Showing posts with label child abuse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label child abuse. Show all posts

Thursday, June 13, 2019

Foster Love



Let me tell you what love looks like. Love looks like whole heartedly scooping someone into your world to offer them their first taste of safety - knowing that time, or needs, or choices will take them away from you - and your courage holds no part of you back.

Love does not cling. Does not give itself out of need for affirmation or congratulations.

Love leaves a hole when its object outgrows circumstances.

Today, in particular, love looks like parenting. And, in even more particular, it looks like foster parenting.

Love means arms will be lonely when children move to their next reality. Tears will fall over the smell of them in the house. Love cherishes what others see as too much work at too high risk.

Love is grieving deeply at my parents’ house. The foster kids they sheltered have moved into a long term placement. This grief is compounded by other griefs and losses.

I wish I could take the pain away. But to do that, I’d have to fundamentally change who my parents are - and the world, and my siblings, and the fostered littles, and all the people who’ve found shelter there would not have what we have.

Friday, April 1, 2011

Divine Child Abuse

 Jason and I met with some new friends over the weekend and had one of those conversations that lets you know you are not alone, especially in the community of faith (I need this at a time when my understanding of my faith is constantly changing and conflicted). At one point, as we discussed current conservative perspectives on God, Wade accused the popular stance of condoning “divine child abuse.” And then, I got very excited, which I tend to do when I hear something that resonates with my concerns on a subject. (It’s actually kinda funny—I shake a little bit, and start waving my arms and hands. Almost always derails the excellent direction of the conversation.)

I took a distance theology class a few months ago with all the discussions online. The professor asked controversial questions and let the class go at it. Sadly, he expected mainline/mainstream answers, and the class largely complied. He asked “what about those who never hear?” Meaning, where do people “go” who never hear about Jesus? Almost all the class believed these people go to hell—and hey, who are we to question God? If he believes that’s justice, then his ways are not ours, and he’s right. This made me very uncomfortable. The questions were so designed, that if I answered honestly, I could no longer hide the changes in my faith and beliefs. Plus, they revealed the underbelly of common beliefs, but no one seemed bothered to see it. And this question, or the perspective it stems from, contained flaws, just like the majority of the answers.

            1. Is Christianity only about who escapes hell and wins the heaven lottery?
            2. We are allowed to question God.
            3. We say we get our sense of justice from God, then assign to him what would be considered the worst behavior among ourselves.

On the first point, I work constantly to overcome a fundamentalist background, the majority of whose theology revolves around heaven and hell. This life is most important for picking where we’ll spend eternity, and then wracking up extra mansions as we wait for the “real life” beyond. I no longer consider this life a long tunnel on the path to the true life. And maybe I’ll write further about that later. Too much to put in now.

Job questioned God. So did Moses. And the Psalmist. And Luther. And St. Augustine. And me. Not that I’m classing myself with those guys. My point is that questions are fundamental to how humans learn and grow, from childhood. I don’t trust a religion that nixes questions. I’ve been in a religious environment long enough to see what that squelching accomplishes. It encourages personality cults. It allows abuses, of all types, to continue. At a seminary level, it raises people for “ministry” who are untrained in empathy (basic to understanding why an individual might question your faith), and ill-equipped to handle real challenges.

But let’s talk about this “God’s justice is just, even if the same behavior on our part would not be” idea. My 3 youngest siblings were abused. All three prenatally, and two post. Their parents created, then rejected, neglected, and out-right harmed them. This behavior raises a scalding anger in most of us. When I think back on the earliest, and most important messages my little brother got (You aren’t worthy. You aren’t loved. You are unwanted.) I understand better why he can’t love himself. Essentially, the belief that God “saves” only a tiny handful of his creation, sounds like the same type of abuse. We have to acknowledge this because this is exactly how people outside the faith, and increasingly inside, hear it.

I cannot know how God will actually handle this. Just as I can’t know if heaven and hell are literal. And I do believe the question misses the bigger point of what God may be trying to do for his creation in this life. Ultimately, what I believe makes no difference in what will be found true. But what I believe makes all the difference in how I perceive and interact with God. Is it out of fear? Attraction? Anger? I choose to believe the best and accept that my beliefs have no control over his behavior, only mine.

I know this is something of a hot topic (warning: understatement) right now, with Rob Bell’s book just out. Haven’t read it yet, but I’m going too. With others, I found the furor over the book, before it even reached bookstores, amusing. A blog I follow, thebiblicalworld.blogspot.com has just finished a substantial interaction with the book, if you’re interested. Also, Matthew Paul Turner, at jesusneedsnewpr.net has interacted with the subject quite a bit. I enjoyed his response to Mark Driscoll’s insistence on hell in a post titled, remarkably enough, “My thoughts on Mark Driscoll’s hell…” (it's from March 29).