered, though he could be fearsome enough in battle. Indeed, he often pretended to be a privateer, on the lookout for enemy ships, sailing for the King of England. Before we begin, let me also tell you something that you may or may not know. Today marks the two hundred and eleventh anniversary of the capture of The Corsair and the death of Captain Flintlock. Now, ladies and gentleman, we will begin our tour of the ship. And when we get back outside, I’ll have a question to ask you about Captain Flintlock, and if anyone answers it right, they’ll be awarded a very special prize.’

Another Birthday Poem


Continuing with posting things I've written for William (whose birthday was yesterday, you'll recall), here's a poem I wrote for William two years ago, when he turned five. His mother put on a "Robin Hood" themed birthday party for him; thus the subject matter of this poem. If you read yesterday's poem, you will note, after reading this one, a theme of nobility running through them. My heart's desire is that my children will be noble - by which I mean godly, Christlike, honorable, chivalrous, brave - now, not just when they grow up. It seems we always expect kids to be bad, but hope they'll grow up to be good. Then we're surprised when they don't.

I am nowhere near the father I want to be; I am merely sharing my desires, the things I am aiming for. And what I aim for is children who, young though they be, can withstand such pressures and temptations as their tender ages may encounter. That they will not be deceived by the same foolish lies that other children their age believe; that they will not be enamored of the same pathetic music and pop stars of their peers; that they will be repulsed by the same evils that attract many children of our culture. That they will love with fierce loyalty all that is good, true, and beautiful; and, of necessity, that they will hate all that is evil, false, and ugly. That is the motivation behind my writing for them. In this poem, I hope to provide another hero to inspire William's loyalty: Robin Hood, defender of the weak, loyal to the true king, enemy of the tyrant. These things I want and expect and look for in my children, even now, in their childhood. May God in His kindness grant these things to my family and to yours.

William Hood
A Poem For William on His Fifth Birthday


His King’s away, or so they say,
Yet I am not so sure…
That knight in black—is Richard back
From yon Crusading tour?

But since he left the throne bereft
Of lawful king and lord,
His brother John has set upon
The land with tax and sword.

Now Robin Hood, in green Sherwood,
Has taken vows to save
All poor and cursed—but fight and worst
The tyrant and the knave.

The Church—God’s Truth! he loves, forsooth,
As Friar Tuck has said
(Shalt bid that priest hold rite and feast
His Marian to wed!).

No more depart, great Lion-heart—
Return and hear us sing
Of one so good, our Robin Hood,
So loyal to his King.
 
***

Your King’s away, or so some say,
But don’t you be so sure!
Do you be good, my William Hood,
Be holy, brave, and pure.

Defend the weak, God’s blessing seek,
And knightly honour win;
Give every breath to fight to death
The tyrannies of sin.

In honour, dare, for Lady Fair,
And never trust to luck;
Your Marian you’ll marry in
The church of Friar Tuck!

With horn and drum, that Day will come—
Your King will reappear
To smite the foe, and overthrow
The overlords of fear.

Be valiant, son, till all is done,
Keep close your bow of wood;
An outlaw in this world of sin,
My noble William Hood.

By Alan-a-Dad

William's Birthday Poem


Today is the seventh birthday of my oldest son, William Alfred Alexander Newsom. Some years back I began a tradition of writing either a poem, song, or story for my wife and children on their birthdays. Throughout this week, I’ll be posting such poems and stories written for William (and maybe for some of the others). We’ll begin with this one, written for William’s seventh birthday today. This one is also for Nathanael, my younger son, who turned four on May 3. We’re doing combined birthday parties: one each year for the girls, one for the boys. So this year I combined Nathanael’s and William’s poems into one for the brothers.

As a side note, I encourage parents (especially Dads) to do something like this. You don’t have to be a great poet (if you read any poetry, you will quickly see that I am not) or storyteller. But just do this: write a simple story, whether in verse or prose, with one or more of your children as the protagonist (hero). Put them in situations in which they must choose to be noble in the face of temptations to do otherwise. You would be surprised how even the simplest tales take on new meaning to your children when they begin to see themselves as characters in the story. This is an important way to build a storytelling culture in your home, and, by doing so, to build character in the lives of your children. In a story-shaped home, the virtues, the fruits of the Spirit that you wish to see them develop will begin to seep into their bones. They will know them: not just the rote knowledge of memorization (important though that is), but a knowledge that is woven into their very souls.

Anyway, happy birthday to my son, William, who is growing into the noble boy I have always dreamed about.

Band of Brothers
A Poem for Nathanael, on the Occasion of His Fourth Birthday (May 3, 2010); and William, on the Occasion of his Seventh Birthday (July 19, 2010)

Given With Love, By Your Father

Nathanael:
Well, here we are, just me and you,
There’s only two of us.
We boys, I mean: there’s only two;
Two brothers: we are small and few;
Whatever can we hope to do?

William:
Now, don’t despair, don’t fuss!

It’s true that we’re not army-size:
We can’t besiege a town.
But like the knight who charges, dies,
With noble luster in his eyes,
That gold and silver never buys;
And takes the foeman down.

So you and I are richly blessed
With courage from our Lord;
I’ve seen you, brother, sorely pressed,
Yet rise with valor, meet the test;
And you and I shall meet this Quest,
Come fire, death, or sword.

Nathanael:
Thanks, brother; now I’m set to try
To take the heights above;
For just two brothers—you and I—
By God’s dear grace may crack the sky;
We may not win but we can die,
To save that which we love.

As Jonathan and his servant went
Against a mighty crew;
So now two brothers have been sent,
To force the wicked to relent;
‘Til all heart-treasures have been spent;
And hearts are piercéd through.

William:
Well said, my brother! Now look to
The sword of steel you wear;
Whatever can we hope to do?

Nathanael:
Nay, here were are, we happy few:
A band of brothers, small, but true;
A noble cross to bear.

Narrator:
Then bursting through the door to Hell,
Where Sorcery held sway,
Two brothers with a mighty yell,
Sent serpents spinning, beasts pell-mell;
And drave the Devil, tales do tell,
And nobly won the day.

Thus set they free their sisters twain,
Who, captured in the wood,
Refused the wizard’s cup to drain;
To keep their hearts from every stain;
And were enchanted for their pain,
For clinging to the Good.

And now the four walked hand in hand,
Walked in the dying gloam;
And knew not all that yet was planned:
Of twinkling stars and grains of sand;
That more would join their little band,
To grace their little home.

Something I Need to Remember Every Day

This brief scene recently unfolded with my four-year old, Nathanael, who came to me with his arms raised, wanting to be picked up:

NATHANAEL: Daddy, I need you.

ME (after picking him up): What do you need, son?

NATHANAEL: Just you.

Children Who Love the Standard

What is the practical goal of parental discipline? Obviously, the Christian goal is children who love God, and live holy lives. But we set up a Standard of expected behavior for our kids: with respect to that Standard, what is our goal? Here’s the best answer I’ve heard:

“The goal is not to get children to conform to the standard: the goal is to get children to love the standard.”

Thus Doug Wilson, in more than one place, I believe (don’t have the source at hand). And I agree wholeheartedly. We want our children to love the Standard of goodness, truth, and beauty we set before them. When they do, we know we truly have their hearts. We know they are not just outwardly conforming, but inwardly seething (“just wait until I’m old enough to blow this place!”). It’s fairly easy to get kids to outwardly obey. It’s much harder to get them to love obedience, to love being good, for its own sake. The question of course is, “how do we accomplish this noble task?”

I wrestled long with this, agreeing with the principle, but somewhat uncertain how to put it into practice. Here then are some beginning thoughts towards this end.