23. Religious Training
Back to Gentle Child Training
It has been my aim in this volume to avoid, as far as possible, all topics involving controversy—and only to present such truths, and to elucidate such principles, as can be easily made to commend themselves to the good sense and the favorable appreciation of all the classes of minds likely to be found among the readers of the work. There are certain very important aspects of religious training, which may be presented, I think, without any serious deviation from this policy.
'In what True Piety consists'.
Indeed—I think there is far more real, than seeming agreement among parents in respect to this subject; or rather a large portion of the apparent difference consists in different modes of expressing in words thoughts and conceptions connected with spiritual things, which none of them, from their very nature—be adequately expressed in language at all. And thus it happens that what are substantially the same ideas are customarily clothed by different classes of people in very different phraseology; while, on the other hand, the same set of phrases actually represent in different minds very different sets of ideas.
For instance, there is perhaps universal agreement in the idea that some kind of change—a change, too, of a very important character—is implied in the implanting or developing of the spirit of piety in the heart of a child. There is also universal agreement in the fact—often very emphatically asserted in the New Testament—that the essential principles in which true piety consists are those of entire submission in all things to the will of God—and cordial kind feeling towards every man. There is endless disagreement—and much earnest contention among different denominations of Christians, in respect to the means by which the implanting of these principles is to be secured—and to the modes in which, when implanted, they will manifest themselves. But there is not, so far as would appear, any dissent whatever anywhere from the opinion that the end to be aimed at is the implanting of these principles—that is that it consists in bringing the heart to a state of complete and cordial submission to the authority and to the will of God—and to a sincere regard for the welfare and happiness of every human being.
'A Question of Words'
There seems, at first view, to be a special difference of opinion in respect to the nature of the process by which these principles come to be implanted or developed in the minds of the young; for all must admit that in early infancy they are not there, or, at least, that they do not appear.
No one would expect to find in two infants—twin-brothers, we will suppose—creeping on the floor, with one apple between them, that there could be, at that age, any principles of right or justice, or of brotherly love existing in their hearts, that could prevent their both crying and quarreling for it. "True," says one; "but there are germs of those principles which, in time, will be developed." "No," rejoins another," there are no 'germs' of them, there are only 'capacities' for them, through which, by Divine power, the germs may hereafter be introduced." But when we reflect upon the difficulty of forming any clear and practical idea of the difference between a 'germ'—in a bud upon an apple-tree, for instance—which may ultimately produce fruit—and a 'capacity' for producing it which may subsequently be developed—and still more, how difficult is it to picture to our minds what is represented by these words in the case of a human soul—it would seem as if the apparent difference in people's opinions on such a point must be less a difference in respect to facts, than in respect to the phraseology by which the facts should be represented.
And there would seem to be confirmation of this view in the fact that the great apparent difference among men in regard to their theoretical views of human nature—does not seem to produce any marked difference in their action in practically dealing with it. Some parents, it is true, habitually treat their children with gentleness, kindness and love; others are harsh and severe in all their interactions with their children. But we would find, on investigation, that such differences have very slight connection with the theoretical views of the nature of the human soul, which the parents respectively entertain. Parents who in their theories seem to think the worst of the native tendencies of the human heart, are often as kind and considerate and loving in their dealings with it as any. While no one would be at all surprised to find another, who is very firm in his belief in the native tendency of childhood to good, showing himself, in practically dealing with the actual conduct of children—to be fretful, impatient, complaining—and very ready to recognize, in fact, tendencies which in theory he seems to deny.
And so, two bank directors—or members of the board of management of any industrial undertaking, when they meet in the street on Sunday, in returning from their respective places of public worship, if they fall into conversation on the moral nature of man, may find, or think they find, that they differ extremely in their views—and may even think each other bigoted or heretical, as the case may be; but yet the next day, when they meet at a session of their board—and come to the work of actually dealing with the conduct and the motives of men, they may find that there is 'practically' no difference between them whatever. Or, if there should be any difference, such as would show itself in a greater readiness in one than in the other to place confidence in the promises or to confide in the integrity of men—the difference would, in general, have no perceptible relation whatever to the difference in the theological phraseology which they have been accustomed to hear and to assent to in their respective churches. All which seems to indicate, as has already been said—that the difference in question is rather apparent than real—and that it implies less actual disagreement about the facts of human nature, than diversity in the phraseology by which the facts are represented.
'Agency of the Divine Spirit'.
It may, however, be said that in this respect, if not in any other, there is a radical difference among parents in respect to human nature, in relation to the religious education of children—namely, that some think that the implanting of the right principles of repentance for all wrong-doing—and sincere desires for the future to conform in all things to the will of God—and seek the happiness and welfare of men, cannot come except by a special act of Divine intervention—and is utterly beyond the reach—in respect to any actual efficiency—of all human instrumentalities. This is no doubt true; but it is also no less true in respect to all the powers and capacities of the human soul, as well as to those pertaining to moral and religious duty. If the soul itself is the product of the creative agency of God—'all' its powers and faculties must be so—and, consequently, the development of them all—and there certainly can be no reason for making the sentiment of true and genuine piety an exception—must be the work of the same creative power.
But someone may say. There is, however, after all, a difference; for while we all admit that both the original entrance of the embryo soul into existence—and every step of its subsequent progress and development, including the coming into being and into action of all its various faculties and powers, are the work of the Supreme creative power—the commencement of the divine life in the soul is, in a 'special and peculiar sense', the work of the Divine hand.
And this also is doubtless true; at least, there is a certain important truth expressed in that statement. And yet when we attempt to picture to our minds two modes of Divine action, one of which is special and peculiar—and the other is not so, we are very likely to find ourselves bewildered and confused—and we soon perceive that in making such inquiries we are going out of our depth—or, in other words, are attempting to pass beyond the limits which mark the present boundaries of human knowledge.
In view of these thoughts and suggestions, in the truth of which it would seem that all reasonable people must concur, we may reasonably conclude that all parents who are willing to look simply at the facts—and who are not too much confined by the forms of phraseology to which they are accustomed, must agree in admitting the substantial soundness of the following principles relating to the religious education of children.
'Order of Development in respect to different Propensities and Powers'.
1. We must not expect any perceptible awakening of the moral and pious sentiments too soon—nor feel discouraged and disheartened because they do not earlier appear; for, like all the other higher attributes of the soul, pious sentiments pertain to a portion of the mental structure, which is not early developed. It is the group of purely animal propensities, which first show themselves in the young—and those even, as we see in the young of the lower animals, generally appear somewhat in the order in which they are required for the individual's good.
Birds just hatched from the egg seem to have, for the first few days, only one instinct ready for action—that of opening their mouths wide at the approach of anything towards their nest. Even this instinct is so imperfect and immature that it cannot distinguish between the coming of their mother and the appearance of the face of a boy peering down upon them, or even the rustling of the leaves around them by a stick. In process of time, as their wings become formed, another instinct begins to appear—that of desiring to use the wings and come forth into the air. The development of this instinct and the growth of the wings advance together. Later still, when the proper period of maturity arrives, other instincts appear as they are required—such as the love of a mate, the desire to construct a nest—and the principle of maternal affection.
Now there is something analogous to this in the order of development to be observed in the progress of the human being through the period of infancy to that of maturity—and we must not look for the development of any power or susceptibility before its time—nor be too much troubled if we find that, in the first two or three years of life, the animal propensities—which are more advanced in respect to the organization which they depend upon—seem sometimes to overpower the higher sentiments and principles, which, so far as the capacity for them exists at all, must be yet in embryo. We must be willing to wait for each to be developed in its own appointed time.
'Dependence upon Divine Aid'.
2. Anyone who is ready to feel and to acknowledge his dependence upon Divine aid for anything whatever in the growth and preservation of his child, will surely be ready to do so in respect to the work of developing or awakening in his heart the principles of piety—since it must be admitted by all that the human soul is the highest of all the manifestations of Divine power—and that that portion of its structure on which the existence and exercise of the moral and pious sentiments depend, is the crowning glory of it. It is right, therefore, that if the parent feels and acknowledges his dependence upon Divine power in anything, he should specially feel and acknowledge it here; while there is nothing so well adapted as a deep sense of this dependence—and a devout and habitual recognition of it—and reliance upon it—to give earnestness and efficiency to his efforts, and to furnish a solid ground of hope that they will be crowded with success.
'The Christian Paradox'.
3. The great principle so plainly taught in the Sacred Scriptures—namely, that while we depend upon the exercise of Divine power for the success of all our efforts for our own spiritual improvement or that of others, just as if we could do nothing ourselves—that we must do everything that is possible ourselves, just us if nothing was to be expected from Divine power. This may be called the Christian paradox. "Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling—for it is God who works in you both to will and to do." It would seem, it might be thought, much more logical to say, "Work out your own salvation—for there is nobody to help you." Or, "It is not necessary to make any effort yourselves—for it is God that works in you." It seems strange and paradoxical to say, "Work out your own salvation, for it is God who works in you both to will and to do."
But in this, as in all other paradoxes, the difficulty is in the explanation of the theory—and not in the practical working of it.
The Christian paradox gives rise to a great deal of metaphysical floundering and bewilderment among young theologians in their attempts to vindicate and explain it—but the humble-minded Christian parent finds no difficulty in practice. It comes very easy to him to do all he can, just as if everything depended upon his efforts—and at the same time to cast all his care upon God, just as if there was nothing at all that he himself could do.
'Means must be Right Means'.
4. We are apt to imagine—or, at least, to act sometimes, as if we imagined—that our dependence upon the Divine aid for what our Savior, Jesus, designated as the new birth, makes some difference in the obligation on our part to employ such means as are naturally adapted to the end in view. If a gardener, for example, were to pour sand from his watering-pot upon his flowers, in time of drought, instead of water, he might make something like a plausible defense of his action, in reply to a remonstrance, thus: "I have no power to make the flowers grow and bloom. The secret processes on which the successful result depends are altogether beyond my reach—and in the hands of God—and he can just as easily bless one kind of instrumentality as another. I am bound to do something, it is true, for I must not be idle and inert; but God, if he chooses to do so, can easily bring out the flowers into beauty and bloom, however imperfect and ill-adapted the instrumentalities I use may be. He can as easily make use, for this purpose, of sand as of water."
Now, although there may be a certain plausibility in this reasoning, such conduct would appear to everyone totally absurd; and yet many parents seem to act on a similar principle. A mother who is from time to time, during the week, fretful and impatient, evincing no sincere and hearty consideration for the feelings, still less for the substantial welfare and happiness, of those dependent upon her; who shows her lack of submission to the will of God, by complaints and repinings at anything disturbing which befalls her; and who evinces a selfish love for her own gratification—her dresses, her personal pleasures, and her fashionable standing; and then, as a means of securing the salvation of her children, is very strict, when Sunday comes, in enforcing upon them the study of their Sunday lessons, or in requiring them to read good books, or in repressing on that day any undue exuberance of their spirits—relying upon the blessing of God upon her endeavors—will be very apt to find, in the end, that she has been watering her delicate flowers with sand!
The means which we use to awaken or impart the feelings of sorrow for sin, submission to God, and cordial good-will to man—in which all true piety consists—must be means that are 'appropriate in themselves' to the accomplishment of the end intended. The means must be water—and not sand—applied with judgment, discrimination, and tact. The principle is—that the means must be an appropriate one—that is, one indicated by a wise consideration of the circumstances of the case—and of the natural characteristics of the childish mind.
'Power of Sympathy'.
5. In respect to pious influence over the minds of children, as in all other departments of early training, the tendency to sympathetic action between the heart of the child and the parent is the great source of the parental influence and power. The principle, "Make a young person love you—and then simply 'be' in his presence what you wish him to be," is the secret of success.
The tendency of young children to become what they see those around them whom they love are, seems to be altogether the most universally acting and the most powerful of the influences on which the formation of the character depends; and yet it is remarkable that we have no really appropriate name for it. We call it sometimes sympathy; but the word sympathy is associated more frequently in our minds with the idea of compassionate participation in the sufferings of those we love. Sometimes we term it a spirit of imitation—but that phrase implies rather a conscious effort to 'act' like those whom we love, than that involuntary tendency to 'become' like them—which is the real character of the principle in question. We mean a willing, spontaneous and even unconscious tendency to 'become what those around us are'. This tendency is very strong in the young while the opening faculties are in the course of formation and development—and it is immensely strengthened by the influence of love. Whatever, therefore, a mother wishes her child to be—whether a sincere, honest Christian, submissive to God's will and conscientious in the discharge of every duty—or proud, vain, deceitful, hypocritical, and pharisaical—she has only to be either the one or the other herself—and without any special teaching—her child will be pretty sure to be a good copy of the model.
'Theological Instruction.'
6. If the principle above stated is correct—it helps to explain why so little good effect is ordinarily produced by what may be called instruction in theological truth on the minds of the young. Any system of theological truth, consists of grand generalizations, which, like all other generalizations, are very interesting—and often very profitable, to mature minds, especially to minds of a certain class. But they are not appreciable by children—and can only in general be received by them as words to be fixed in the memory by rote. Particulars first, generalizations afterwards, is, or ought to be, the order of progress in all acquisition of knowledge.
This certainly has been the course pursued by the Divine Spirit in the moral training of the human race. There is very little systematic theology in the Old Testament—and it requires a considerable degree of ingenuity— to see as much doctrine as the theologians desire to find even in the teachings of Jesus Christ. It is very well to exercise this ingenuity, and the systematic results which are to be obtained by it may be very interesting, and very beneficial—to those whose minds are mature enough to enter into and appreciate them. But they are not adapted to the spiritual needs of children—and can only be received by them, if they are received at all—in a dry, formal, mechanical manner.
Read, therefore, the stories in the Old Testament, or the parables and discourses of Jesus in the New Testament, without attempting to draw many inferences from them in the way of theoretical belief—but simply to bring out to the mind and heart of the child the moral point intended in each particular case—and the heart of the child will be touched—and he will receive an 'element' of instruction which he can arrange and group with others in theological generalization by-and-by, when his faculties have advanced to the generalizing stage.
'No repulsive personal applications'.
7. In reading the Scriptures—and, indeed, in all forms of giving religious counsel or instruction, we must generally beware of presenting the thoughts that we communicate in the form of reproachful personal application. There may be exceptions to this rule—but it is undoubtedly, in general, a sound one. For the work which we have to do, is not to attempt todrive the heart from the wrong to the right, by any repellent action which the wrong may be made to exert—but to allure it by an attractive action with which the right may be invested. We must, therefore, present the incidents and instructions of the Word in their alluring aspect—assuming, in a great measure, that our little pupil will feel pleasure with us in the manifestations of the right—and will sympathize with us in disapproval of the wrong. To secure them to our side, in the views which we take, we must show a disposition to 'take' them to it by an affectionate sympathy.
Our Savior set us an excellent example of relying on the superior efficiency of the bond of sympathy and love in its power over the hearts of children, as compared with that of formal theological instruction, in the few glimpses which we have of his mode of dealing with them. When they brought little children to him, he did not begin to expound to them the principles of the government of God, or the theoretical aspects of the way of salvation; but took them 'up in his arms and blessed them'—and called the attention of the bystanders at the same time to qualities and characteristics which they possessed, which he seemed to regard with special affection—and which others must imitate to be fit for the kingdom of God. Of course the children went away pleased and happy from such an interview—and would be made ready by it to receive gladly to their hearts any truths or sentiments which they might subsequently hear attributed to one who was so kind a friend to them.
If, however, instead of this, he had told them—no matter in what kind and gentle tones—that they had very wicked hearts, which must be changed before either God or any good man could truly love them—and that this change could only be produced by a power which they could only understand to be one external to themselves—and that they must earnestly pray for it every day—how different would have been the effect! They would have listened in mute distress, would have been glad to make their escape when the conversation was ended—and would shrink from ever seeing or hearing again one who placed himself in an attitude so uncongenial to them.
They might have had yet only such appetites and propensities developed within them as would, if these thoughts continued to hold paramount control over them all their lives—make them selfish, unfeeling and wicked men; and that they were, in a special though mysterious manner, dependent on the Divine power for bringing into action within them other and nobler principles.
And so, if a physician were called in to see a sick child, he might see that it was in desperate danger—and that unless something could be done—and that speedily, to arrest the disease, his little patient would be dead in a few hours. And yet to overwhelm that poor child with terror and distress, would not be a very suitable course of procedure for averting the apprehended result.
'Promised Rewards and threatened Punishments'.
8. It is necessary to be extremely moderate and cautious in employing the influence of promised rewards or threatened punishments, as a means of promoting early piety. In a religious point of view, as in every other, goodness that is bought is only a pretense of goodness—is, in reality—no goodness at all. And as it is true that love casts out fear, so it is also true that fear casts out love.
Suppose, though it is almost too violent a supposition to be made even for illustration's sake—that the whole Christian world could be suddenly led to believe that there was to be no happiness or suffering at all for them beyond the grave—and that the inducement to be grateful to God for his goodness and submissive to his will—and to be warmly interested in the welfare and happiness of man—were henceforth to rest on the intrinsic excellence of those principles—and to their constituting essentially the highest and noblest development of the moral and spiritual nature of man. In such a case, how many of the professed disciples of Jesus would abandon their present devotion to the cause of love to God and love to man? Not one—except the hypocrites and pretenders!
The truth is, that as piety which is genuine and sincere must rest on very different foundations, from hope of future reward or fear of future punishment; so this hope and this fear are very unsuitable instrumentalities to be relied on for awakening it. The kind of gratitude to God which we wish to cherish in the mind of a child is not such as would be awakened towards an earthly benefactor by saying—in the case of a present made by an uncle, for instance—"Your uncle has made you a beautiful present. Go and thank him very cordially—and perhaps you will get another." It is rather of a kind which might be induced by saying, "Your uncle, who has been so kind to you in past years, is poor and sick—and can never do anything more for you now. Would you like to go and sit in his sick-room to show your love for him—and to be ready to help him if he needs anything?"
True piety, in a word, which consists in entering into and steadily maintaining the right moral and spiritual relations with God and man—marks the highest condition which the possibilities of human nature allow—and must rest in the soul which attains to it on a very different foundation from anything like hope or fear. That there is a function which it is the province of hope or fear to fulfill, is abundantly proved by the use that is sometimes made of them in the Scriptures. But the more we reflect upon the subject, the more we shall be convinced, I think, that all such considerations ought to be kept very much in the back-ground in our dealings with children.
If a child is sick—and is even likely to die, it is a very serious question whether any warning given to him of his danger will not operate as a hindrance rather than a help, in awakening those feelings which will constitute the best state of preparation for the change. For a sense of gratitude to God for his goodness—and to the Savior for the sacrifice which he made for his sake, penitence for his sins, and trust in the forgiving mercy of his Maker—are the feelings to be awakened in his bosom; and these, so far as they exist, will lead him to lie quietly, calmly and submissively in God's hands, without anxiety in respect to what is before him. It is a serious question whether an entire uncertainty as to the time when his death is to come, is not more favorable to the awakening of these feelings, than the state of alarm and distress which would be excited, by the thought that it was near.
'The Reasonableness of Gentle Measures in Religious Training'.
The mother may sometimes derive from certain religious considerations, the idea that she is bound to look upon the moral delinquencies and dangers which she observes in her children, under an aspect more stern and severe, than seems to be recommended here in this book. But a little reflection must convince us, that the way to true repentance of, and turning from sin—is not necessarily through the suffering of terror and distress. The Gospel is not an instrumentality for producing terror and distress, even as means to an end. It is an instrumentality for saving us from these ills; and the Divine Spirit, in the hidden and mysterious influence which it exercises in forming, or transforming, the human soul into the image of God—must be as ready, it would seem, to sanction and bless efforts made by a mother to allure her child away from its sins, by loving and gentle invitations and encouragements—as any attempts to drive her from them, by the agency of terror or pain. It would seem that no one who remembers the way in which Jesus Christ dealt with the children who were brought to him could possibly have any doubt of this.
Back to Gentle Child Training