My wife and I are the parents of three young children. Almost every evening, we all sit down at our table to eat supper together. Making this effort says something about who we are. In addition, my wife and I are both parish pastors. And our children detest the prayer before our meal.
No, gentle reader, “detest” is not too strong a word. Either my wife or I will begin to pray and, immediately, there are three simultaneous howls of protest. The cacophony of shrieks only increases in both volume and intensity until she or I mutter an exasperated Amen.
Yes, I’ve tried involving the kids in the prayer. Yes, I’ve tried coaxing and commanding and ignoring and shushing and threatening and reasoning and – Sweet Jesus – praying that our beloved offspring will just let me offer thanks to their Ever-Loving Creator. All to no avail.
But I think the Merciful One, blessed be the Name, must be getting a delightful kick out of this nightly scenario. Does that sound blasphemous? The Almighty chuckling at these three double-preacher-kids giving their parents holy hell just for trying to instill a bit of piety?
Well, full confession: I too am a pastor’s kid. I know, personally, that your typical PK takes a certain satisfaction from railing against organized religion and its sacred cows. And that’s OK. The Infinite Incomprehensibility is certainly vast enough to handle any shenanigans in stride.
Honestly, I’d be more concerned if my kids were pious angels, hands clasped and heads bowed before every meal. I’d worry they were putting on a show for my sake. The other night after dinner, when his little brother and sister had already scampered away from the table, our first-grader informed me, “Dad, I’m the best in my class at being good.” He had the glint of self-satisfaction in his eyes. I relayed this information to a lifelong educator who chuckled, “He’s figured out how to work the system.”
To be clear, I’m not suggesting that children shouldn’t be taught to pray. Or that respectful behavior – whether in the classroom, home or house of worship – is unimportant.
But who are we, honestly? Deep down, there is a fundamental uniqueness to each and every individual. We are “fearfully and wonderfully made” as Psalm 139 puts it. So, I want to give my kids the freedom to push the boundaries and color outside the lines from time to time. That’s how they’ll show their true colors. And that’s also a way to pray. To come to the table as we are: “a child of God, forgiven, loved and free” (so says Brian Wren).
