Faith on false pretences?

Then people brought little children to Jesus for him to place his hands on them and pray for them. But the disciples rebuked them. Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” When he had placed his hands on them, he went on from there. Matthew 19:13-15

In a recent newspaper article Kemi Badenoch, the leader of the British Conservative Party, explained among other things how she had lost her Christian faith. She had, she said, followed the shocking story of the father who had virtually enslaved his own daughter in his house for over twenty years, and decided that she could no longer believe in any God who could allow such an appalling thing to happen in spite of constant prayer.

Well, you can’t help feeling a certain amount of sympathy, and it’s good that various Christians have responded in helpful and thoughtful ways. But one thing she said that particularly struck me was that, as a child with a strong church upbringing, she had somehow developed the belief that when she prayed, even for quite trivial things - for example, for beautiful hair or for the bus to arrive on time - she could expect that prayer to be answered. And her experience was that sometimes that indeed happened. But now, in adulthood, she couldn’t accept that that young woman’s prayers in such a horribly dire situation had for so long gone unanswered.

Reflecting on her comments triggered a bad memory in my mind.

It was my practice when a young minister to include a “children’s talk” as part of the Sunday morning service. One Sunday I told the story of blind Bartimaeus, and the wonderful love and power Jesus showed in healing him. All that was needed was faith!

A great story. But I made a big mistake. I overlooked the fact that in our congregation we had a lady who had lost her sight in her later years.

Had Mrs Carter been prayed for? Oh yes. Had she been prayed over? Certainly. She had been prayed for in English and in tongues and with laying on of hands. Did she have faith in Jesus? No doubt about that.

Had she been healed? No. No, she hadn’t.

As I stood at the church door after the service, dear Mrs Carter came to me to tell me, very graciously, of her distress: “You have taught the children this morning that I don’t have enough faith…” I felt embarrassed and ashamed and could only mumble an apology. How could I have been so unutterably stupid? Mrs Carter was far more forgiving than I deserved.

The Kemi Badenoch story didn’t only trigger that memory: it also made me think about how we as Christians teach young children the stories of the Bible. We can be in no doubt that Jesus loved children (the story at the top is included in Matthew 19, Mark 10 and Luke 18); he “took them in his arms and blessed them, laying his hands upon them” (Mark 10:13-16).

But – and I had never really noticed this before - nowhere are we told what he said to them, or anything of what he taught them. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to know! Well, we don’t, and that’s that; so it’s up to us to prayerfully work it out for ourselves. I’m not implying any criticism of those who taught Kemi Badenoch as a child – I don’t know what her circumstances were like, and it wouldn’t be for me to judge even if I did. I’m just pointing out that it’s something we should give some serious thought to.

Please forgive me another childhood memory. As a small boy in Sunday School I still remember learning the story of King Solomon and the two women disputing over a dead baby (1 Kings 3). Solomon’s proverbial wisdom is reflected in his gruesome command to take a sword and “cut the living child in two”. It didn’t happen, of course – but that was the whole point of the wise king; he knew maternal love would prevail and make itself known.

But I was a small boy and, well, just learning the story frightened me. Has it scarred me for life? No, thank God; but…

How careful we need to be, especially when so much unsuitable material is readily available on line.

And what about the songs we sing? We are all very concerned - and rightly so – that children should enjoy being in church with us. Long gone are the days when everything was stiff and staid. But is there a danger that we end up teaching them songs which convey unbalanced truths that go well with jolly tunes (probably accompanied by actions)? A new one to me comes to mind, focussing on the sheer power of Jesus; it contains the words “He can heal the sick! He can raise the dead!” followed by “Only He can do this…”

Well yes, he can, thank God. Certainly he has done it in the past. Occasionally, no doubt, he still does it today. But wonderful though this truth is, are we in effect showing children only a tiny part of a far bigger picture? Do we ever go to the trouble of also explaining to them plainly that very often that isn’t what in fact happens? that millions of prayers are offered every day which (seemingly at least) go unanswered?

Are we, in practical terms, setting them up for a Kemi Badenoch-type fall? Could Kemi Badenoch herself have been saved this kind disappointment? Could she, with a steadily deepening and maturing faith, be a solid Christian today?

Father, thank you for the children you have committed to our care and for the privilege of introducing them to Jesus. Give us the wisdom, whether as parents or as teachers, to judge their level of understanding wisely so that we don’t inadvertently feed them only partial truths. Hear us too for Kemi Badenoch, that the response to her remarks may lead her to think again. Amen.