A visit with Sister Magdalen
She came to our parish this weekend. An aging nun at the Monastery of St. John in Essex, a spiritual daughter of Elder Sophrony (himself a spiritual son of St. Silouan the Athonite), and a tea-guzzler of English proportions, Sister Magdalen delights and encourages children the world over with her down-to-earth ability to speak spiritual truths in simple ways that resonate within the soul of kids and adults alike. She's best known for her hard-to-come-by books, including Conversations with Children: Communicating Our Faith.
She rarely leaves England these days, so this visit was a rare and special treat. She has an uncommon gift, and I enjoyed her talks immensley. I took pages of notes, and I simply sat and soaked her in. But I did take away a few key ideas that are only shocking in that they shouldn't be so shocking.
The first is that children (and adults) need to pray as easily as they breathe. It should be natural, express what's honestly in the heart (even if its mere acknowledgement of doubt and distance), and shouldn't be burdened with lots of rules or expectations. Parents should foster a prayer filled atmosphere in the home and model aloud many of the hidden, private prayers of their hearts so that children can understand how routinely prayer permeates the day.
The second is that children need to be loved, unconditionally and totally. They need to be secure in the knowledge that no transgression is too large to be forgiven. They need space to make mistakes. Parents should, of course, set limits. But they should be generous limits that give children the freedom to be themselves and exercise prayer-filled judgement.
The third is that church should be a happy place, filled with happy memories. While a child's good behavior during services is important so as not to distract others from the work of prayer, it is equally as important that a child not be reprimanded for simply being who they are. They must never be forced to put on a pious face for church, to split their world into "sacred" and "secular." If church is a joyful place rather than a place of burdens, a child will never truly grow anti-Christ even if the weight of ideas pressures them to later adopt some sort of agnostic or atheistic faith. The way back will always be accessible to them.
More later.
She rarely leaves England these days, so this visit was a rare and special treat. She has an uncommon gift, and I enjoyed her talks immensley. I took pages of notes, and I simply sat and soaked her in. But I did take away a few key ideas that are only shocking in that they shouldn't be so shocking.
The first is that children (and adults) need to pray as easily as they breathe. It should be natural, express what's honestly in the heart (even if its mere acknowledgement of doubt and distance), and shouldn't be burdened with lots of rules or expectations. Parents should foster a prayer filled atmosphere in the home and model aloud many of the hidden, private prayers of their hearts so that children can understand how routinely prayer permeates the day.
The second is that children need to be loved, unconditionally and totally. They need to be secure in the knowledge that no transgression is too large to be forgiven. They need space to make mistakes. Parents should, of course, set limits. But they should be generous limits that give children the freedom to be themselves and exercise prayer-filled judgement.
The third is that church should be a happy place, filled with happy memories. While a child's good behavior during services is important so as not to distract others from the work of prayer, it is equally as important that a child not be reprimanded for simply being who they are. They must never be forced to put on a pious face for church, to split their world into "sacred" and "secular." If church is a joyful place rather than a place of burdens, a child will never truly grow anti-Christ even if the weight of ideas pressures them to later adopt some sort of agnostic or atheistic faith. The way back will always be accessible to them.
More later.