By Melissa Jack
On Friday I spent the morning in Five’s classroom as a mummy-help. For some reason this is the highlight of his week, God knows we don’t see enough of each other anyway, but I digress.
Friday morning is when the Year 1’s have religious education.
Our decision to ‘let’ Five attend was not based on our own religious beliefs. We are a pretty non-denominational household. My husband grew up in a God-fearing family in the southern USA, whereas my own Kiwi family had rather little to say on the matter. So, whatever floats your boat - it’s all good with us really.
Despite my own vociferous protestations and refusal to attend bible study when I was young, Five’s Dad and I decided that there are considerably worse things kids can learn at school than some stories about a guy named Jesus.
I was given the task of gluing poems into the kid’s language books during the bible lesson, so my faculties were left relatively free to observe the kids. In short, they loved it. There was music, dancing, puppets, and a simple, interesting - to five-year-olds - story that involved the kids as participants and ended with a great lesson about how our value as people is based on what’s inside – not on outward appearances. Seriously, what kid in this day and age doesn’t need a little reminder about that now and then?
The lesson ended with a little prayer where those children who wanted to could stand up and thank God for anything they felt was important. This was where I was truly dumbfounded. Children stood up, scrunched their eyes closed and clasped their hands together and gave thanks for all their wonderful friends in their class, for having houses to live in, for being taken care of and for the smiles of their teacher. I swear I’m not making this up – even I was moved!
This can be a really divisive subject for many people, but after observing the lesson, I was left wondering what all the fuss was about.
We have never taken Five to church or read to him from the Bible, and perhaps we never will, but the lessons he is learning in this short half-hour a week are more akin to awareness of his place in the world in relation to his peers, and seem to be encouraging empathy and kindness in the children present. There was neither sign of ‘brainwashing’ nor any religious zealots handing out pamphlets (much to my relief!).
My perception of these classes has been proved totally wrong and misguided. I don’t consider them life-changing or offensive at all and wonder how many people really would, if they took the time to sit in on a lesson before making the decision not to allow their child to attend?
There is also the added bonus of Five’s interpretation of what he learns; in short his understanding is nothing short of hilarious. As I was tucking him in tonight he told my how God has us in his pocket ‘cause that’s where the good people are. The bad people, he assured me, get to hang out in God’s nose and socks and other equally bad places. Heaven forbid!
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