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Zadok Paper S100 Winter 1999
Less Observed Sources of Spirituality
in Children
by Glenn Cupit
Human artefacts in the transmission
of faith
To appreciate fully the gospel, children
must recognise how deeply God values each human person and the intimacy
of relationship he always intended should exist between them and him.
Unless they identify the "image of God" in people, they will
devalue themselves and others, fail to grasp the enormity of sin and the
extent of human estrangement, and be unable to accord the sacrifice of
Jesus an essential dimension of its significance. As God's first act in
the Bible is creation (Genesis 1:1), human creativity is a fundamental
expression of this image.8 It is also an activity where it is easy to
evidence the marring of that image.
Evangelical thought struggles with the idea of spirituality vested in
or channelled through a built environment or constructed object. Catholic
and Orthodox theology is less constrained. To the secular mind it is a
nonsense,9 as evidenced in its absurd use in the film Raiders of the Lost
Ark. Ironically, the reason for that film's featuring the Ark of the Covenant
is the mystery and spiritual power that surrounds it in the Old Testament
record. It is the most obvious biblical example of God working through
a constructed object.
The detailed design of the ark is attributed to Yahweh as an essential
element of the theophany at Sinai. Its construction is the first step
in the construction of the Tabernacle where Yahweh will live among his
people (Exodus 25:7-15). It was to contain the tablets of stone inscribed
by the very finger of God (Exodus 25:16; 31:18). Bezalel who constructed
it is the leader of the select band of individuals 'singled out' by Yahweh
and "filled . . . with the Spirit of God" (Exodus 35:30-31;
37:1-5).10 Yahweh could be expected to "appear in a cloud on the
throne of mercy" on top of the ark, making any approach extremely
perilous (Leviticus 16:2). God is even concerned about how the ark is
wrapped for transport (Numbers 4:5-6). Moses hears God speak to him from
"above the throne of mercy which was on the ark of the Testimony"
(Numbers 7:89). The writer of Numbers feels it is significant to note
following a major defeat that "neither the ark of the covenant nor
Moses" had been with the warriors. This debacle in the absence of
the ark presages a series of 'wonders' whereby the ark is used to fulfil
the will of Yahweh.11
In the story of Samuel, it is indicated that, "Samuel was lying in
the sanctuary of Yahweh where the ark of God was when Yahweh called"
(1 Samuel 3:3-4). Its reputation for significant spiritual power is attested
by the desire of Israeli troops to carry the ark into battle to reverse
a defeat and the consternation of their enemies on hearing of its presence(1
Samuel 4:1-10). The subsequent Israeli rout led to the Philistines capturing
the ark. On her deathbed the daughter of Eli, priest of the Tabernacle,
responded to this news: "The glory has gone from Israel because the
ark of God has been captured" (1 Samuel 4:19-22). Though the Israelis
cannot manipulate the ark to their own ends, the consequence of its capture
is havoc wreaked wherever it is taken, until it is returned to a suitable
sanctuary. It proves too hot to handle for the Philistines of Ashdod,
whose temple is left a shambles; of Gath, where it engenders panic; of
Ekron, who saw it as a plot to kill them; and even for the Israelis of
Bethshemesh, where one family suffered for responding inappropriately
to its return (1 Samuel 5:1-6:21). Years later, an act of lèse
majeste, swiftly dealt with, is sufficient to intimidate David against
taking the ark into his citadel for three months. He is reassured by the
blessing the ark brings to its temporary caretaker (2 Samuel 6:6-12).
When David considers building a home for the ark, Yahweh clearly identifies
himself with the object, "Are you the man to build me a house to
dwell in?" (2 Samuel 7:1-7). In similar vein, it is only after the
ark is placed in Solomon's temple that the cloud of God's presence fills
the building (1 Kings 8:6-11). Solomon concludes his dedicatory prayer:
"Rise Yahweh God, come to your resting place, you and the ark of
your power" (2 Chronicles 6:41).
It is not that the ark, or any artefact, stores spiritual efficacy like
a battery, as in its Hollywood incarnation. Rather, it is an agency through
which God's Spirit chooses to act. It has no power except as a chosen
mediator of God's presence. Consequently, once the temple is built, the
ark ceases to play a prominent role in the nation's and individuals' experience
of God. Its removal from the temple goes unremarked in Scripture. We only
know it had been, because Josiah made its return an act of significance
(2 Chronicles 35:2-3). We do not even know the eventual fate of the ark,
though its loss was popularly felt as a sign of God's displeasure. Jeremiah
reassures his people that its presence would not be required in the restoration
that would follow their repentance (Jeremiah 3:14-18).
This cycle where God uses an object, the people invest their faith in
the object rather than God, and it suffers ignominious destruction is
repeated in the story of Moses' bronze serpent. Despite its hallowed place
in the history of the Exodus (Numbers 21:4-9) it was smashed by the reforming
king Hezekiah because its spiritual power had been personalised and it
was being worshipped as the god Nehushtan.(2 Kings 18:4)
Once built, the temple superseded the ark. It was understood that God
dwelt in his temple and acted from its precinct.12 Vows and prayers are
preferably to be offered in, or, at least, oriented towards, the temple.13
It is a place which stimulates praise and piety; where prophets hear,
and, sometimes, see, God; a potent symbol in prophetic vision.14 Its destruction
precipitated a major spiritual crisis; it was, after all, "a copy
of high heaven" (Psalm 78:69). Its restoration was taken as an indication
of re-established favour with God.15
As with the ark, the temple's virtue does not reside in masonry, but in
God's choice, and may well be withdrawn.16
The ark and the temple were major features of the Old Testament system
of worship. Such cannot be said for items of Paul's personal apparel,
yet: "So remarkable were the miracles worked by God at Paul's hands
that handkerchiefs or aprons which had touched him were taken to the sick,
and they were cured of their illnesses, and the evil spirits came out
of them" (Acts 19:11-12).
The context of this remarkable report is the introduction to the story
of the sons of Sceva (Acts 19:13-20). Jewish exorcists attempt to confront
spiritual evil without really understanding the source of spiritual good.
Without God's Spirit, invocation of the name of Jesus is useless, even
with Paul thrown in, and it actually proves dangerous. With God's Spirit,
a mere cloth will suffice.
I emphasise the scriptural teaching that God's Spirit works through artefacts,
because it indicates the danger of limiting his forms of activity to those
of human persons. This is not magic. No power to compel God, or his creation,
resides in the artefact. Efficacy depends on God's use of the object as
a channel. Nor does this justify the veneration of any artefact; the story
of Moses' serpent precludes that.
Recognition of the Spirit's use of human artefacts is implicit in Christian
architecture. Mediaeval cathedrals were 'sermons in stone'. Most churches,
except the starkly puritan, incorporate some form of object to stimulate
worship or piety: Orthodox iconography, picture windows, sentimental paintings,
altars, elevated pulpits, statues, crosses, communion tables, commemorative
boards and plaques, chalices, vestments, banners, flower arrangements
and so on. Even the Shakers, renowned for the economy of their architecture,
saw this as an expression of the spiritual value of simplicity.
The long experience of the Christian community is that the Spirit can,
and often does, work through such items. I retain vivid memories of the
'Jesus whose eyes follow you around the room' which haunted visits to
a suburban Baptist Sunday School. For me, it visualised Jesus' compassion.
For some evangelicals, the Bible has powerful iconic relevance, even when
shut.
WE SHOULD NOT BE surprised if children experience the work of God's Spirit
in the artefacts of faith. Taking a child into a church, or giving them
a crucifix will not, of itself, bring them to faith. Nevertheless, such
devices may serve as a focus for the Spirit's work; and not only such
objects of Christian piety. The act of creation is a spiritual act and
expresses the spiritual influences at work within the artist. Any creative
artist whose artefacts express joy, a love of beauty and form, an affirmation
of life and goodness, or a desire to enhance human welfare, can only do
so in response to the prompting of God's Spirit and so may, even inadvertently,
contribute to the Spirit's work. Equally, there are artefacts of the faith
community which are ugly, mean, florid, cheap, tawdry or uninspired and,
therefore, demean the very nature of the one they claim to honour.
This is another area where apprehension relies on direct experience. To
tell children that people create great beauty and delight cannot compare
with allowing them to sense that beauty and share that delight. I could
never understand why people raved about symphony orchestras, which I heard
on radio with no great pleasure, until a school excursion placed me in
front of the Sydney Symphony Orchestra in the Town Hall and experienced
the almost tactual sense of massed instrumental sound. Such exposure to
creative beauty may be on a grand scale, as in a Beethoven symphony or
a Taj Mahal, or at a domestic level, as in a good meal17 or the flax playthings
that Maori mothers make for their children.
We have only to recall our childhood to recognise how important artefacts
are to children. I remember minute details of the house in which I grew
up, a toy sword my father made me, and two wooden axes I made myself,
a tatty old stuffed black dog called Scotty and a ride-on horse called
Mary.18 There were many others, and I am sure you call to mind similar
objects of affection. Toys are probably the most important artefacts for
children, but not the only ones. I also recall the tent that occasionally
released us from city life, our piano, my first short school pants and
the enormous (probably about 1.3 metres high) oval mirror directly opposite
our front door in which our appearance was to be checked before we left
the house.
Such artefacts manifest human values which are often otherwise inarticulate.
Consequently, with memories of the objects we knew in childhood, we imbibe
fundamental bases for evaluating the material world. Though a pacifist
by conviction, I still delight in the æsthetics of hand-to-hand
weaponry. I would love to have a real dog; a wish vetoed by my 'canophobic'
family. I love tents and sleeping under canvas. I still check my appearance
before leaving the house.19
However, we live in a fallen world and not all that is made is beautiful
or delightful. Children 'catch' more than we expect from the constructed
environment. What we make and choose to live among expresses what is important
to us. So does how we go about the act of creation and presentation of
what we have made.20 Children receive powerful unspoken messages about
what is worth valuing.
The idea of the City of God must seem strange to children growing up in
Redfern, St Kilda or Thebarton; even more so to children in the shanties
of Mexico City, Bombay or San Salvador. Winston Churchill is reputed to
have said: "We shape our buildings and then our buildings shape us."
If children grow among ugly and mean-spirited artefacts, their lives are
prone to become a reflection of that.
It is far less clear whether an artefact can act as a direct channel for
evil influences, as Paul's handkerchief did for good. The idea is common
in paganism, and in Satanism, and widely held among fairly sensible Christians
(as well as many less so). It is hard to find Scriptures attesting to
such. Paul's attitude to food sacrificed to idols may give some credence
to the belief (1 Corinthians 10:14-22) but it is unclear whether his concern
specifically relates to the 'fabric' of the food or idol, or to some aspect
of the sacrificial rite.21 However, common human experience indicates
that art and architecture can impoverish, darken and oppress the human
spirit.
To the extent that human values expressed in artefacts are derived from
transactions with the Holy Spirit, they allow children to experience,
and be part of, an environment shaped by his influence. To the extent
that the values expressed have another spiritual source, they isolate
children from that experience and participation. We have to be concerned
for the quality of the cities, towns and suburbs, and the buildings, houses
and schools, to which we expose children; particularly, the children of
minority and marginalised groups. We should have an interest in the arts
and crafts, and manufacturing design of our community. We should be encouraging
the positive expression of human creativity; not uncritically, but actively
promoting that which enriches the human spirit.
It is particularly important that we attend to these matters where children
encounter artefacts identified with the Christian faith. To shunt children's
clubs and Sunday schools off to dingy back halls and rooms cluttered with
old cardboard and broken furniture is a spiritual act. We may not articulate
the words, but it preaches an eloquent sermon to children about the value
we place on the worship they might offer God, and about their place in
his earthly family. Concern for creative quality has to encompass the
architecture, furnishings, artwork, books, music and activity materials
we provide for them.
The more children are exposed to constructed environments that indicate
a reality beyond the mundane, that point to the nature of that reality,
and create delight and appreciation, the more they reflect a transcendent
set of values; the more children will recognise that there is an 'other'
that demands their attention. The less such opportunities are provided
the less they will desire the transcendent. What we say about God's perfection,
purity, beauty and worthiness for worship will partly be measured against
the way the environments we provide reflect such characteristics. The
Spirit working through children's exposure to human artefacts enlivens
their hunger for that which is truly of value, turning heard words into
received Word. To fully understand, and adequately respond to, the God
of the Bible, children must have ongoing occasion to meet his Spirit reflected
in works of human creativity.
To: Social
environments in the transmission of faith
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Glenn Cupit is Senior Lecturer in Child
Development at the University of South Australia and is currently
working towards his doctorate on the implications for a Christian
understanding of spiritual development for secular education systems.
He is part of the Unley Uniting Church community and is married
to Cecily. They have two adult children
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