Natural Born Skeptics

Children are natural born learners. It may not seem that way after they've been in school a few years, but trust me, as Socrates said, "The power to learn is present in everyone' soul." Notice that Socrates located the "soul" as the locus of learning, not the "mind".  How quickly and easily children learn to talk is the universal example of natural learning ability.  If infants and toddlers weren’t naturally curious and attentive, they would never learn the distinction between “Dada” and “doggy”.  All furry things that move, eat and make noises would just be “doggy” – even kitties, hamsters and grandpas. But two year-olds sort out the physical and behavioral distinctions between mommy and daddy, kitty and doggy.  They misname things, but the errors don’t last long. Their ability to discriminate among the sounds of language and the objects and people of their environment allows them to speak the right name to things. 

Not only do they name things, they own them.  The world revolves around them. “I see my big moon,” said my two year-old Sarah.  It wasn’t just a shiny orb in the night sky. It wasn’t earth’s satellite.  It was her moon. Ownership established by her delight and proclamation.

All sorts of things can get in the way of increasing one’s vocabulary and discovering how the world operates.  The obstacles to natural and fast growth of vocabulary tend to be school, parents and grandparents.  Young parents - guard your children’s natural curiosity and desire to learn.  Things get in the way, including you.  You are their protector, but you also are the constant censor of their experiences:  “No . . . Put that down . . . Don’t eat that . . . Stay away from that . . .” Your children are going to challenge your “No’s” and question your reasons and explanations.  Be patient and forgiving.  Toddlers will soon turn into teenagers. For safety reasons, you may have to stand your ground and set limits, but – wait, I didn’t intend this to be a parenting lesson. Back to the children, their ever-growing awareness and curiosity.  Here’s a good story some of you already know:

Sammy the dog gets run over by a car.  I come home one afternoon and 4 year-old Sarah comes running down the driveway.  “Daddy, Daddy, Sammy got dead.”  After some tears and hugs, Sammy gets put in box, wrapped in a baby blanket and buried on the hill in the backyard. After supper, Sarah gets a book and her little red chair and starts out the back door. “Where you going,” Mom asks.  “Out to read to Sammy.”  The book is a picture book titled Bored, Nothing to Do.

Sarah and Sammy

Later in the evening comes the inevitable question, “Mommy, what’s going to happen to Sammy?”  Mommy says that Sammy has gone to live with Jesus.  Sarah’s face droops, “But he’s my dog. I don’t want him to be with Jesus.  He’s my dog.” Whatever Mommy said next was not very comforting to that 4 year-old.  A few days later, Sarah and her best friend dig into the grave, feel under the blanket and confirm that Sammy is, indeed, still in her backyard.  Thank goodness, he’s still her dog.  Not only are children natural born learners, they are natural born skeptics of authority. And that’s a good thing.

There is more to the story of the death of Sarah’s dog. It’s not just about curiosity and authority.  It’s way deeper. Little children may have some spiritual essence, but they certainly are not theological humans.  They, generally, understand the world based on what they can see and touch. They own their world and will not easily give up possession.  Some of us never, not even at the age of 60, give up possession of our world.  Side note: I’ve noticed that some very young children have an innate sense of fairness and concern for others.  For other children, fairness is only whatever is in their best interest.  I’ve seen children take perverse pleasure in hurting animals or people. How our conscience grows and develops is one of life’s profound mysteries, which probably explains why the growth and development of humans belongs to the realm of the spiritual rather than the psychological.

About 28 years ago I wrote about Sarah and the death of her dog in an article for the Macon Telegraph and News. I cannot recall how I ended the article, but it must have involved trying to coach parents about how to explain death and what happens after death. A few days after the article came out I got a six-page letter from a lady that was full of biblical quotes.  She concluded that I needed to reconsider my theology because I was in danger of dying and going to hell.

Twenty eight years later I believe that neither Sarah’s father or mother had much control of her spiritual development.  Not that we didn’t try. But learning about spiritual matters is controlled within our own spirit.  When I review my daughter’s life today, I think things turned out quite well. But learning anything, simple or complex, is controlled within the spirit.  As parents and teachers, we can try to help. We can provide good models, clarity and opportunity.  But it might be easier to get in the way than to help.

Somebody out there is still sure I’m going to hell. That’s their problem.