I Worry

Parents worry. It is inevitable, I think. I find myself worrying today about an issue which sounds silly, and is so odd that I can’t believe I’m actually writing a post about it. The question on my mind today is, “Is my son going to church too much?”

It’s a question that requires explanation prior to exploration. G is 13. He’s my son, but I’ll say it anyway – He’s a great kid. I love him, but more than that, I like him. I enjoy him. I am blessed to be his mother. Is he perfect? No, but he’s G, and I treasure him.

Thankfully, he really enjoys church. I never have to persuade him to go, cajole him into attending. He looks forward to Sunday school and youth group, might be a little bored in the worship services, but goes anyway. I don’t worry about any of that, and am lucky in his enthusiasm. My worry lies in the fact that he also likes to go to church – youth group – with a friend of his who attends a local community church. This community church has a more conservative faith than mine – a more conservative faith than our own church.

I didn’t choose my church originally because of its denomination, but as I became more and more acquainted with Methodism, I become more and more convinced that I had chosen my church wisely, or that God had led me to the right place. The problem is that Methodism isn’t easy. It isn’t a multiple choice, true/false faith. Methodism is an essay test. It requires work. Even something as basic as the Wesley Quadrilateral assumes that we will think – examine – and listen to the leading of God.

I may be wrong, but I think the theology of the community church that G is attending with his friend is more black/white – more right/wrong. That seems simpler to me – easier to grasp. It isn’t, however, the kind of faith that I want to foster in my son.

I worry because lately we’ve had some conversations where social issues have been raised – by him – and his attitude toward them has been more conservative than I would have expected. I know he’s 13, and I know a 13 year old is more likely to see the world in black and white rather than a multi-dimensional gray, but I’m a parent, and I worry.

I have a feeling that the solution isn’t to restrict his church attendance. I think the answer is that I need to get my own act together. When it comes to difficult social issues, there are some that I have set aside, leaving my own conclusions about them murky. I need to do the hard work. I need to pull them off the shelves and struggle with them, so that I can articulate when I believe to my son. He’s smart, and he will be able to start his own struggles, as long as I can point out to him a few basic ideas:

• We grow in faith. He’s been given a seedling, not a full-grown plant, and he needs to work hard to nurture it.
• Doubt is not sin. Doubt is an opportunity for growth.
• He doesn’t have to agree with everything he is told. He’s allowed, and even expected to ask himself, “Does this make sense? Do I think this is how God wants me to believe or to act?
• He can ask questions – of me, of his dad, of his family, of his Sunday school teacher, of his youth leaders. We all know what it is to try to answer hard questions. I don’t have the answers, but I will help him in his explorations.

Most of all, I want him to know grace. It can be elusive, and it can be hidden when we stop looking for it.

Image: Tree in front of J's school.