What's the point Dad?

This semester I've been taking an external subject at the University of Chicago on the gospel of Mark. This is an important part of my training because the University of Chicago is generally acknowledged as quite a liberal school, so its helping to acquaint me with the sorts of things that are said about Mark and more generally about Scripture from that perspective. Overall its been a positive experience and there have been some good discussions in class. I have a presentation to do on tuesday on the last twelve verses and was trying to explain my approach to Ange the other night after a day of work on it. Judah was listening "patiently" but broke in at one point and said "What's the point Dad?" A great question. I realised that it was a really good time for me to take a deep breath and try to explain what I was doing simply (to see if in fact there WAS a point). So I explained that while Daddy's "job" (we might use the broader term "calling" but my kids are still under the impression that I have a job like other Dads...) usually involves telling people about the bible to help them understand it better, next week Daddy will be talking to a group of people who know an awful lot about the bible but who don't believe that its God's Word in the same way that we do. He understood and I asked him how he thought I should approach the presentation. What should I tell them?

His answer: "Love Jesus." Another great answer. I pressed him for more and got the following: "The bible is God’s word. When we read the bible its God speaking not us speaking, because he wrote it. You know this. So you’d better believe it or you’ll be punished. I think they’ll believe it when they hear the punish part."

I couldn't stop grinning and affirmed him lavishly. What a refreshing end to a long day!

Nathan's Bible Tales

You may remember two years ago, footage we took of Judah at 3 years old "reading" the bible.
Well now, here are a few snippets of Nathan telling a few bible stories at 3 and half.



Here's a reminder of Judah at 3 doing a similar thing.

"Is not fire - is only bell"

Feb 28 was Judah's birthday (well for those who remember its actually the 29th but that doesn't come around all that often). We had decided to celebrate at Chuck E Cheese's (A cross between timezone and pizza hut - always a hit with kids) with some of his friends from pre-school. We had to get away by 9.30am and while we didn't think that would be too much of a challenge, we realised that unexpected things can always pop up, so we made good preparations the night before. We had left baking the cake until the morning because Ange wanted to make a giant chocolate chip cookie for the cake and well fresh is best, but everything else was prepared and we went to bed. After a skype call to family first thing in the morning we decided it was high time to make the cookie cake, and that's where things began to go wrong...

You see, the recipe called for two cups of cookie dough, but wanting to make sure it was a winner we had bought pre-made dough in a plastic tub. A brief argument ensued as to what proportion of this tub represented two cups. I won't say who argued which position because it simply isn't important. We together decided to just dump the whole tub onto a flat baking tray and put it in the oven. What could be simpler...?

Several minutes later things were going really well. The lump of dough had spread into a nice flat and perfectly round cookie exactly as big as the (flat) tray (with no sides)...but there were still several minutes to go - it clearly wasn't yet cooked. It kept spreading. And then smoke started pouring out of the oven, because as it spread it dripped over the sides of the (flat) tray (with no sides) and down onto the base of the oven where it began to burn. Very soon the kitchen was full of smoke. The next thing to happen should not have been unexpected, but smoke alarms are designed to be shocking and this was no exception. I swished smoke vainly and visited each of the smoke alarms in turn to see if I could remove a battery or rip them off the wall or something. No luck. This is college housing and this was a college installed system and I think somebody had already thought of that. Ah - that's it. Call the college switch. I dialled the number and patiently tried to explain. "I'm really sorry, we were doing some cooking and the smoke alarms have gone off. There is no fire, but I can't turn the alarms off...(all the while I could hear Basil Fawlty in the back of my mind "Is not fire, is only bell!"). "I'll send the officer" came the curt reply. I was about to explain that we didn't want to cause any trouble and if she could only give me the clue as to how to turn the blasted things off the officer need not come - but she had hung up. Well the officer arrived (very quickly) and we patiently explained what I'd told the girl on the phone. "I'm going to have to get you to evacuate the building" he said calmly. "What?!" I said. (Now I could See Basil Fawlty in my mind's eye as well as hear him. It was all I could do to stop myself from saying "NO. Is not fire. Is only bell!") "I'm really sorry about this" the officer explained "but once those alarms go off there's nothing we can do. The fire department will be here soon and technically they own this building until they reset the alarms. Please leave the house now." I'm pretty sure he doesn't have kids. We were all in our pyjamas and it was -8 C outside. Did he want us to just go and stand in the snow on the front "lawn"? What planet was this guy on? We got into our coats and boots. I'd hate to think what would have happened had it actually been urgent. I went and started the car and turned the heater on. We evacuated the kids there. By that time the fire department had come and some very important men in very important uniforms were bustling about. Even as I picked up Jordan and took him to the car one of them brushed by me. As he did he said in a very important voice into a very important device "Confirm - cooking smoke - over." Um duh. Actually he was very nice and when they were leaving he turned and said to me. "Where are you from?" (Come on Mick bring out Croc Dundee 4 - these people are forgetting our accent!). "Australia" I answered. He brightened. "Well when I get off my shift, I'll have to go and put the wobbly boot on" he quipped with a knowing wink. You folks have a good day." And he was off. Americans, Australians - any help on that one? What the heck's the wobbly boot?!

So back to the story. The cake still wasn't cooked. Nobody was dressed and we had five minutes to leave. Incredibly we almost managed it. I say almost for two reasons. The first is that we took about ten. The second is that the last thing we had to do before we left was to grab the cake. Unfortunately, we were now in a hurry. Hastily Ange grabbed the precious cookie which wasn't quite ready to be ripped off the tray. It prompty disintegrated all over her and all over the floor. She had to change.

It could only happen to the Coombs'.

Judah's birthday was a hit by the way. He had a great time and so did his friends. Now for those who have been as puzzled about my Basil Fawlty allusions as I was about the wobbly boot - here's some context. Enjoy.

Selfish yet self-aware

Dad: OK boys. One story before bed and tonight its my turn to pick.
Both boys: Ohhhhhh!
(Ange reminds me that it is in fact Nathan's turn to pick)
Dad: New plan - Nathan gets to choose one story.
Judah: Ohh that's not fair!
Dad: OK then, you be the answer man. How would you make it fair? There's one story and two boys - and its gotta be fair for everyone. What would you do?
Judah: Well.....if I was a man...
Dad: yes...
Judah: If I was a man, then I'd say one boy gets to pick each night.
Dad: Exactly.
Judah: But if I was a boy, I'd say I get to pick every night!

What a great response! In the meantime Nathan has picked a story.

Dad: Now you know the difference between being a boy and being a man. Let's read...

Wunkle Nunkle Gedunkle

Read on - trust me. This is hilarious and very precious at the same time. No the words in the title are not from my vocab list for German!

Nathan was repeating this phrase tonight and other delightful gibberish. I wasn't paying much attention - he is the sort of person that says silly words all the time, and for what its worth...so am I. But he was trying to get my attention with his prattle. When he finally did I grinned at the words. He grinned right back at me and said "Maybe God will give ˆyouˆthose sounds next time Dad." Suddenly I understood. Several nights ago when I was putting them to bed I was praying for them and lapsed into tongues. They have often heard us pray this way but this time Nathan was particularly intrigued. He asked me about it and I explained that God gives us the words to help us pray and that maybe oneday God would help him pray the same way as he helps me.

Now that I was finally on his wavelength, Nathan begged cheekily "Say 'sugarmamadoodle' to me Dad - say 'sugarmamadoodle!'

Classic...

PS: To the non-charismatic readers of this blog I am recording this primarily because it was incredibly cute, not because I am in a hurry to conclude that my three year old is speaking in tongues!

PPS: To the charismatic readers of this blog I need to further clarify that I do not rule out this possibility nor indeed the exercise of any spiritual gift on the basis of age. The Gift of the Spirit and the Spirits gifts are for kids too! After all the kingdom of heaven belongs to "such as these."

"I'll never leave you or forsake you."

Ever wondered about that story in Exodus 33 where God decides to leave the Israelites to go on ahead without his presence? Its one of those classic theological dilemmas because after Moses pleads with God, God apparently changes his mind and decides to go with them after all. I personally have struggled with this story and with its implications, however tonight I saw it in a new light. It was one of those parenting low points - or so I thought. We had gone out for a late night shop at ALDI since the cupboards were bare. We finished shopping at about eight-thirty and while the kids had been pretty good, they were starting to lose it. Nathan in particular when he is tired cannot tolerate the restriction of being in his car seat. Two minutes from home he started agitating and crying saying he wanted to get out. In a moment of frustration (Jordan also was crying) I pulled a classic "Daddy move" and drove the car into a car-park and stopped. "Go on then." I said. "Off you go." I unbuckled his belt and opened his door expecting repentance, but humorously (with the benefit of hindsight certainly) he called my bluff and hopped out looking back at me defiantly. What to do? I did what any dad would have done. I put the car into drive and started to pull away. He ran beside the car for a little bit. In the end I'm not sure who "won" the standoff, but he did agree that he wanted to come home with us and got back into his seat.

After I got home I had a moment alone to be disgusted with myself. I began to repent for being so impetuous and said to God "see, I'm not a good dad. You wouldn't do that." Almost immediately I was reminded of the story in Exodus 33. Actually, God would and did do something very similar. Now I run a grave risk of over simplifying what has been for ages past a perplexing theological question in comparing my experience tonight to this passage. So let me not claim to have solved it, but I certainly feel like I identified with what God seems to have been feeling in this story - absolute frustration at the obstinate disobedience of his children. Yes sure, in my case it was certainly more than half our own fault for having them out so late, but work with me... Could it be that God was pulling a "Daddy move" to illicit exactly the reaction which he got - tears of repentance and pleas for his presence?

Well who knows. But Exodus 33 was certainly an encouragement to this imperfect earthly father tonight.


Clayton

P.S. and don't worry, he wasn't emotionally damaged. We had a good father-son talk, where I reassured him that I loved him and that I would NEVER leave him.