One evening a couple of weeks ago, shortly after Kiddo's bath, there came a knock at the door. We were expecting someone, but not quite so early. Anyway, I'm not a total hermit, so I went down to answer it. On my porch, showing flagrant disregard or total misunderstanding of what "no soliciting" means, were two fellows who started in to want to show me what God had in store for me. Ignoring the philosophical implications of how these two strangers could possibly have any idea what their God might have planned for my life, I told them my kid was in the bath and that I had to go. Yes, I lied. I thought it would be nicer than the several things I wanted to say to them, and it did get them to go away.
So I went back upstairs. The conversation that followed went something like this:
Mimi: Who was it?
Me: Somebody wanted to show me God.
Kiddo: I want to see God!
(pause)
Kiddo: What's God?
Mimi: Okay, let's get your pajamas on.
And scene.
At the time, it was pretty dang funny. But it did give me pause. One of these days, Kiddo is going to really want an answer to that question. What am I going to tell her?
See, here's the thing. I am not religious. At all. I was raised Catholic. My parents are still very devout and I have reason to believe all of my siblings still practice in one form or another, but I just don't know if I even believe in God. GASP! Though I've been hesitant to categorize myself as an atheist, I'm not sure that isn't just because I spent 12 years in Catholic school and I was trained to be afraid to not believe.
I think it all started in about the fifth grade when Sister Anna told us the one about "if you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could move a mountain." I believed. I had faith. I thought surely I'd be able to move the mountain I could see from the classroom window. When I could not, I was pissed. And rather than look inward and try to address my inherent unworthiness, I wondered why I should waste any more time trying to please this unknowable entity we call "God." (I may not have used the phrase "unknowable entity" when I was 10.) Clearly I had a lot to learn about allegory, but I couldn't help but notice that no matter what I did, I was going to come up short. And it set me on a lifetime of doubting that has landed me here.
So, now that I've lost half of you, how do you answer a Kid's questions about God if you don't buy into any of the available answers? I wish I had some sort of canned "Bible Stories for Children" response or could just show her a picture of Charlton Heston in The Ten Commandments and say, "See that? That's God. He'll look after you. Now stop worrying about it." (Yes, Heston played Moses, but he also did the "voice of God" for the movie.) There's freedom – and comfort – in faith, it seems, but I don't have access to it.
I don't want to lie to my kid. It’s just that I can’t help but think the universe is indifferent and there's no omnipotent presence looking out for me. That the only "immortality" any of us has is in the memories of the people whose lives we touch while we're alive. I'm okay with that, if that's what it is. So why do I feel like I owe Kiddo a better answer than that?
So I went back upstairs. The conversation that followed went something like this:
Mimi: Who was it?
Me: Somebody wanted to show me God.
Kiddo: I want to see God!
(pause)
Kiddo: What's God?
Mimi: Okay, let's get your pajamas on.
And scene.
At the time, it was pretty dang funny. But it did give me pause. One of these days, Kiddo is going to really want an answer to that question. What am I going to tell her?
See, here's the thing. I am not religious. At all. I was raised Catholic. My parents are still very devout and I have reason to believe all of my siblings still practice in one form or another, but I just don't know if I even believe in God. GASP! Though I've been hesitant to categorize myself as an atheist, I'm not sure that isn't just because I spent 12 years in Catholic school and I was trained to be afraid to not believe.
I think it all started in about the fifth grade when Sister Anna told us the one about "if you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could move a mountain." I believed. I had faith. I thought surely I'd be able to move the mountain I could see from the classroom window. When I could not, I was pissed. And rather than look inward and try to address my inherent unworthiness, I wondered why I should waste any more time trying to please this unknowable entity we call "God." (I may not have used the phrase "unknowable entity" when I was 10.) Clearly I had a lot to learn about allegory, but I couldn't help but notice that no matter what I did, I was going to come up short. And it set me on a lifetime of doubting that has landed me here.
So, now that I've lost half of you, how do you answer a Kid's questions about God if you don't buy into any of the available answers? I wish I had some sort of canned "Bible Stories for Children" response or could just show her a picture of Charlton Heston in The Ten Commandments and say, "See that? That's God. He'll look after you. Now stop worrying about it." (Yes, Heston played Moses, but he also did the "voice of God" for the movie.) There's freedom – and comfort – in faith, it seems, but I don't have access to it.
I don't want to lie to my kid. It’s just that I can’t help but think the universe is indifferent and there's no omnipotent presence looking out for me. That the only "immortality" any of us has is in the memories of the people whose lives we touch while we're alive. I'm okay with that, if that's what it is. So why do I feel like I owe Kiddo a better answer than that?
Comments
You know God, Philip, and Yuki should know the mighty, omnipotent and merciful God.
Do you really want her to learn about God on the playground??
You have already chosen to give her a rich bi-cultural life experience, why not a rich spiritual life as well? I disagree with Ric entirely on this!
You are a good Dad and you will do the right thing, I am a bossy mom so I needed to say something.
xoxo
Judy
First of all the nuns at St. Louis were a bit screwy so basing your faith on something Sr. Ana said is not really fair!
God transcends religion so you don't have to give here religion to give her God.
Before you doubted God's existence didn't it give you some security to know there was order in the universe.
Teach her about the God of your mom and dad. Teach her the good things about God. I'm just guessing but I think you more doubt "religion" than you do God.
You can't let her choose about God, if you never tell her who he is. Start simple and only answer the questions she asks.
don't miss the opportunity to be the one to teach her about this. If you don't teach her about it, someone else will and you won't be in control of what she learns!
After all, you don't have to believe in Santa, the tooth fairy, unicorns, fairy princesses.... to answer her questions about those!
Love you Philip!
xo
Gibs
I was told Catholicism, then "every religion is its own path to God," then "you're a smart ass teenager and you need to come with me to my new oh-so-rich-white Episcopalian church." Then some variation of the 3 plus all the end-of-life fears a former Catholic has. So I currently doubt all those and then some. But in the end I know that my parents loved me and told me that I was smart and able to think about and question things for myself.
I think as long as she is exposed to what different people think and believe, and is loved as completely as she is by you two, she will be alright.
-Nikki
P.S. Former Catholics are more cynical and fun at parties, though, so you might want to send her to Catholic school just for that reason.
Main Entry: god
Pronunciation: \ˈgäd also ˈgȯd\
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English, from Old English; akin to Old High German got god
Date: before 12th century
1 capitalized : the supreme or ultimate reality: as a : the Being perfect in power, wisdom, and goodness who is worshipped as creator and ruler of the universe b Christian Science : the incorporeal divine Principle ruling over all as eternal Spirit : infinite Mind
2 : a being or object believed to have more than natural attributes and powers and to require human worship; specifically : one controlling a particular aspect or part of reality
3 : a person or thing of supreme value
4 : a powerful ruler
Then when she's a bit older go with your definition.
Then when she's even older explain how you came to terms with your definition.
Or watch the Simpson's episode where Lisa creates a colony of beings in a petri dish that worship her as the Creator.
And read Plato.