Some thoughts on catechism

I can't remember where I read this story. Was it a blog? A book? I've forgotten. A woman wrote about how she witnessed a scene at church where her sister-in-law confronted and corrected a false teacher. She was able to do this because she had been catechized. This made a powerful impression on me. Someone, by teaching that woman her catechism, gave her the tools to protect herself and others from false teaching in the church. I wanted to do that for my kids.

That was my main reason for learning a catechism. There are others. In the introduction of The New City Catechism, Kathy Keller makes a fine case for learning a catechism, so I won't repeat that here.

The kids and I have been learning the New City Catechism this year. There are 52 questions and the idea is to learn one per week. Seven months into our school year, we are only on question 11, but Silas and Micah are still very young, only 7 and 5, and haven't done much memory work in the past.

These are some scattered thoughts I've had as we've worked to learn together.

First, memorizing a wonderful biblical truth is deeply comforting.

By that I mean it is right there in your mind for you to think on and there is something both calming and joyful about remembering throughout the day: "What is our only hope in life and death? That we are not our own, but belong body and soul, both in life and death, to God and to our Savior, Jesus Christ."

I have to be (as best I can describe it) a tender, loving brick wall.

My kids do not always enjoy reciting their catechism. Sometimes they downright balk at it. Sometimes one child might slouch down in his seat and mumble the answer to the question. Or another one might unwillingly recite "What does God require in the fifth commandment? That we love and honor our father and mother, submitting to their godly discipline and direction" with a huge scowl on his face, while pounding his fist on his leg in a fit of temper.

I couldn't make this stuff up.

Generally speaking, that's homeschool for you. Some days are harder than others. On the bad days I have remain unyielding, like a brick wall, patiently helping them recite the answers over and over. Like most exercises, if we only did it when we felt like it we would have given up a long time ago. On the other hand, I don't have to be mean about it. Probably we are all tired of hearing about The Five Love Languages, at least I am, but even so I see that I have one child who craves physical affection and does his best reciting tucked under my arm while we sit together on the couch. Another child squirms away from hugs and back rubs but seems to need to hear words of praise, so I try to be generous with the affirmation when I see he tries his best.

Review is important.

For me and them. I've found it works pretty well to do one review question each day in addition to practicing the question and answer we are currently working on memorizing. I hope that still works well when we have more that 10 questions behind us.

Do we jump to the punchline too quickly?

I remember memorizing the Ten Commandments as a kid but it was always with the addition of "No one can keep all of these anyway and that's why Jesus died for us." So I didn't worry about the Ten Commandments too much. They didn't seem very important. Now, as the kids and I have spent weeks memorizing the Ten Commandments together and the questions and answers unpacking what they mean, I realize it takes time to understand how dreadfully we have broken God's law and how deeply sin infests our heart. When you skim over the law, it cheapens the gospel. When you understand just how short you have fallen, beyond just a superficial understanding, like "Okay, yeah, so I told a little lie one time. I guess that was bad," then Jesus' sacrifice becomes far more precious. I'm not against sharing the whole gospel with someone quickly. I did it in my children's church class and I would do it again given the chance. I just see more clearly now that there is benefit in taking things slow.

A picture of a place I'd like to live.

The Ten Commandments, if we could actually keep them, paint a beautiful picture. I think it's the life we all want, deep down. For example, "What does God require in the eight commandment? That we do not take without permission that which belongs to someone else, nor withhold any good from someone we might benefit." If we all treated each other like that, life could be wonderful.

Unless the LORD builds the house, the builders labor in vain.

I'm aware that I could have my kids recite catechism until they are blue in the face and it wouldn't do them a bit of good unless God does the work that only he can do in bringing them to himself. So I try to remember, thinking about Psalm 127. I forget who called Psalm 127 a parenting Psalm. That doesn't mean I shouldn't build. Teaching kids God's word isn't bad. In fact, I must build. But neither should I stay up late wringing my hands in fear and anxiety over my children's futures. God is their Redeemer.

Will it breed arrogance?

I got an A in Basic General Chemistry. I got an A in General Chemistry I. I got an A in General Chemistry II. I got an A in Organic Chemistry I... you get the picture. After Gen Chem II I was pretty sure I had this chemistry thing down. I knew it all.

It took a few more years to realize I hadn't even scratched the surface of chemistry knowledge. In fact, I didn't know that much, and to my disgrace, even the things I ought to have learned very well I demonstrated that I didn't know at all, like constructing a simple distillation apparatus in lab. I couldn't even perform a cool chemistry parlor trick like recognizing ascorbic acid (vitamin C, a fairly simple organic molecule) by its structure. I was a little humbler when I finally walked across the stage to receive my diploma.

Kind of in the same way I hope that my children will be wiser than their foolish mother and not become enamored with themselves from a teaspoon of knowledge about the infinite God. But it's possible that may happen and we will have to work through that. Not sure what the answer is yet.

Last, I have a confession. Sometimes I make one child repeat his catechism an extra time just because it's so cute to hear him say "That we do not huwt, or hate, or be hostile to our neighbor, but be patient and peaceful, pursuing even our emenies with wuv." Those emenies.