Coming back to seminary

I’m teaching seminary again.

I’ve been asked to assist in our ward’s early morning seminary class. We have an awesome teacher who has been at it for six years, and she is terrific. But in her six years, she’s learned that the last quarter of the year is tough – tough for the students and tough for her. Everyone has been at it for a long time, and by the fourth quarter, it’s just that much tougher to keep getting up day after day.

So to mix things up for the students, our teacher invites other ward members to come in and teach from time to time. And she’s asked for a helper: me.

I taught home study seminary nearly 30 years ago while I was in grad school, and I’ve substituted in seminary from time to time during the nineteen years I’ve had kids in seminary. I also taught a couple of years of a YSA institute class in my stake.

Now I’m going to early morning seminary twice a week, which is a challenge for me waking-up-wise. I’m preparing more lessons, and I’m reading scriptures with more purpose. And it’s a blast!

We have a pretty big group in our class – over 20 kids attend most days – and they are well mannered and as attentive as a bunch of sleepy high schoolers will be. Our regular teacher has lots of tricks to keep them awake – make them move, make they speak, make them draw, make them read. I get to learn a lot from watching her.

We’re studying the epistles in the New Testament – not the lightest reading of the scriptures, but not Isaiah, either. It’s challenging that there are fewer story-based lessons, but it’s fun to dig into some of the dichotomies that Paul presents (grace and the law, for instance) and to see how those differ from one epistle to another.

I carry the mantra that I heard repeatedly when I taught back in the 1980s – we teach the scriptures; we do not teach about the scriptures. The New Testament is our primary text, not student or teacher manuals, not commentaries, not cute online resources. Of course we’ll use those other resources to support our teaching, but in the end, it’s all about the scriptures.

And it’s a blast.

Teaching Youth Obedience Without Driving Them Away

I read a post at another blog on “losing” youth (the article is here). The premise was when youth find steady boyfriends or girlfriends we lose them because they are doing something counter to the counsel of the prophets. They are serving two masters. They are cut off. And therefore, we need to do something to keep them from entering into those steady dating relationships.

Here’s what I agree with:

1. The prophets have consistently taught our youth not to date before age sixteen, and not to date steadily until they are ready to consider marriage (after missions for young men). Prophets have been consistent in this counsel for years, and it’s good advice.

2. Dating too early -- and steady dating too early -- can have harmful effects on a young person’s social development, and in the most extreme, can lead to moral transgression. Not only is there the risk that a couple that is too familiar will become too familiar, but by dating exclusively one person, a young person can shut himself or herself off to other friendships and associations.

Here’s what I disagree with:

1. A steady-dating young person is lost. That steady dating young person may be unwise. That person may not have the full social experience that a non-steady dater could have. That person is even living contrary to the teachings of the prophets of our day, and may therefore miss out some blessings. But that person is not lost.

2. Sexual sin, while it may grow out of steady dating, is not the inevitable consequence of steady dating, and steady dating is not the only contributor to sexual sin. It’s true that if I hang around a barber shop long enough, I’m likely to get a haircut, but it’s not true that I will never get a haircut if I never go to the barber shop. Equating sexual sin with steady dating as a fait accompli is harmful to young people.

I left a comment on that blog I read. I suggested that a steady-dating youth is not lost, but it is precisely then that we in the church need to love and support and seek to understand that youth, not to teach him that he is lost and irretrievable.

I’ve mentioned on my blog before hearing Elder Clayton Christensen (then an area authority seventy) speak in our stake and tell us that if we didn’t smell tobacco in our sacrament meetings we were doing something wrong. We desperately want to attract sinners and transgressors to us so that they can feel the Savior’s love and desire to draw nearer to Him. It is the same with our youth. All of our youth, whether they are steady daters, double piercers, short skirted flip-flop wearing girls or unshaven surly boys.

What it comes down to is this, in my view: it’s about how we teach them standards and commandments. If we teach standards as exclusionary markers, we will exclude those young people who are on the fence or already do not comply. If, however, we teach the standards as invitations from a loving Father in Heaven, we may attract some youth to rethink some of their choices and to enjoy the blessings of the atonement.

Don’t get me wrong. I do not mean to counsel the prophets on how they teach the youth. As Elder Holland pointed out not too long ago in conference, general officers of the church need to teach a certain message and a certain standard with absolute clarity. But in the trenches, on the ground, we need to reinforce those teachings with gentleness, kindness, meekness and love unfeigned.

I am peeved by EFY’s requirement to have young people follow a strict dress and grooming code, not because I oppose the dress and grooming code per se, but because it excludes youth that might be close to embracing the dress and grooming code, but are not there yet. (At the same time, I acknowledge that the sponsors of EFY can choose whatever standards they like; I can choose whether I like their choice or not.) I’m glad, therefore, that my stake does not impose an EFY-like dress and grooming code for its youth conference. I’m similarly peeved by a militant application of the principle of white shirts on youth who bless and pass the sacrament. The handbook’s guideline is not militant, but inviting and gentle. In our ward, the application is also gentle, and I’m glad for that. (And almost all of our boys wear white shirts almost all of the time, and, as near as I can tell, don’t make a fuss about it.)

In the end, I think we need to consider our goal: we want to bring our youth to the Savior so that they can enjoy the blessings of His atonement in their lives. We want to invite them to “come and see” for themselves. We want to encourage them to learn from their own experience the truthfulness of the gospel. It is, therefore, in my mind dangerous to establish needless conflict in their lives, suggesting they are lost because for today they make a different choice from established prophetic counsel.

In fact, our youth will choose what they want, no matter what we do. We can teach the standards and model them, and they will see us and see their friends and see all the other influences in their lives and then decide. As important as it is to be clear, it is also important to be inviting and loving as we encourage them to continue to draw near to the Lord. We cannot force them, and if we try, we will fail (if not in the short term, most assuredly in the long term).

Open Your Heart -- or Surviving the Youth Sunday School Class

I taught my son’s Sunday School class this week. It was The Dreaded Fourteen And Fifteen Year-Old Class. And I survived. In fact, it was pretty cool. I was bishop to many of these kids when they were baptized; maybe that’s why they went easy on me.

Of course we use the same manual and same scripture blocks in the youth classes as in Gospel Doctrine. I prepared but didn’t quite know what to expect. I probably over-prepared. (Ok, I certainly over prepared, but I was glad I did.) When I teach a youth class, I like to have lots of arrows in the quiver just in case I need them.

The lesson this week was on Paul’s second missionary journey. We looked at the maps of his journeys, and we had the kids draw a world map on the board so we could talk about to what “world” the apostles were carrying the gospel. We reminded them of the story of Saul / Paul (and they loved playing dumb about it…). We then talked specifically about how Paul had to listen to the spirit to know where to go on his journey, and that the spirit constrained him from going some places, and led him to others.

Then we read in Acts 16:14 about Lydia: “And a certain woman named Lydia, a seller of purple, of the city of Thyatira, which worshipped God, heard us: whose heart the Lord opened, that she attended unto the things which were spoken of Paul” (emphasis mine).

We stuck on this idea of opening one’s heart for most of the lesson. We probably used that phrase “open heart” about three dozen times. We talked about what it meant to have a closed heart and an open heart. We compared the closed heart feeling to how the class members felt about their little siblings who had messed with their stuff or their rooms or told on them. We suggested the closed heart was in a box under the bed, in a safe, or in a Swiss bank account (all their ideas). We talked about how an open heart might feel different from that and how. And we talked about how they might open their hearts to spiritual things.

I remember being 15. It was like I was on the dark side of the moon, out of radio contact with spiritual things. Even though as a younger kid I was really tuned into what I thought was the spirit, at 15, I was aloof, and trying my best to be a little rebellious. I see the same thing in my own son, and I’ve seen it before. Part of my goal as a dad, as a bishop and as a friend to some of these kids, has been to do what I can to keep the gravitational pull of the spirit strong enough so that when they return from the dark side of the moon, they’ll be swept up in it and feel it again.

So we didn’t talk about Thessalonians. And we didn’t talk about Paul’s different missionary companions. And we didn’t talk about signs of the second coming. Frankly, most of the lesson was left on the cutting room floor, except for this idea of opening our hearts to the spirit.

By the time it was done, I felt pretty good about myself. Until I got home later and my son reported that I hadn’t done too bad. “Thanks,” I said. “What was the point of the lesson?”

He thought for a while. “Well, I drew a map of the world.”

Me: “Yeah…”

Son: “And we talked about Paul.”

Me: “Yeah…”

Son: “What?”

Me: “What about the point? That I said about three dozen times?”

Son: “What?”

Me: (moving my hands in an opening gesture)

Son: “What?”

Me: (still gesturing) “Open….”

Son: “Oh, open, uh, open…”

Me: “Open…your…”

Son: “Oh, yeah. Open your heart.”

Radio silence? You bet. (Sigh.)

I don't believe -- Part II

In my last post I wrote about my son's declaration that he did not believe in God.

I was touched by the responses that post received, both public and private. I wrote the post because the point of my blog is to write about my experience as a Latter-day Saint. And part of that experience (for me, anyway) is teenagers who question their faith. Most of my kids have done it in one way or another. Some have been gentler about it. Some have been more strident (and less will to talk about it). But it's all part of the mix for me as an LDS parent.

When I started my journey on the road of parenting, I was filled with great expectations. My kids would know that I loved them and they would love me. We'd be a happy family, and we'd live worthy of the blessings of our family's sealing.

Have you noticed that in parenting discussions, it's often the youngest parents who do most of the talking? I was certainly that way. As I've aged (matured? become more battle-worn?) I've learned that there are lots of moving parts in the rearing of a child. There are few easy answers and there are no guaranteed results. In fact, our Father in Heaven's plan is pretty clear about not guaranteeing the outcome. The opportunity is guaranteed, but the outcome is up to each one of us.

It took me a long time to learn that lesson as a dad. My younger children owe my older children a great debt for what the older kids taught me (sometimes patiently, sometimes not so much).

But here's something my kids do know about me. They know I love them. They know that they are welcome at my table. And they know I want them to be happy.

And there are some things I know about them. They love me back. I'm welcome at their table, too. And they respect my faith, even if they do not all embrace it.

If we are all together for the eternities (and I have faith in the covenants I've made that make that possible), I hope we will be comfortable together. We're taught there are no wards or stakes in the Celestial Kingdom, only families. If that's true, then I would like my children to want to be at my table then.

Making the standards our own

In a recent sacrament meeting someone mentioned the idea of making the standards our own. The context was the 13th article of faith, the new Mutual theme for the year. By making standards our own, the speaker was not suggesting that we each develop our own set, but that we adopt the Lord's standards as ours.

As I thought about making the standards our own, I thought about something Sister Allred mentioned in a Relief Society leadership meeting my wife attended a few months ago. She suggested a better title for For The Strength of Youth (the standards pamphlet) would be For The Strength of You because it has value for all church members, not just the youth. (Our local RS president must have taken this to heart. This month's mid-week RS meeting is one in which our ward's young men and young women presented For The Strength of Youth to the Relief Society.)

In John, 17:7 we read, "If any man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God, or whether I speak of myself." I think this is all about making the standards our own, taking those qualities outlined in the 13th article of faith, in the Strength of Youth pamphlet, and throughout the scriptures and living them, internalizing them, feeling their blessings in our lives. In this way, I think we follow Alma's admonition to take the countenance of Christ upon ourselves (see Alma 5:14).

This presupposes, of course, that one accepts "the standards" as what the Savior would have us do. When I have taught standards to the youth, I've suggested they are like the sign at the amusement park that says "you must be 'this' tall to ride." They tell us we where we are striving to go in our behavior to be like the Savior, and to enhance our spiritual lives.

And my own John 17:7 experience has been a positive one.

Friends and Church Activity

In one of our ward councils recently our Young Women's president expressed concern about participation among the youth of our ward.

It's not a new concern, certainly. Anyone who has parented teenagers has worried about how to keep his kids active in church, hoping they'll somehow find that spark of testimony that will propel them to those decisions that will bless their lives in a lasting way.

And most of us who have been there understand that there's no easy answer and there are certainly no guarantees.

A number of years ago, during my service as bishop in a ward that had a fairly large group of young men, we had a summit meeting of sorts with everyone who had anything to do with young men and boys from age 8 – 18. We were concerned about the drop out rate and wondered what (more) we could be doing to stem the tide. (I should point out that we did not discuss young women in this meeting, because we had seven in the ward, all of whom were quite active, but I suspect we could have had a similar discussion about young women and reached similar conclusions.)

We – bishopric, Aaronic priesthood advisers, scout leaders, Primary teachers & leaders, and a few interested parents – gathered for a Saturday morning. We reviewed programs, scriptures and stories of rescues (from the oft-told stories of the rescued handcart pioneers to a dramatic military rescue of a soldier behind enemy lines). We taught ourselves again of the value of these young people and the need to do whatever could be done to reach them.

A sizable portion of our meeting was brainstorming in small groups to generate ideas of what to do next. Everything was on the table from how we organized our scouting activities to assigning adult mentors to rethinking home teaching companionships to the way we collected fast offerings.

My biggest learning from the day was about the value of friends. It seems the kids who did the best had friends at church, and it seems those friendships helped to reinforce positive choices. It wasn't universally true – some kids who seemed to have good friends at church still made poor choices – but particularly for teenagers it seemed critical to have friends who reinforced what the kids had learned at home and at church.

That lesson bore itself out with my own kids over time. Those who had close friendships at church that reinforced the gospel teaching our kids were getting at home stayed truer and tended to make better choices. Those who didn't have those personal connections at church drifted away more easily and found it harder to hang on while waiting for the fire of testimony to ignite.

As I listened to our Young Women's president and to the discussion that followed, I thought about the tough road our kids face. From their parents they see an example of gospel service and the attendant blessings, but there are many other messages they see as well. At some critical times, a parent's voice is not the first one they hear. Or want to hear.

Of course the challenge is how to encourage those friendships. One of the most unnatural acts (especially for kids) is to be "assigned" to make friends.

I welcome your thoughts.