I work at a Church of England school, but we do have a couple of Jehovah's Witness children in the eldest class. They don't take part in our school assemblies, so the teaching assistants take turns in supervising them during these periods.
The boys have started to have their own mini 'meetings' during these assembly times, complete with songs, Bible readings and question times, and they always make the TA with them feel very much a part of things. I have to admit that, although I'm not a Christian in any shape or form, I hugely enjoy sharing their worship time. And it's funny really, because I absolutely hate our Monday school assemblies - they're very 'everybody stand up and do actions' and I will do anything to get out of them (and I know I'm not the only one. It's uncanny how many people suddenly find jobs that must be taken care of immediately.).
The meetings that our JWs have are more my idea of religious meetings: let's listen to a story, then ask questions, and take turns in talking and discussing things. No clapping and air-guitars; it's peaceful and thoughtful and something I don't mind being a part of. And one thing that impresses me greatly, is that these boys (who can be... lively... in class) are showing such a different side of themselves. They're only 10 and 11, but when I didn't quite understand what a Bible story was getting at, and I thought dammit, I'll give them a chance to laugh at me, they didn't do that at all. They took the time to give me a considered answer and thanked me for being interested. And I am interested. I think that religion, in all its different shapes, is fascinating. They know that I'm not trying to have a go at them when I ask about their lives as Jehovah's Witnesses and I've basically been told 'ask us anything'. Which is great. I can show my utter ignorance and they revel in educating me. It's brilliant role reversal.
I have to say those boys know their Bible inside out. When answering my question this morning of why they call God 'Jehovah', they were able to go straight to verses that explained it. And, probably because they're children, they're doing it with very little agenda, just an enjoyment of sharing what's important to them.
I think we could all do with seeing what other people do. What's the point of 'I'm right, so I'm not even going to consider your view'? Surely life is far more interesting if it's more 'I have my beliefs (or not), but I'd like to hear your opinion, too.' (Ever since reading Notes From an Exhibition, by Patrick Gale, I've wanted to go to a Quaker meeting, but haven't had the courage.)
So, I think I've learnt a lot from two boys who are usually expected to learn things from me. And that's another thing: so many adults think they know better than children. Couldn't we all do with opening our minds a bit more?
Thanks, boys, for including me in your worship time. I know where I'm going to be spending my Monday assembly times from now on.
The boys have started to have their own mini 'meetings' during these assembly times, complete with songs, Bible readings and question times, and they always make the TA with them feel very much a part of things. I have to admit that, although I'm not a Christian in any shape or form, I hugely enjoy sharing their worship time. And it's funny really, because I absolutely hate our Monday school assemblies - they're very 'everybody stand up and do actions' and I will do anything to get out of them (and I know I'm not the only one. It's uncanny how many people suddenly find jobs that must be taken care of immediately.).
The meetings that our JWs have are more my idea of religious meetings: let's listen to a story, then ask questions, and take turns in talking and discussing things. No clapping and air-guitars; it's peaceful and thoughtful and something I don't mind being a part of. And one thing that impresses me greatly, is that these boys (who can be... lively... in class) are showing such a different side of themselves. They're only 10 and 11, but when I didn't quite understand what a Bible story was getting at, and I thought dammit, I'll give them a chance to laugh at me, they didn't do that at all. They took the time to give me a considered answer and thanked me for being interested. And I am interested. I think that religion, in all its different shapes, is fascinating. They know that I'm not trying to have a go at them when I ask about their lives as Jehovah's Witnesses and I've basically been told 'ask us anything'. Which is great. I can show my utter ignorance and they revel in educating me. It's brilliant role reversal.
I have to say those boys know their Bible inside out. When answering my question this morning of why they call God 'Jehovah', they were able to go straight to verses that explained it. And, probably because they're children, they're doing it with very little agenda, just an enjoyment of sharing what's important to them.
I think we could all do with seeing what other people do. What's the point of 'I'm right, so I'm not even going to consider your view'? Surely life is far more interesting if it's more 'I have my beliefs (or not), but I'd like to hear your opinion, too.' (Ever since reading Notes From an Exhibition, by Patrick Gale, I've wanted to go to a Quaker meeting, but haven't had the courage.)
So, I think I've learnt a lot from two boys who are usually expected to learn things from me. And that's another thing: so many adults think they know better than children. Couldn't we all do with opening our minds a bit more?
Thanks, boys, for including me in your worship time. I know where I'm going to be spending my Monday assembly times from now on.
Wow, this throws up so much that could/should be talked about.
ReplyDeleteCan we begin with "what shapes your opinion on what worship should be like?"
I don't think there's any particular form it *should* take. Any answer to this could only be personal - there must be literally hundreds of different ways to worship out there, from shamanic drumming to silent prayer. Some people want to come out of their worship-time buzzing, others in quiet contemplation.
DeleteSo, personally, I prefer something that makes me think. Having Pagan leanings, I would choose to be sitting on a Cornish beach, watching the waves come crashing onto the rocks. I'd have time to think about what I'd done right or wrong, and how I could become a better or nicer person. I'd also be in an ideal position to appreciate the wonders around me. (I couldn't worship in a place that was decorated so richly that I'd spend the whole time thinking where that money could have been better spent.)
I don't think there should be a set time or place for worship. Again, it's a personal thing, but saving all your thanks up for a certain time of day, or day of the week, would mean I'd have to carry a notebook around to remember everything. And every situation teaches you something about yourself and how, perhaps, you could have made someone feel better than you did.
So, actually, I have no idea what worship should be like. I just know what feels right to me. Gospel choirs might work for some, but I need some quiet thoughtfulness. Send me on a silent retreat somewhere, and I'll be more than happy. Actually, that's part of what appeals about the Liberal Quakers. An hour sitting in silence would be wonderful. :-)
Interesting. So, the next question relates to the 'Hindu' proverb. Well, I don't really know what to ask apart from surely you don't think that, do you? Flawed logically while also offensive any sincere devotee of just about any religion.
ReplyDeleteOkay, to start: you wrote Hindu in quotation marks - is that because it's also from somewhere else? When I did the 'Teach RE' course, I was taught about it in relation to Hinduism and the diversity within the faith. It's been simplified from the passage in the Bhagavadgita, which says 'In any way that men love me, in that same way they find my love: for many are the paths of men, but they all in the end come to me,' (4:11).
DeleteIt's saying that, although Hinduism may have lots of divisions of caste, tradition and so on, everyone has the same aim of achieving Moksha, or freedom from their cycle of lives. Most Hindus believe there is one single God, but they may worship any of hundreds of divinities, all of which are different representations of the One God.
So the proverb, or the original passage from the Bhagavadgita, is kind of saying 'Stop arguing about the little differences; you're all Hindus and have the same aims in life.'
I know we're not, by any stretch of the imagination, climbing the same mountain, but it's a shame when people on, for example, the Jewish mountain, disapprove of each other because of the clothes they wear, when they're all following basically the same rules, using the same scriptures and have very similar aims.
Our religious mountains may be in different countries, or even different continents, but the amount of intolerance between people who are climbing the same mountain is rather sad, in my opinion.
And I'm obviously being incredibly thick here, so maybe you could help me, but I don't really understand why people would be offended by that? Or do all Christians not have the same aims as each other? I'm not asking just to be difficult or argumentative - I genuinely don't know.
And I'm not climbing a mountain. I'm in a sunny forest glade, watering the flowers.
Yes, admittedly that makes a significant difference. Curses! Undone by my ignorance of Hinduism! Nevertheless, the logical flaw still stands - "I can see the whole of the mountain and you can't", rather contrary to the intended purpose, no? Unless... you're now going to tell me that the original quotation is a divine proclamation, in which case I suppose it stands.
ReplyDeleteSadly, there are many who would use this proverb (and it was in this context that I first encountered it) to tie ALL religions together. Even more sadly (to answer your question) many of those would label themselves Christians.
So no, not all Christians have the same aims; but then, not everyone who wears the strip plays for the team.
Actually, I'm not that up on the Bhagavadgita, I only know the bits of it that I used in assignments... It's roughly translated as 'The Song of the Lord' and is a conversation between Prince Arjuna, a warrior, and Krishna, who is the incarnation of the god Vishnu. It takes place before a battle that Arjuna doesn't want to fight.
DeleteI have read the Ramayana properly, because I love the story of Rama and Sita, though I suppose it's wrong to read scriptures for entertainment purposes :(
I hadn't realised that some people have used that proverb to refer to all religions. In that case, I probably appeared extremely arrogant, using it on the blog. That wasn't my intention, and I hope no-one's taken it that way. I didn't think anyone would write a proverb to encompass the whole world.