People of Requirement

It’s been 13 years and I still remember a sermon that basically changed the course of my life. My husband at the time and I were visiting Virginia Theological Seminary as part of our discernment process for his call to ordained ministry. The student body president was preaching at the community Eucharist in a space that was likely never intended for worship, but became the room of requirement after the seminary chapel burned down. 

She preached on the word “abide.” And, other than wishing I’d paid more attention to The Big Lebowski the 15 times I’d fallen asleep while trying to watch it in high school, she had my full attention. I can’t recall the exact words she said, but I have never forgotten the way I felt. The idea of presence, and on that particular day of that particular visit, that idea of abiding in community called our family to VTS. It’s stuck with me ever since.

John uses the word “abide” a lot in his Gospel, and he writes of Jesus inviting the disciples to abide in him, to dwell and remain and sit and lavish in his love and presence. To be comforted and strengthened by it. In these statements, there is no doubt of Jesus’ love and commitment. Those are the constants. 

Do our children, and especially our teenagers—embarking on a whole new emotional roller coaster of allegiances, seeking what it means to be seen and loved, and to love—know that we, their parents, are a constant? 

Do we abide and welcome them to be held in the love that exists between parents and children, as close as we can fathom to the love of a Creator and Created? 

Do they sense we will continue to be here for them, to abide with them, in their trials and in their accomplishments? 

I was recently struck by the following text (emphasis mine): 

Cultural pessimism is always fashionable, and, since we are human, there are always grounds for it. It has the negative consequence of depressing the level of aspiration, the sense of the possible. And from time to time it has the extremely negative consequence of encouraging a kind of somber panic, a collective dream-state in which recourse to terrible remedies is inspired by delusions of mortal threat. If there is anything in the life of any culture or period that gives good grounds for alarm, it is the rise of cultural pessimism, whose major passion is bitter hostility toward many or most of the people within the very culture the pessimists always feel they are intent on rescuing. When panic on one side is creating alarm on the other, it is easy to forget that there are always as good grounds for optimism as for pessimism—exactly the same grounds, in fact—that is, because we are human. We still have every potential for good we have ever had, and the same presumptive claim to respect, our own respect and one another’s. We are still creatures of singular interest and value, agile of soul as we have always been and as we will continue to be even despite our errors and depredations, for as long as we abide on this earth. To value one another is our greatest safety, and to indulge in fear and contempt is our gravest error.

—Marilynne Robinson, The Givenness of Things

How often do we panic and assume a pessimistic posture when our children err? How often do we operate from fear? Does the minor misstep cause us to see a monster-sized problem, when really the “right size” of the issue is a casual slip up or perhaps a bad habit in need of correction? 

Social media provides additional lenses for our children to view their world;  panic and pessimism often at the center. A presumptive claim to respect for self and others is less common, but oh, how beautiful if it became our norm!

What does abiding with our children look like? We can work toward a balance of offering grace, teachable moments, and imposing discipline when necessary. Offering each of those isn’t be “inconsistent;” it’s being responsive. Our objective responses and our emotional ones weave together and hold our children in the complex clothing of being human.

I argue that we, as parents, or generally as adults in the lives of our children and youth, must be “people of requirement.” Sometimes parts of their world feel like they are burning down. Sometimes their lives require additional rest. Sometimes their experiences call for encouragement, or quiet, or safety. 

When we look at our younger generation, how much time do we spend observing and listening – carefully discerning what they might need at that moment? Do we need to stay out of it? Do they need someone to listen? Do they need us to impose a boundary? Do they need advice? And what they need and what they want may differ too. Do they even need us? Or do they need a different caring adult to help them navigate this life experience? 

Many of us would say our kids wouldn’t know if we asked them. This is where intuition is helpful. 

Jennifer Garner is known for her movies but she is also known for one of my favorite parenting mantras: “benign neglect.” This looks like leaving space for our children to experience creativity, problem solving, and independence. To abide in our children is to be there with them, by them, or maybe at a distance. It means allowing them to work out their setbacks and celebrate their victories, but in such a way they can feel our abiding love, a consistent strength and comfort where our children dwell as littles but that dwells in them as they grow. An abiding love they can extend to others along their path. 

This journey mirrors the transition of the disciples’ relationship with Jesus: the disciples followed Jesus – listened, learned, failed, tried again, then Good Friday, Easter, and Pentecost. The Spirit then dwelled in them. With them. With us. In us. Leading us to abiding with one another in love, empowering us to show up and love as required, thanks be to God.