Spiritual Motivation

My son came home today and told me that he had done something wrong. The Rationalist has a very sensitive conscience, so this is nothing new. He frequently thinks he has done something wrong and will self-enforce his own confession and punishment. I actually spend a lot of time moderating his severe expectations of himself, reassuring him that everyone makes mistakes sometimes.

Today, though, he really had done something wrong. He had participated in a game that targeted a particular kid in school. This particular child has been bullied for a while and was the target of a fight I broke up a few months ago on the way home form school.

Kids apparently taunt him and avoid being near him. If someone inadvertently touches him, everyone says,"Oh no he/she's got the E--- touch. Don't let him/her touch you!" and they all scatter. The Rationalist was carried along in this game today.

He felt badly about it. Where I would normally reassure him and tell him he was being too hard on himself, I instead agreed that he was wrong. I pointed out how terrible it would be to go to school every day and not have just one or two kids be bratty to you, but to have whole groups of kids making fun of you over and over again...to be the object of a game....to be ignored and excluded by just about everyone.

"You're better than that," I said to The Rationalist.

The Rationalist declared he was going to apologize to E---. After probing a little more, I discovered that E--- was unaware of what was going on. I told The Rationalist that apologizing would probably cause more harm than good, because the only way to apologize would be to reveal to E--- that he had been targeted again.

"Sometimes, when you make a bad choice, there is no solution. There's no way to take back what you've done. Sometimes an apology can't make things right. The only way to make things right is not to do what you did again."

The Rationalist was not happy with this speech. He had hoped that he would be able to assuage his guilt with an apology and receive forgiveness.....because that's how we do things at home.

When one of us loses it and yells, or acts particularly obnoxious, or is simply grumpy and short-tempered(adults included) an apology and forgiveness is soon to follow....if not soon, then eventually. ;-)

In the rest of the world, without loving, established relationships motivating reconciliation, apologies can be weak medicines indeed, especially if they are not turning points towards new, better behaviors. Everyone knows what it's like to receive an apology as an insincere appeasement......as a placeholder stopping up the gap before the next offense.

Should I have told my son that he disappointed God, or that he made the baby Jesus cry? That he was in danger of hellfire?

No. It would have done no good.

He didn't need more motivation to know how wrong what he had done was. He already knew that. What he needed was a way forward, an acknowledgment that he was off the mark, but that it didn't mean that he had to stay there.

The Power of Titles

Somehow or another I let myself get finagled into "coaching" the Spring Soccer season.

My total experience with soccer consists of watching The Rationalist and The Intuitive play this past season. Frequent refrains upon my lips were "What just happened?", "Why do they have a penalty kick?", "What does offsides mean?", and towards the end of the season,"OH...that's what that circle in the middle of the field is for!"

Basically the soccer organization was desperate. The coach for my sons' team had a family emergency and had to back out and the director kept sending out e-mails looking for someone to "step up" and provide adult supervision and encouragement.

I wrote a reluctant, hesitant e-mail saying that if absolutely nobody else came forward that I could do it...but that he should definitely pick anybody else besides me if he had other options.

"You're the one!" was his reply.

His exuberant confidence in my coaching abilities was actually frustrating to me. It reminded me of the semester that I helped teach English as a second language at my university. It was a temporary gig. I was supposed to be assisting the professor who had a group from Brazil that was specifically at our college for this crash course in English.

I thought that I was a "helper". He decided that I was a "teacher". When I asked him what we were supposed to do for the classes, he said, "Just talk to them."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't believe in curriculum. They'll learn more if you just converse with them."

".....OK...but talk with them about what?"

"Oh, I'm sure you'll figure it out."

He refused to give me and the other student teachers any guidance. He had no plan. He had no formula. He had no specific method. His idea was that he could throw us into a class of 15 Brazilians who spoke minimal English and we would "just figure it out".

That was a disaster. An hour every day for a month is a long amount of time to fill up with unscripted, unguided, unfocused conversation. I was there when the "teacher" evaluations came back. It wasn't pretty.

Apparently, the Brazilian group expected much more for the money and time they had dedicated to coming to our school.....like actual teachers who would actually teach.

That was one of the most depressing semesters I had. There's nothing like failing miserably when you don't want to, and while those in charge of you simultaneously refuse to help you succeed in any way.

It was one of those lessons that I have learned many times. Just because someone has a specific title doesn't mean they know jack about what they are doing.

Now, I am being called Coach in the e-mails I keep trading back and forth with the director....which cracks me up.

Coach.

How about Adult who Stands Around and Makes Sure Everyone Stays Alive?

Ugh.

Several more days of sick kids. The Intuitive was up all night emptying his stomach into a trash can.

Does it make me a terrible parent that as I took care of him, wishing that I could make him better, that I also was thinking, "Oh crap.....I really hope I don't catch whatever this is."

Probably.

Bringing My Work Home With Me

I mentioned a while back that my job consists of performing and public speaking in elementary schools, a different one each day. The main topic that my co-worker and I address is bullying prevention. We present a puppet show in which a child is being mentally and physically bullied, and when the strict performance part is done, we move into a Q&A section in which we are still in character, but we are interacting with the kids, asking and answering questions.

So, everyday I discuss bullying with kids.

Today, as I was driving the kids home from school, I saw one boy tackle another boy, a boy whom The Rationalist has said is frequently bullied and ostracized, and slam him onto the asphalt road. I immediately stopped the car, got out, and broke things up, not physically thank goodness, but by telling them to cut it out. The kid who tackled the other kid said he did it because the other kid pushed him.

I asked them if they were OK and told them to go home once they said they were. The initiator's sister responded with mouthy, smart-alec comments aimed at the other boy. At which point I asked her if her parents were home and if I should go talk to them about the way she was treating people. She didn't say much after that.

I drove home in a deep funk.

The week before had incidents in which The Rationalist was called a "bitch" by his coach's son and had a teenager in our neighborhood pull out a small pocket knife and turn and walk toward The Rationalist, implying that he was going to do something with it.

He thought he was being hilarious.

In the meantime I had to talk to the teenager's father, who said that he knew that his kid had found a knife and that "it was like a tiny thing".

Yeah. Ok. Whatever. I don't care if it's a tiny thing. Your kid is a teenager and mine is ten years old. Your son looks like a grown up to my kid.

Then tonight I had to ask the soccer coach if his son had a problem with my son. He seemed surprised at my question. "What? No." I had to tell him that his son had called my son a "bitch" several times. Sitting off to the side was another mother who then spoke up and said that the coach's son was also mean to her son.

The cluster of these incidents in a relatively short period of time has thrown me into a concerned period of anxiety.

The Rationalist will be heading into middle school next year and, well.....middle school is middle school. It's probably safer to walk into a lion's den covered in hamburger meat than it is to walk the halls of most middle schools.

I'm seeing the tumultuous tween/teen years ahead and I am fearful....not so much at the thought of The Rationalist being a teen, but at all that he's going to have to deal with.

I'm also discouraged. Discouraged that kids can be so rotten and mean. Discouraged that parents are so out of touch with their children that they have no idea what their kids act like. Discouraged that I can't be there all the time, playing the part of neighborhood enforcer and self-appointed righter of wrongs.

In each instance, I have had stomach-turning anxiety about what the best thing to do was. Do I intervene and possibly embarrass a kid who is being picked on, who might not want my help? Do I talk to the father of the teenager, who happens to always have a group of thugs out in front of his house drinking in the middle of the day? Do I talk to my son's coach, risking the possibility that it might make soccer go sour for The Rationalist if the conversation doesn't go well?

At each point I had to take the time to consider the possible outcomes and the chance that by saying something, I might cause unintended consequences.

I forced myself to intervene, knowing that I might earn the title of over-protective mother, or annoying-lady-who-always-sticks-her-nose-in-everyone-else's-business. I had all of the awkward conversations. I ignored the urge to simply do nothing and take defensive measures, avoiding situations and hoping that everything would just work itself out on its own.

And the results?

Mostly positive. The coach had no idea that his son was acting that way. The father of the teenager at least knows that I am keeping close watch on my kids, and that I am not afraid(well maybe I'm a little afraid!) to get into things if I have to. The kids whose fight I broke up? Well, knowing kids, that will probably continue, but maybe next time they won't think that just because they are away from the school and adult supervision that they can get away with whatever they want to.

Still, even though nothing completely blew up in my face, it's made me weary. I don't want to have to have these conversations. I don't want there to be a reason to have these conversations.

sigh.

Soccer Pics

The Rationalist is the furthest kid on the left in the orange Jersey. His team was so evenly matched with the opposing team that the entire game went by with no goals on either side.....several near misses for both teams...but no points. They each had good goalies defending the goal.

The Rationalist, while being much smaller than everyone else on his team, always makes a few good strategic moves in getting the ball away from the opposing team. He is a good support member and always gives it his best shot.

The Intuitive got to try his hand at being goalie for the second half of his game. His team is a lot like the Bad New Bears of the soccer league.

However, even though his team lost by several points, The Intuitive did make several important saves that kept the defeat from being even worse.

He was very pleased with himself.

Good-Bye Imagined Coolness

I now officially qualify for the term "soccer mom".

Well, I was never very cool to begin with.

Both the boys had a lot of fun. The Intuitive's coach was laid back and said he was more interested in the kids having fun. He was good with the kids and has his own son on the team. Many of them are like The Intuitive, and this is their first soccer experience, so he was appropriately gentle with them.

The Rationalist's coach was tough. It's an under 12 team, an older group than The Intuitive's, and they were all business. The coach wasn't mean, but he worked them really hard.

The Rationalist is going to be sore today!

Once I learn how to take better pictures at night, I'll post something that isn't incredibly blurry.

Back to School...Back to Sanity

Ah...there's nothing quite like the sound of a quiet house, empty of the non-stop activity of two boys.

We had a great summer; lots of fun activities, a couple of extended trips visiting family, and the occasional beach outing.....but I was starting to get worn out. About a week ago I realized that I had not been completely alone for over 2 months. Not even for a couple of hours.

It was starting to get to me. My nerves were beginning to fray as we drew closer to the end of the summer....but I made it without totally losing my sanity and without completely losing it with the kids.

Now, we get to return to the routines of work and school. We get to be away from each other for a while and come back together with new things for us to talk about.

Yay!

The Rationalist started his last year of elementary school and the Intuitive started 3rd grade today.

They are growing up so fast.

I'm happy I get to see them continuing to become their own people.

Thunderclan Roll!!

The Rationalist and The Intuitive are both avid readers. Going to the library usually ends in bringing home stacks of books and a few anime DVDs, like Yu-Gi-Oh....or the very bizarre Dragon Ball...which I still can't believe they watched and enjoyed. It was right on the cusp of being a little too bizarre for them to have my permission to watch it, but I think most of the bizarreness went over their heads.

They enjoy the grand, epic style of cartoons like Yu-Gi-Oh which pit the forces of good against evil and which have a continuous story-line that builds throughout the series. Japanese series have a knack for that type of story-building and mythology-making that most Western cartoons don't develop nearly as well. Most Western-style cartoons tend to have more stand-alone episodes and tend to keep only a thin thread of mythology running through the series.

Currently, I am being pestered by my children to read the Warriors books, a series of books about warring cat clans. It sounds a little weird...but they love it. They read each book and discuss it afterwards. They run around outside pretending to be from warring cat clans. They talk about the special terminology used in the books. They whisper about the parts I haven't read yet, so as not to spoil the surprise. They talk about the twist and turns in the books.

In short....they love these books.

These books do the same thing that a good anime series does; they develop a consistent, ongoing, mythical story-line while incorporating adventurous battles and intrigue.

So...if you have a child in the upper elementary grades, or lower if they're advanced readers, give the books a try.

Conversations I Can't Win

After whiny, complaining, outraged speeches directed at yours truly from The Rationalist concerning the unfairness of letting The Intuitive play Wii first.....I sent him to his room.

Me: "I told you that was enough. If you don't quit fussing about it you'll have to go to your room and complain about it there."

The Rationalist: "But I asked before we even went to church this morning. I-"

Me: "That's it!...Go to your room!"

After a few minutes in his room spent caterwauling, complaining and pouring out his grievances to himself and God, I guess...he came out.

The Rationalist, finally calm and composed: "Can I come out of my room, now?"

Me: "Only if you're done complaining, fussing and yelling about how life is so awful and unfair to you."

The Rationalist, in a deadpan voice with a sigh as he plopped himself down on the couch: "OK. But, you know...life is actually unfair sometimes."

Rock the Casbah!

Who else can rock a mohawk and a polo shirt buttoned up to the very top button?

No one else but The Intuitive!

He's been pestering me for a mohawk since he was 5. I kept pushing the idea away, telling him he had to wait until he was older. Finally, I compromised and told him he could have one during summer break, when it wouldn't be a distraction in school. A couple of weeks ago, I moved up the date and told him that I would give him one the night before the last day of school.

So, here it is.

Despite his less than excited expression...he was very happy!

The Intuitive is even more excited because next year the "mandatory uniform" policy at his school has been changed to a "voluntary uniform" policy.....which might as well be a "no uniform" policy because who is going to continue to wear uniforms when they see all their classmates being allowed to wear anything they want?

Oh, that's right....The Rationalist will!

He's already informed me as much. A love of uniforms, patrol authority, and a reverence for following the rules....that kid is cut out for the military.

Meanwhile, The Intuitive is thinking of all the different ways he can wear his hair and clothing.

Experimentation, thy name is The Intuitive.

Early Transcendence

The Rationalist,"I'm in a good mood today!"

Me: "Yeah? Well that's good."

The Rationalist: "Yep. I feel really cheerful!"

Me, laughing,"Well...it's always nice to be around cheerful children instead of grumpy children. Why are you so cheerful?"

The Rationlist shrugs,"I just am."

Me: "Ok."

The Rationalist:"Actually, you know why I am in such a great mood?"

Me: "No. Why?"

The Rationalist: "Reading Buddies."

Me: "Huh?"

The Rationalist: "Today was Reading Buddies Day and I got to go to the kindergarten and read stories for them."

Me: "Oh....so you liked that?"

The Rationalist: "Yes....it made my heart jump and made me feel really good inside. Have you ever had that happen to you?"

Me, smiling and giving him a hug: "I sure have. You're a good kid...you know that, right?!"

Odds and Ends

1. Took the kids to Chik-fil-A after their dentist appointments. While waiting in line I pondered the fact that almost all of the restaurant's crew was ethnically white. Then I realized that the Taco Bell next door to the Chik-fil-A has an almost completely black crew. This is strange because the area we live in is very diverse; almost equally white, hispanic, and black.

I doubt either restaurant owner intentionally set out to have such a one-sided group of employees, or I at least hope they didn't set out with that motivation. Still, it made me wonder how exactly it happened that way and if the employees ever noticed it.

2. The Rationalist was talking about having to pick an inventor or scientist for a research project. He's picked Thomas Edison. After talking about some of the things he invented, I tried to explain to them that before Edison if a person wanted to hear music, they had to either go and listen to a concert or band somewhere, or learn how to play music themselves. There was no such thing as being able to listen to music by oneself, at any moment of one's own choosing. Even I was given pause as I thought about that. The Intuitve said in a creepy voice,"So now we can hear dead people's voices!" When I asked him what he meant, he explained that we can hear musicians who lived and recorded music a long time ago, even though they are no longer alive. It's true....we have a level of communication with the "dead". These are the kinds of comments that have earned my youngest child the label of The Intuitive.

3. While the kids played inside tubular gymnasium, The Rationalist semi-flirted--at least as much as an almost-ten-year-old can flirt--with a girl of about thirteen. At one point in their "game" he simply shook his head and said knowingly, "Gosh....teenage girls these days."

He cracks me up.

Brag Blog

The Rationalist and his fellow teammates came in third place in their school's Battle of the Books contest. I was pleased that they at least placed. The Rationalist has been a part of many competitions and always missed making it into the top three.

Next week brings the Math Bowl for The Intuitive, a nerve-wracking, timed competition that is torture for me to watch. I can't handle hearing the beeping timer and watching the team members arguing about the right answer while they lose time, which also means they earn less points.

The Rationalist has become a SPIT--Safety Patrol In Training--following in my elementary footsteps. I have yet to tell him I got kicked out of the Safety Patrols for being a serial procrastinator who never turned in homework. Maybe I'll keep that to myself. Knowing my son, I'd lose all respect in his eyes.

The Rationalist was born to be an enforcer. I'm hoping becoming a Patrol doesn't reinforce the negative aspects of that personality trait. He already sees himself as the third parent in the house...no matter how many times I remind him that he isn't.

Parental Censorship

I just started reading the Harry Potter books. When they first came out DH and I didn't have children and then, when we did, they were too young to be interested in Harry Potter.

The Rationalist has been asking to read them for quite some time, but they are just out of his assigned reading level for his accelerated reader program at school. Mainly, I was trying to make him wait until he was a bit older. From what I have heard, the last few books are a lot darker and have more general peril in them. I knew once he started the series that he would fly through the books in a matter of months, if not weeks, so I was hoping to let him loose on the entire enterprise once I thought he could handle all of them.

I am somewhat ambivalent about exerting a measured amount of censorship over what our children read. When I was a child, I was an advanced reader. By third grade, I was reading my mother's pulp fiction paperbacks, most of which were wildly inappropriate for me due to the sexual and violent content. By fifth grade, I was a huge Stephen King fan.

The scarier, the more horrifying, the better.

So....I understand the urge for fantasy and horror at a young age.

On the other hand, I was exposed to many subjects at a young age that I wouldn't want my own children to be exposed to. Walking the line between implementing parental guidance and allowing breathing space for the kids is a balancing act.

The Intuitive is ready to attack all of the R.L. Stine , Goosebumps books. I'm making him wait until 3rd grade only because I made The Rationalist wait that long. I had been turned off of the Goosebumps series when The Rationalist came home with one in first grade. The story involved a young girl become possessed by a scary mask and almost strangling her best friend to death.

Too much for a 6 year old to process.

By third grade The Rationalist landed in a classroom stocked with every Goosebumps book ever written. He'd read them all by Christmas break.

Now, I only casually keep track of what he's reading. There have been only a few instances when he has come home with a book that has been vetoed by us, usually because it has more realistic violence in it than we think he's old enough to handle. It is surprising sometimes what subjects pop up in the young juvenile section of the library.

One of the books he picked out in second grade dealt heavily with domestic abuse and had scenes depicting a woman being hit by her husband...way too heavy of a subject for an 8 year old to deal with. Usurping his choice, we made him stop reading it and find something else to meet his reading requirements.

It's becoming more complicated to figure out what is appropriate now that both of the boys are becoming more sophisticated.

The illusion of parental control I possess will probably completely evaporate over the next few years.

Camp Out

The Rationalist and The Intuitive have been tucked into their air mattress beds inside the tent for their first night of camping out in the back yard by themselves.

DH and I listened as they regaled us with ghost stories, after they were finished reading their books by flashlight.

The gate has been locked with a padlock and the dog is standing by ready to protect them from stray cats and squirrels.

The big question is:

Will the two boys become scared and want back inside or will Mom excessively worry and join them in the tent around 11:00 pm?

I'll let you know in the morning.

Changing Insults

School age children can be childish, cruel, and thoughtless. It's a universal trait. So, it came as no surprise to me when The Rationalist related some of the "jokes" his friends at school were using. Typical 4th grade boy humor. Bathroom humor. Making fun of each other humor. Usually it's distasteful to me, but I don't really make a big deal about it. Kids will be kids.

Yesterday, as we were talking about school, he said that one of his friends was asking people if they were happy. If they said "Yes," his friend would laugh and say,"Haha! You must be gay! Happy means gay!" Another friend would tell someone to watch his upraised index finger, which he would slowly move from near his face to his crotch and then say the person was gay because they were looking there.

I asked The Rationalist what he thought his friends meant by their jokes. He said he wasn't sure; saying that maybe "gay" meant "dumb".

We haven't really covered heterosexuality with him, let alone homosexuality. I was pretty sure that he had no idea what "gay" meant....and he didn't. Needless to say he wanted to know what it did mean. He looked it up in the dictionary and asked what homosexual meant, giggling at the fact that sex was in the word, a word he knows usually provokes his parents into changing the channel when they hear it on TV and the kids are in the room.

I gave a simple response about boys "liking" boys instead of girls, but knew it wasn't a complete explanation.

I was disturbed by the whole thing, not just because of having to discuss it with The Rationalist, but because of the use of "You're gay!" as a bandied about insult.

A few weeks before I had heard one of the school's patrols bickering with another child and shouting "You're gay!" at him.

1. How did a term about a person's sexuality becomes a common insult for elementary school students? I know kids tease and say stupid things to each other....but how have things gone from "You're dumb!".....to "You're gay!"....not that calling someone dumb is acceptable.

2. It reminded me of this story about Carl Joseph Walker-Hoover, an 11 year old child who killed himself after constantly being subjected to these kinds of taunts.

I wonder whether the very prominent conflict between gay rights activists and cultural conservatives is somehow trickling down into our children's lives. It seems as if the rhetoric is creeping into their consciousness and becoming a weapon, an insult, and an epithet.

If elementary students, 9 and 10 year olds, are using these words then I can only imagine what middle school and high school students are saying.

How did we get here?

I haven't decided if making my son cry makes me a good parent or a terrible one.

Judge for yourself:

"J--, I forgot to sign your school notebook last night. Bring it here along with your homework so I can sign them before we leave for school."

The Intuitive plops down his backpack. I leaf through his papers, sign everything and take a moment to check his homework.

"Honey....you've made a couple of mistakes on this math worksheet. I don't think you understood what you were supposed to do. Your math answers are right, but you were supposed to be looking for a specific answer."

"Don't tell me!"

"Don't tell you what?"

"Don't tell me the answers!"

"I'm not telling you the answers....I'm telling you that you made a few mistakes."

"That's cheating! You're making me a cheater!"

"What?"

"Everybody else will get them wrong and I'll have them all right...all because you made me cheat!"

"I'm not making you cheat."

"Yes you are! I'm not going to change them!"

"......um....YES...you are!"

The Intuitive proceeds to crying and wailing.

"Look....hon...I"m not trying to make you cheat. I'm not giving you the ans--"

"YES, YOU ARE!" he says with intensity.

"I'm going to go get ready to take you guys to school. You'd better be done with this and have it put it away before I come out of my room."

more wailing and crying.

So....have I raised a child who is so honest and independent that he refuses to accept any help?

Or...have I raised a child who is just as stubborn as his parents?

Or.....Am I just a terrible mother in general, causing her child to melt down over something completely insignificant.

I swear I can't tell the difference between those choices some days.

Video Games, Economics, and Psychological Warfare

The Rationalist, like most 9 year old boys, loves to play video games. He could live his whole life without watching TV as long as he could play with his Wii. One of his favorite games is Mario Kart, a racing game which depends heavily on "power-ups" which the racers use in the midst of the game. Some power ups are offensive and can be used to injure other racers, others increase speed or make your vehicle indestructible for a short time.

Besides the strict racing portion of Mario Kart, there is also a "battle" mode. Characters accumulate coins or pop each other's balloons to earn points. The team with the most points wins. Pretty simple

In the last couple of months we have been using the Wii with our WiFi connection. Players can race real-time with other players from all around the world . This has fascinated The Rationalist. Knowing that his competitors are not simply computer-programmed characters, but are actual people who are simultaneously racing him has made his game that much more exciting. He spent the first month with WiFi racing people from Japan, Germany, Canada..etc.

More recently he has become obsessed with "battling" people and it has been an interesting thing to watch......or, more accurately, hear.

Not long after starting to "battle" his anger level started to rise and there would be explosive shouts and howls of frustration.

Why?

Because playing humans is much harder than playing a computer. Computers are indifferent and while programmed to be competitive are also fair.

The Rationalist has incredible skill in Mario Kart. In battles he accumulates points rapidly, quickly leading the pack. As a result, he becomes a target for the other players. Certain battles have a limited amount of coins. After they have all been accumulated, the only way to earn more is to attack other players, causing them to drop their coins, making them available for other players to swoop in and get.

This is war, folks. Limited resources with a high value which can only be taken by force. Anger at those who have the most resources. Grudges towards players who are better than most at accumulating those resources.

The Rationalist soon learned that being one of the best brings negative consequences. Some players would continue to target him even after he had lost his coins, simply out of spite, or to prevent his meteoric rise to champion coin collector again.

The game was no longer "fair" in the sense that it was even-handed towards every player. Instead the game had incorporated vendettas, economics, and the perception of an acceptable amount of "success" into a chaotic free-for-all.....which was quite fun but also more challenging than The Rationalist was used to.

The only way for The Rationalist to win was to continue to be one of the better players.....and to continue to hone his skills in fighting off the players who wanted to take him down.

There is a corollary somewhere in all that to the way society really works in a "grown-up" world.

The Up Side of Living in Florida

Beautiful day at the beach.

The reason why they're so skinny.

Washed over by a wave.

Freely floating.

Biblical Scholars

Life is so coincidental and comical. My pseudo-intellectual interests in Scripture are mirrored, unbidden, around me.

After school, as I was driving my two children and a neighborhood kid home, this conversation took place...completely out of the blue.

Mark, the neighborhood kid, to me: "Did Jesus really die and get raised up again after three days?"

Me: "Yes."

Mark: "I know what happened to Jesus....he was nailed to a cross and hit with ropes."

Me: "Uh huh"

Mark: "Where's Jesus now?"

Me:"In Heaven....with God."

Mark: "Who is God?  Where is Heaven?"

Me: "Well.....God isn't a person like you and I are persons.  SO...I'm not exactly sure where Heaven is."

The Rationalist: "Jesus isn't with God...Jesus is God."

Mark: "No..no....no!  Jesus was God's Son!"

The Intuitive: "No.  Jesus was Mary and Joseph's son."

The Rationalist: "No...you see God took a part of himself and made it into a baby...baby Jesus. God made Jesus."

Mark: ".....yeah, but did Jesus really get back alive?"

I was laughing on the inside during this whole conversation.  I read the exact same arguments on multiple biblio-blogs written by men in their forties who are in essence having the same conversation, albeit with a much more expanded vocabulary.