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Theology is for grown-ups – but what about Mark 10:14, “Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them …” Many people see no contradiction or even tension between these two concepts and this has led to an ever-widening gap between academic theology which takes account of modern scientific advances in knowledge of the world we live in and the presentation of a Jesus figure, friend of little children, who is still depicted by some clergy and Sunday School teachers as living “beyond the bright blue sky.” I remember the tricky negotiations I had to attempt between a frustrated and furious Headmistress of a C. of E. primary school and her Vicar who insisted that, in the worship at the end of a whole term's space project, she include that particular hymn!

And what about the Old Testament? Most of the time we “grown ups” block off the path to exploration of metaphors and myths (in the true meaning of the word) – may Piaget and Goldman be forgiven! – and purvey stories about talking snakes, magic trees, giants and people who lived to be almost 1,000 as if they were history. We even pretend to believe them ourselves, as we do with Father

Christmas when our children are very young. (Of course, some people do believe them in the literal sense, but they are not the ones who bother much about theology – the study of God!)

The result of this dichotomy is, as everyone is always repeating, that children stop believing any of it when they discover that Father Christmas doesn't exist. Of course they do. On one occasion, in my capacity as Visitor to church primary schools, I had to sit through an assembly at which the whole school, pupils from five to eleven years old, was gathered. The story for the day, told well enough, was the story of Noah. The infants enjoyed it no end, picturing two tigers plodding up the gangplank behind two penguins, followed by two polar bears and then two giraffes, etc… But the top classes had either glazed over completely or were smirking cynically at the teachers, feeling quite grown up at colluding with the adults in hoodwinking the little ones.

At the end, I offered to talk to the older pupils, if they could be spared, about the origins and meaning of the story of Noah. We looked at the archeological evidence for a flood (of the whole of the known world) the technological skills of the Sumerians in discovering how to breed plants and animals from the best of the stock, combined with navigation by the stars, etc. and, of course, the greed which prompted them to over-irrigate the fertile crescent between the Tigris and Euphrates, to the point where it was, as we would say, a flood waiting to happen. It is highly probable in those circumstances that a man who was more in touch with the purposes of the Creator than his short-sighted and materialistic neighbours should size up the situation and try to do something about it. The pupils were all ears, and when I asked at the end whether they thought God was right to punish people with a flood, they all said words to the effect that “Miss, it wasn't God who did it – it was the greedy people. God just told Noah what to do. It's just like us and the rain forests.” (The bit about God telling Noah came only from the children from Christian homes – of whatever sort – and the one Muslim boy. The rest agreed, but attributed Noah's wisdom to the insights of a great human being, however they would have described him.)

Let the children indeed come to Christ and let them learn about our Creator and the relationship between Humanity and God, Humanity and the environment, and of human beings with each other from a true understanding (at their own level, of course) of the old stories, from the opening chapters of Genesis to the epistles. I pray that God will give us “grown ups” the wisdom to stop hindering them with mis-representations of the Gospel and God's continuing revelation of divine, creative love, as fiction to be rejected at an ever-younger age., Otherwise, it would indeed be better for us that a millstone be hung around our neck (see Mark 9:42.)

My own teaching programme, from the beginning of Year 6 or 7, used to start with a Fact?/False?/Opinion? Quiz in which the pupils learnt to distinguish between different types of statement and then we would look at how what we believe to be true affects our actions. After that, we would study the different types of language in which statements are made, looking at metaphors, from Genesis, through Psalms, “ The Lord is my Shepherd” to the hymns they sang in assembly, “ Jesus, my Shepherd, husband, friend…” and poetry, e.g. which is more meaningful, “Ubiquitous H2O but zero ml. for ingestion” or the anguished cry of the Ancient Mariner. All this came before the actual Biblical study for their GCSE work because, without that foundation, however hard a pupil might work and however highly motivated she might be, she would be looking at the material through a (metaphoric) distorting lens.

Signs of the Times, MCU, January 2007

Reply by Elizabeth Ashton (Signs of the Times, July 2007) [Top]

I read with much interest the short article by Mary Roe (‘Faith at School', Signs of the Times, January 2007).  The lack of understanding of metaphor to which she refers is very serious indeed, and is perhaps one of the greatest impediments that exists in attempts to understand religion.  My own research and publications concerning Religious Education focus on this very issue.

Firstly, I should like to comment on the problem which arises from the angle of the adult.  It is a great joy to meet adults who have a mature understanding of the working of metaphor in language, and even rarer to encounter literacy regarding the religious use of metaphor.  I believe this is a central reason for religion in schools being taught, in so many instances, only ineffectively.  One feels compelled to add, sadly, that much the same applies to the effect of many church liturgies, which constantly fail to help the worshipper move on in understanding religious metaphor much beyond the attainment of the average seven year old.

Secondly, I have observed over many years of teaching that the usual reaction to children's statements and questions regarding God or Jesus is one of amusement.  Only last week, a very highly qualified musician related to me an anecdote regarding her six year old grandson.  This child asked where Jesus would sit when we have a cloudless sky?  His grandmother was highly amused by this, but I am afraid it represents yet another example of how, when faced with this type of query from a young child, the adult is unable to help thought about religion move forward in ways which help it develop and deepen. The reason, of course, is because the adult occupies rather a similar position to the child!

A sensible response, of course, would be to introduce the child to the idea that 'going up' is not necessarily to rise spatially: that to 'go up' can mean to progress to something more mature, or more difficult.  An example which could be intoduced is to suggest to  'go up into Miss Smith's class does not mean you have to climb stairs, but do more difficult work'.

Perhaps educators would do well to ask themselves why it is that children, even in primary schools can, for example, use sophisticated machines such as computers, whilst remaining at levels in religion where they are frequently content to - indeed are rarely given opportunities to do otherwise than -  think in spatial terms of both God and Jesus, to say nothing of Heaven?

There would be an outcry, quite rightly, if the suggestion was made to stop teaching the four rules of number, for how would children learn to cope with mathematics?  Yet, to find a religious education syllabus which includes work on metaphor, the 'four rules' equivalent in religious understanding, is very difficult to find indeed, and there is no outcry!  Worryingly, few people seem able to define how metaphors work.  Worse still, in popular opinion - and sometimes in 'informed opinion' - metaphors are regularly taken to relate to things which are not real: 'it is just a metaphor'.

Mary Roe is to be warmly congratulated on her short article which draws attention to a vital area of education which has been sorely misunderstood, or unrecognised, from the early years of education.  Perhaps the time is now ripe to develop the Religious Education curriculum as she suggests?

Dr Elizabeth Ashton, formerly a Primary School Teacher, is a recently retired Lecturer in Religious and Moral Education at the University of Durham.  She is the author of many articles on metaphor in religion and books on Religious Education, some jointly with Dr. Brenda Watson.

         
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