Time

One of the things I love about the Anglican tradition is the liturgical calendar – the idea of rhythm throughout the year. Lent, the weeks from Ash Wendesday to Easter, is a  season of soul-searching and repentance., a time to slow down, take stock, simplify the schedule. Traditionally, the forty days of Lent are meant as an imitation of Jesus’ withdrawal into the wilderness for forty days (Sundays aren’t included in the count, since they commemorate the resurrection. For some, they’re feast days – but that’s a different discussion).

Some years I’ve given up chocolate, or coffee, or sugar, or all three, a way to pull myself back into balance after the binging on cookies through the holidays and Girl Scout cookie season. This year, I chose not to give up any specific thing, but to focus more intentionally on time – really taking time – to think, pray, read, reflect, prepare.

Our church is also focusing on time: life in the balance. And as if by design, the weather has been assisting, with snowfall after snowfall. Today, again, schools are closed, roads drifted, snow falling, wind stirring little cyclones of white that swirl across the yard.

This morning, with coffee in hand, and binoculars nearby to inventory hungry birds venturing through the snow in search of seeds, I’ve been reading Think Orange, a book by Reggie Joiner about the need to weave church and family more closely together. His thesis is that churches on their own are ineffective in discipling children and youth – as he points out, most churches have less than 40 hours a year of direct, strategic interaction with children. That’s probably a generous estimate, and the truth is, not much can be accomplished in such a small, scattered amount of time.

Parents are with their children much more often, more consistently, yet are often less intentional in discipling, hoping the church will accomplish the task. The goal of “Orange” is for the light of the church (yellow) to partner with the red of the family (passion) to achieve a more strategic impact (orange).

I find the color discussion tiresome, but the idea is solid. Without a more intentional partnership with parents, youth ministry has little hope of real fruit.

Joiner quotes a familiar passage:

Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one. Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength.These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates. Deuteronomy 6: 4-9

Focusing in on verse 7, Joiner suggests four key times that parents can intentionally build their children’s faith, and offers four different kinds of conversation:

MEAL TIME When you sit at home

Focused discussion as a teacher to establish core values

DRIVE TIME When You Walk along the Road

Informal dialogue as a friend to help your child interpret life

BED TIME When You Lie Down

Intimate conversation as a counselor to listen to the heart of your child

MORNING TIME When You Get Up

Encouraging words as a coach who gives a sense of value and instills purpose.


(Think Orange p. 72)

I grew up in the care of my grandmother, in her forties when she took on four grandchildren, working a full time job most of our elementary and teen years, and for many years suffering opposition and conflict from an alcoholic, agnostic husband. Yet, my siblings and I, despite our challenges, all grew up with a love of the Christian faith, and a firm trust in God’s word. Looking at the key times Joiner describes, I realize that my grandmother, busy as she was, followed this plan exactly.

She grew up in a single family household herself, ran away from home at thirteen, and spent much time in prayer asking God to show her how to care for the four broken children he placed in her care. Was it scripture that gave her the key to passing on her faith, or God himself, prompting her to build a simple rhythm of faith in a fractured household?

I’m not sure. I am sure God’s system works. Looking back on our own years of parenting, on summers as a camp counselor, on retreats and mission trips, I can see how this rhythm has played out in countless conversations. The most significant passing on of faith, the most personal discipleship, the most memorable moments of spiritual insight, have taken place around kitchen tables, in late night drives to unfamiliar destinations, in pajamas after the lights are out, at the front door seeing a child off to school.

Lord, teach us, continue to teach us, to use our time to share your story, to use our simplest interactions to point our hearts, and the hearts of those we love, toward you.