As Little Children

"‘Except,’ said Christ, ‘ye become as little children’—and the words are sometimes quoted to justify the flight into infantilism. Now, children differ in many ways, but they have one thing in common. Peter Pan—if indeed he exists otherwise than in the nostalgic imagination of an adult—is a case for the pathologist. All normal children (however much we discourage them) look forward to growing up. ‘Except ye become as little children,’ except you can wake on your fiftieth birthday with the same forward-looking excitement and interest in life that you enjoyed when you were five, ‘ye cannot see the Kingdom of God.’ One must not only die daily, every day one must be born again."

Dorothy L. Sayers, Strong Meat

"...wake on your fiftieth birthday with the same forward-looking excitement and interest in life that you enjoyed when you were five..." We might even expand this a bit: "as little children" might mean more than just physical immaturity: Adam and Eve were physical adults, but they were infants in understanding and experience. Just so, we were once "children" in areas like marriage, work, and parenting. (In an instructive phrasing, theologian James Jordan says that, from one perspective, the early Church "Fathers" were actually "Church Babies.") 

When considered this way, it's interesting to think how many areas of life Sayers' observation might apply to. Do we still approach our work and calling with the same zeal as when we were twenty-five? Do we still enter our marriage bed with the same passion as on our wedding night? Do we still spend as much time with our kids as when they were toddlers and we were new parents? Do we still gaze on the mysteries of the world with the same wonder as when we were three? Do we still look to the future with the same hope as when we were eighteen?

Such an attitude does not come easy. But if Sayers is right in her application of Christ's words, we have no option but to try.

Birthday Poems: Nathanael 2013

My eldest daughter has been asking me to post all the family poems here on this blog, so I'm going to begin making more of an effort to get more of the poems for all the kids published here (lately, I've been focusing more on William's, since his birthday was recently). Here's one written for Nathanael's seventh birthday, two years ago. The reference to the missed poem from the previous year is a theme you'll see in all the other poems written that year. There's a reason for that, but it's not important to go into here.

Stronger

A Poem for Nathanael’s Sixth…and Seventh…Birthdays

May 3, 2013

WCN

It’s true—I really should be jailed:

Forgive me, son, for I have failed

As poet of the home.

This day last year, when you turned six,

When, from my rhyming bag of tricks,

I should have grabbed poetic bricks

To build your birthday poe’m,

I didn’t—and the reason why

Would make a heartless giant cry,

In pity for my woes;

But let’s not bring that up again!

Please, just forgive me for my sin

(Or, if it will augment your grin,

Just punch me on the nose!)

But now, your birthday’s here again,

You’re six from thirteen, three from ten

(That’s seven, in my view);

By writing at the end of year,

I can look back on all the cheer,

On every joy and every fear,

On how you changed and grew.

But I can also look ahead,

To things you’ve not yet done or said

Which you should not (or should);

But first the past: look back with me:

A stronger boy is what I see,

In faith, in hope, in loyalty,

In loving what is good.

  

You’re more mature, your wisdom grows;

And like a wind that always blows,

Your mind moves all around;

Asking questions, seeking facts,

For anything your knowledge lacks,

You’re always filling in the cracks

Of Understanding’s ground.

And yet, I ought to caution you,

That something else is stronger too—

I wonder if you know?

As you grow strong in love and grace,

An enemy that you must face

Is right behind and keeping pace—

Keep close your shield and bow.

Temptation is the villain’s name:

A foe of rather famous name,

I’m sure you’ve heard of him;

So in the year that’s up ahead,

The Year of your First Wine and Bread,

Don’t let him fill your heart with dread,

To make your hope grow dim.

Press on in all that’s sound and true,

In hard things that are good for you,

Do not despise the rod;

As I have seen your love for me

Grow like the first Edenic tree,

More than all else I look to see

Your stronger love for God.

Birthday Poems: William 2015

Here's William's new Birthday Poem, late but finally finished. I just read it to him (and the family) last night, and it opened to rave reviews. The image, and the phrases, "Drums in the Deep," and "The Beater of the Drums" are from Tolkien. The form and rhythm of the poem were inspired by Lepanto, by G. K. Chesterton.

Drums in the Deep

A Poem for William on His Twelfth Birthday, July 19, 2015

Given July 30, 2015

Far in the distance, hear the drums in the deep:

Harrowing your waking hours, haunting in your sleep;

Booming from the caverns where the dark spirits delve;

Threatening and throbbing on the day that you turn twelve.

Drawing ever closer as they drum out their hate,

Pound the reckless rhythm as they ponder your fate;

Surety of victory—in confidence he comes:

Madness in his burning eyes—the beater of the drums.

Feel the drums thundering, and thudding in your chest,

Heralding the breaking and the burning of the West;

Warning of the onset of the enemies of Faith;

Crying out the coming of the terror-kindled Wraith.

***

Hear the loud thunder of the Three and the One:

Drowning out the drumming ere the battle is begun;

Filling all the battlefield with Fury and with Fear;

Now He’s calling out—He’s calling you—to fight and persevere.

Far in the distance hear the drums in retreat:

Beating out the broken signal of their blistering defeat;

Moaning in their misery, the fury of His eyes

Burning down upon the devils as they fly in sick surprise.

Hear your heart beating as you hold to your ground:

Now you’re tearing out the terror, lest it trap you and confound;

Resolving that the fear will find no home there evermore,

For this is but the End of the Beginning of the War.

Hear your proud father, as he pounds with his pen

A birthday poem for his son—the time has come again;

Proud, but much more thankful, that this son bears still a Sword:

Carrying the Covenant, the Banner of the Lord.

Birthday Poems: William and Nathanael 2010

Here's another poem written for William, along with his brother, Nathanael: I combined their poems this particular year (2010). Inspired by John Milton's Comus, this is one of my all-time favorites.

Band of Brothers

A Poem for Nathanael, on the Occasion of His Fourth Birthday (May 3, 2010); and William, on the Occasion of his Seventh Birthday (July 19, 2010)

Given, With Love, By Your Father

Nathanael:

Well, here we are, just me and you,

There’s only two of us.

We boys, I mean: there’s only two;

Two brothers: we are small and few;

Whatever can we hope to do?

William:

Now, don’t despair, don’t fuss!

It’s true that we’re not army-size:

We can’t besiege a town.

But like the knight who charges, dies,

With noble luster in his eyes,

That gold and silver never buys;

And takes the foeman down;

So you and I are richly blessed

With courage from our Lord;

I’ve seen you, brother, sorely pressed,

Yet rise with valor, meet the test;

And you and I shall meet this Quest,

Come fire, death, or sword.

Nathanael:

Thanks, brother; now I’m set to try

To take the heights above;

For just two brothers—you and I—

By God’s dear grace may crack the sky;

We may not win but we can die,

To save that which we love.

As Jonathan and his servant went

Against a mighty crew;

So now two brothers have been sent,

To force the wicked to relent;

‘Til all heart-treasures have been spent;

And hearts are piercéd through.

William:

Well said, my brother! Now look to

The sword of steel you wear; 

Whatever can we hope to do?

Nathanael:

Nay, here were are, we happy few:

A band of brothers, small, but true;

A noble cross to bear.

Narrator:

Then bursting through the door to Hell,

Where Sorcery held sway;

Two brothers with a mighty yell,

Sent serpents spinning, beasts pell-mell;

And drave the Devil, tales do tell,

And nobly won the day.

Thus set they free their sisters twain,

Who, captured in the wood,

Refused the wizard’s cup to drain;

To keep their hearts from every stain;

And were enchanted for their pain,

For clinging to the Good.

And now the four walked hand in hand,

Walked in the dying gloam;

And knew not all that yet was planned,

Of twinkling stars and grains of sand:

That more would join their little band,

To grace their little home.

Family Lore: Kindling a Love of Story in Children

Here's a bit of information on an upcoming ebook release (later this Summer, hopefully). Stay tuned.

I am convinced that storytelling, so carefully woven into human nature by our Creator, is becoming a lost art to most of us, as we continue to outsource our storytelling needs to the movie-and-book making professionals. Nothing wrong with enjoying a good film or novel, of course; but something vital is lost when storytelling is no longer reflected in the life of churches and families. Better that we tell our own stories, however poorly, than to completely surrender this important work to the self-styled professionals.

Thus this little book, Family Lore: Kindling a Love of Story in Children. In seven short chapters, we’ll explore the importance of Story in the lives of children, and examine specific strategies for building a storytelling culture in our homes. The book is designed to be practical in nature: the last chapter is entirely devoted to suggestions you can put to work to help guide your kids in their growing love of Story. While the book is primarily written with parents in mind, the ideas here can certainly be used in classroom settings (day school or Sunday School) as well.

The Nicholas Book: A Legend of Santa Claus

 

I'm also posting here information on my books, in order to have a landing page for them, and for those who want more information on them. Here's one for a book I wrote for my kids, The Nicholas Book: A Legend of Santa Claus.

Pastor Douglas Wilson tells of a family who told their little girl that Santa Claus was not real, and received this reply: "Is Jesus real?" In a world filled with doubters and skeptics, who needs one more thing to confuse our children?

On the other hand, I, like many, grew up with the Santa Claus legend and very much enjoyed it. But because of stories like Pastor Wilson's, I was concerned to think carefully about what I taught my children concerning Saint Nicholas. For several years, I remained relatively silent on the issue, not saying much of anything about the Santa Claus legends one way or another. Eventually, of course, I had to take the time to settle the matter. To work through my own views on the various Christmas legends surrounding St. Nicholas, and to discover just what I needed to teach my children, I wrote The Nicholas Book: A Legend of Santa Claus.

If it comes down to a choice between losing Santa or losing Jesus, then Santa will have to go. But if it was possible to keep the Santa story, then I needed a story my children could grow into—not a story they would be forced to grow out of. As it stands now, children have to grow out of the Santa story, which is a sure sign that something is wrong. But it doesn't have to be that way. The great G. K. Chesterton said it well:

"What has happened to me has been the very reverse of what appears to be the experience of most of my friends. Instead of dwindling to a point, Santa Claus has grown larger and larger in my life until he fills almost the whole of it."

The best things of childhood are not lost when we become grownups: if they are truly worthwhile, we can keep them, albeit in a different form. But if the Father Christmas story was to be something my children could grow into, then that meant giving the story back to Legend and Mystery.

What am I trying to achieve with this book? It can be expressed in two ways:

First, I am trying to retain for my children the wonder, excitement, and joy of the Saint Nicholas legend, but in a better version of the story, and without lying to my children.

Second, I am trying to turn my children’s eyes back to Bethlehem, and away from the North Pole, but without killing the magic. For the death of magic is always accompanied by the birth of unbelief.

Here's the official description of The Nicholas Book:

"Journey back to small town America in 1959, as the story follows the adventures of Joshua and Rachel Kirk, two kids who set off on a quest to learn the truth about Santa Claus. Hearing of a mysterious book that may answer their questions, they head for The Old Page Bookshop; but on the way, they are pursued by enemies, one who wants revenge, and one who wants only the Book. To find the truth, Joshua and Rachel will have to face their fears, and learn to see the magic of the world with new eyes."

How can your family use and profit from this book? First, I would encourage you to read it with your children, every Christmas. It's a fairly short book, and if you read three chapters a night, you can finish it in less than a week. If you have a limited amount of time to read at night, just read a chapter or two, and spread it out over the two or three weeks of December leading up to Christmas. You can even read it after Christmas Day: after all, the traditional Twelve Days of Christmas begin on Christmas Day.

Second, the book was written to grow with your children, so that they will get something different out of it when they're ten or twelve than when they're six or eight. The Nicholas Book was written to replace the secular myth, but it also includes allusions to some of the modern-day stories, like the North Pole, and reindeer, so that you can keep those, if you choose, in your own family lore. Children will hear a new, and, I hope, engaging, version of how the secular myth fits in with the traditional legends, as they journey through The Nicholas Book.

As noted above, the two heroes of our story, Joshua and Rachel Kirk, discover an old book that tells (retells, actually) the story of Saint Nicholas. That story is important, and it will help you in teaching your children a Christian view of Santa Claus: the old book that they read symbolizes the Santa Claus story itself. Saint Nicholas belongs both to history and legend: the legendary elements we treat differently, as something surrounded by mystery, something that may or may not be true. In this legendary sense, children can choose to believe it or not; but either way, they must not miss the truth of Bethlehem, and the undoubted magic that is going on around them.

To purchase your own Kindle version of The Nicholas Book: A Legend of Santa Claus, click here. And remember, even if you don't own a Kindle, you can read Amazon Kindle books on your computer or phone. Click here to get your free Kindle app.

Birthday Poems: William 2013

I'm trying to gather all the past poems and stories I've written for my wife and kids and post them here, to give them a more permanent home. My oldest son William turned 12 a few days ago, so I thought I'd post one I wrote for him a couple of years ago, when he turned ten. I think this is clear enough from the poem, but I had missed writing his birthday poem the year before, which is the reason for the apology in the first stanza. Anyway, here it is.

The Builder

A Poem for William on His Tenth Birthday

By His Father, July 19, 2013

My son, draw near, and listen for a while,

To words I trust are worthy and worthwhile;

But first, confession: last year, as you know,

Your birthday poem simply did not show;

The annals of these years will thus reveal

A chasm at that point; for this I kneel

In penitence; for writing thus for you

May prove the best of all the work I do.

But now, with your forgiveness, let me speak

About a special day that falls this week:

Your birthday: you are ten years old today,

And of the many things that I could say,

There’s one that, like the tallest tree, stands out;

Like towers of a terrible redoubt;

A fitting image, for I know your heart:

To build: with skill, with cleverness, with art.

What churches, houses by your hand shall rise?

What towers to adorn the canvas-skies?

Shall new cathedrals wake in time to come?

What kind of builder will my son become?

And if your double calling yet holds true—

That God also a pastor makes of you—

Then, toiling in the sacramental guild,

What spiritual tower will you build?

But if you build, then build with more than stone:

For you may have a family of your own;

So build, therefore, a strong and noble life,

And give it to your children and your wife;

Then build a legacy to leave behind,

That generations now unborn may find;

Remember, as you build in wood and sod,

That city whose great builder is our God.