Our 2008-2009 year of religious education came to a close this week-end with our “RE Sunday”, in which our children and youth shared a little of what they learned during the year with us. In honor of that wonderful occasion, here’s a quote by William Ellery Channing on Religious Education. Channing was a Unitarian Minister in Boston who lived from 1780-1842, and his words on religious education still ring true today. It is worth noting that around the time Channing penned these words Unitarians were not just active in religious education, but were pioneers in the formation of the public school system, which, they hoped, would some day provide access to education for rich and poor alike in our country.
“The great end in religious instruction is:
Not to stamp our minds upon the young, but to stir up their own;
Not to make them see with our eyes, but to look inquiringly and steadily with their own;
Not to give them a definite amount of knowledge, but to inspire a fervent love of truth;
Not to form an outward regularity, but to touch inward springs;
Not to bind them by ineradicable prejudices to our particular sect or peculiar notions, but to prepare them for impartial, conscientious judging of whatever subjects may be offered to their decision;
Not to burden the memory, but to quicken and strengthen the power of thought;
Not to impose religion upon them in the form of arbitrary rules, but to awaken the conscience, the moral discernment.
In a word, the great end is to awaken the soul, to excite and cherish spiritual life.”
William Ellery Channing (1780 - 1842).
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Whether or not it’s true that “’tis better to give than to receive”, I think a lot of us agree that giving can be easier. Giving allows us to feel in control, self-sufficient, able to contribute to someone else. Receiving, on the other hand, involves taking what comes, and realizing that, without the help of others, none of us could possibly get by.
The congregation threw Abbey, me, and the little-guy-to-be the baby shower of all time last week-end. The gifts piled up a quarter of the room, and it took us literally hours to open them all. We are tremendously lucky parents with one tremendously lucky and welcome baby. Who knows what his personality will be, but we already know for sure (G-d willing and the creek don’t rise) that he will be the most well-dressed baby this side of West Hollywood.
It was absolutely wonderful receiving all those presents, which are currently taking up a large portion of our house. We will need them all, eventually, and they’ll remind me of the beloved community at which I serve. Even so, I couldn’t help but think of all the children born in Phnom Penh or Trenton or - well, just about anywhere, really - with nowhere near this abundance. And, though I’m not particularly prone to Protestant guilt, I couldn’t help but think what I had done to deserve all this goodness. Preach a few nice sermons? Show up? And all this is for us? What a blessing!
The morning after the baby shower, I awoke to the sounds of my in-laws working in our back garden. They had come down for the shower and stayed with us, and now they were determined to push-mow the thigh-high grass, install a table and chairs, and plant strawberries and tomatoes. Waking up to discover someone else is doing something on your behalf is a rare luxury, it seems to me, reserved for kings and queens, very lucky parents on their birthdays, and lovers who are still eager to impress. Now I can add those with determined and ecological in-laws. I looked out at my rapidly evolving back yard and thought to myself, “if you ever think you’re in this alone, you need to step out here. Or take a look at that baby, and realize, though a little about him may come from you and Abbey, there’s so much that comes from so many.” I hope I long remember this fact.