I would love to get your thoughts on this.
http://conservativechristianity.wordpress.com/2010/07/01/the-god-of-fun/
The God of Fun
By David
When we think about the affections, we are thinking about what our hearts value: their desires, inclinations, dispositions, and tastes.
One value which we seem to seek to shape in our children is the value of fun. Fun is an unquestioned, undisputed right of children. When we think of children, it seems we regard fun as the greatest good.
Fun, fun, fun. Learning at school must be fun, and curriculi are now judged on how much fun they make the learning process. School holidays must be fun, and a veritable industry of holiday activities and entertainments now exists. Sports must be fun, and it is the supposed inherent fun of beating others at games that I suppose makes sports so central to our culture. Eating breakfast must have fun pictures on the box, fun toys inside and fun sugary food to boot. Observe the mountain of toys in the average Western child’s bedroom. What he or she needs most is fun, and Mom and Dad will buy it. Brushing our teeth must be done with fun-shaped toothbrushes, and fun-tasting toothpaste. Bathing must include toys, so that fun may be had in the act of cleaning oneself. Pajamas must have fun pictures on them, and so must the blankets. And at the top of this fun-list is television. Television producers have been masters at satisfying and creating the appetite for fun. Immediate, interesting, amusing, startling, comical, rambunctious images keep the fun going. And a child without a steady diet of TV has no fun, you see.
Perhaps I am not exaggerating when I say that our culture regards fun as the greatest good when it comes to children. Fun is the supreme goal for children. I am not sure at what point this supreme value loses its centrality, but at some point, the bored young humans are introduced to the truth, “Life’s not all about fun, you know!” This cynical statement is a rather heartless and violent introduction to reality, since nothing in all the child’s existence could have revealed this fact. From the rising of the sun to the going down of the same, the child is to have fun.
I don’t know all the origins of this fun-as-supreme-value ethic. I suspect much of it began with Romanticism’s idealising of the child as the paragon of innocence and virtue, and therefore thinking it deserving of a childhood of uncomplicated play. However, as a parent and pastor, I am concerned with how this idea will shape the religious imagination of my children, and the children in my congregation. I’m worried about how teaching our children to love fun above all else will become a major stumbling-block to their worship. Because the fun-ethic has not escaped church life.
Observe what we ask our children when they come out of Sunday School. “Did you have fun?” Indeed, that’s what we expect from our children’s programmes: fun. The materials must be colourful and fun to look at. The activities must be interesting and fun to do. Fun games need to be played. The songs must be full of movement, comical gestures and catchy tunes. They must be fun to sing. The lessons must be funny, zany and fun to listen to. And we judge them a success if our children return with the ultimate value statement: “That was fun!” When someone has a talent for fun-making, we remark, “He’s really good with the children!” Yes, if a child thinks church is fun, they will like it. And hopefully, we reason, they’ll become Christians.
The problem is this: at what point, and in what way, do we graduate our children to the understanding that God is not fun? The fear of the Lord is not a “fun” experience. Singing “Holy, Holy, Holy” is not fun. One thinks of words like sobriety, awe, hope, or adoration to describe the experience, but fun is not one of them. Preparing sermons is not fun. I enjoy doing it, and am greatly enriched by the intense study of God’s Word. But it isn’t fun, like Tetris, or playing fetch with my dog. Nor is listening to a patient explanation of God’s Word. Illuminating, encouraging, disturbing, challenging, provocative, perhaps, but not fun. Prayer is not fun. Intense concentration, focus and meditation on God’s revealed character is penetrating, revealing, satisfying, exhilarating and exhausting. But it is not fun. And the Lord’s Supper is never fun. Daunting, intimidating, heart-rending, welcoming, refreshing, but never fun. Worship is not fun, and yet we think fun is the key to creating little worshippers.
We face several large obstacles to overcome the fun-ethic.
First, our culture simply takes it for granted. It is the way we do things. Therefore, to question it is to disturb the way the machine runs.
Second, pragmatism guides our methods. We want our children to be in church, and to worship, so we figure that fun ought to be brought in to hook them on church. This is not different from using rock and pop music, promising your best life now, or offering a car raffle in the foyer of the church. We think that ends justify means.
Third, we create and sustain this appetite in so many ways outside of church. I grew up in the fun culture, and pass it on without thinking. But what did children do before the world smothered them with its overflowing, laughing box of fun in the last two centuries? They found things to do and make. They learned things. They helped at home. Where they could, they read. They played music with their families. They worshipped at church. And they played. In other words, they were little humans preparing for their adult lives. We, on the other hand, consciously look for ways to entertain and amuse our children, to keep the fun levels high.
If the affections of our children seek fun above all else, they have inordinate affections. And it is up to those who shape children to think about how to shape what they value.
We are always shaping our children’s affections, by what we love, and what we expect from them. If we expect them to not only play, but work and serve, they learn that fun is not central to life. If we insist that they must learn, even when that learning is not fun, we teach them what learning is like in real life. If we send them out to amuse themselves with sticks and rocks and mud and dead birds, like children always have, we shape them to find and create enjoyment, not wait for it to be given to them. And more to the heart of the matter of the affections: if we teach them to be motivated by the truth, goodness and beauty of things and actions, we teach them to value things for what they are, not merely for what they supply. If we remove fun as the governing arbiter of value, we prepare them to love things for what they are worth, not merely for what kind of ephemeral thrill they provide. If we insist that they learn to live with their boredom with worship, we teach them to postpone their judgement on what they do not yet understand. In other words, we prepare them to be worshippers, not consumers.
And perhaps we will see them still worshipping in twenty years.
4 comments:
I'm not sure who the author of this is.
It's not me.
My initial reaction to this is enthusiastic applause. The main thrust of it - that a good portion of American society has created a childhood culture in which 'fun' is the supreme value, and that this culture should be severely questioned - I feel is true. His statement of what we ask our children when they come out of SS is right on the mark, 'Did you have fun?' We wouldn't ever say that's our first priority for children's sunday school, but the fact that we ask that first reveals that we expect that to be just that for the kids. And if they're satisfied then maybe they won't hate church and pick up something about the Bible or God on the way.
But a few counter-points:
1. If some parents have Romanticized an idyllic and fun childhood, he has Romanticized a stoic, hard-working, one-room schoolhouse, uphill-both-ways, cow-milking, egg-gathering, snow-shoveling, sticks-for-guns childhood. This is the childhood of 'little humans preparing for their adult lives.' Well, yes, but did the children of that beautiful yesteryear really play that much less than children today? And was their play industrialized into a preparation for adulthood? If children really are playing more in a disproportionate amount, or if they're doing no work around the house, his point stands. But if the point is that children's play used to be so much more wholesome or helpful, or the difficulties in their lives used to be so much more beneficial, then I think he's admiring a generalized relic more than actually pointing to a better time.
Children have always had a more of a taste for fun than adults in general, and always will. But is this a defect of childhood character or a defect of adult character? Is it more likely the case that a universal sociological mutation (namely the spoon-feeding of overstimulation), has caused children to want more fun, or that a universal sociological mutation (namely sin and the built up weight of the effects of sin), has caused adults to want less? It's probably true that children love fun more than adults for the same reason that they hate pain more than adults: adults have built up a strengthened immunity to both. But it can't be all evil that adults don't want more fun. Different stages of life bring different tastes and tolerances.
2. On the Romanticism point, I think his speculation of it as the source of the fun culture is wrong. Romanticism? What parent who has created a "culture of fun" is thoughtful enough to even know what Romanticism is? Maybe there were a few extremeists, but that seems far-fetched as the truest and most common cause. When I drive by a yard stacked high with dirty, forgotten, broken plastic toys I don't think 'Ah! Romantic!' but 'What a lazy parent.' It takes work to direct the raw, unfiltered energy of a child (which they have by no fault of their own) into constructive, beneficial, enjoyable currents. Throwing more toys at them or sitting them in front of a TV doesn't point to a perversion in the tastes of the child so much as to a failure in the choices of the parent.
3. On this point, could it be that adult culture has made a failure in the opposite direction? I think that we can display laziness in both directions. Think about putting together a child's lesson. You have two options on the fun-spectrum: total crazy wildness or complete boredom. I've been in children's classes of both kinds. One so crazy that you would think a group of ADHD kids went to a mosh pit and got served 5-hour energy drinks. Another so boring that most adults would fall asleep during it. The easy thing is to do either. Deluge or bone-dry. I think we would all agree we need balance. So then why is it that fun almost never enters our minds when we think of constructing an adult lesson? I appreciate that kids demand a bit of fun in their lives. I see it as no great compliment to adults that they can sit like stone through an hour long sermon, bored to tears but able to maintain at least an appearance of ambivalence while entertaining themselves or going unconscious silently in their heads. They have learned 'to live with their boredom with worship' - and those who have taught them have been horrifyingly successful. Children wouldn't stand for that; they would do something like pinch the girl next to them just to create a diversion. A lot of bad pastors would be forced to get better or quit if their adult audiences took the same strategy. If some parents are being lazy by structuring their kids' worlds around low-boredom tolerance, could it be that the same parents are being lazy by structuring their worlds around high-boredom tolerance?
But it can't be only a natural and healthy taste for fun that makes children demand more of it and able to stand less of the other states of being that he mentioned, like awe, reverence, and devotion. Children are not ready for some things. A 1-year old should not be sitting still in a service contemplating the majesty of God and singing Holy Holy Holy. She should be crawling around on her mother's lap or in the nursery playing with blocks. She should not be taught to live with her boredom with worship. She should not go home and eat steak with the adults and finish with a cup of hot black coffee. She is not ready for it and she won't appreciate it. She should have mashed potatoes and juice with a big chunky pink fork and a blue sippy cup with dolphins on it because its appropriate.
That's a lot of criticism but I hope it brings the idea a little closer to what's true, instead of coming out against the idea altogether. This isn't a single-decision question so it can't be answered in a single post or response. How much fun a parent or caregiver should encourage in their children's lives (or their own for that matter) is a question of daily decision. When should the child sit through the service and be in awe of God rather than go off to the nursery? How many toys should we give our children? 'Sticks and rocks and mud and dead birds' - I feel bad for this guy's kids.
I just wish he did two things: 1) make appropriate allowances for appropriate seasons of life, using all things (like games and TV and all) to grow toward godliness, and 2) point beyond fun so that we aren't insisting 'that they learn to live with their boredom with worship' but that we're insisting that God is infinitely interesting and ultimately satisfying, which is far better than fun.
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