Praying with eyes closed
On the way home from church this afternoon, I mentioned that Brendan had been a very good boy throughout a long service.
“I know,” Brendan said, confidently. “I prayed twice. And I didn’t even open my eyes.”
“Oh, that’s even better,” I said.
Brendan hesitated, then said, “Well, I did open my eyes once, just to make sure no one else opened their eyes.”
“Did anyone else have their eyes open?” I asked.
“Yes,” Brendan said. “And guess who it was?”
“Who?”
“It was Josh!” (Josh is our foster son, you’ll recall.)
“Really,” I said. “Josh, I am surprised at you. Opening your eyes during prayer?”
“Yeah, guilty as charged,” he said.
“Brendan, from now on, you are in charge of making sure everyone has their eyes closed during prayers.”
“Alright, Dad, I will,” he said. “We can practice when we get home. I’ll say a prayer and you all have to keep your eyes closed, and if any of you open your eyes, me and God will be very disappointed.”
“On second thought,” I said, “Maybe I shouldn’t have made you the Chief of the Prayer Police.”
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It’s funny how kids get such ideas sometimes. I remember a few weird ones of my own.
It’s also funny that you sorta humored him and that he had no idea that’s what was going on.
Comment by Mel B — Sunday, 2 September 2007 @ 9:10 pm
That’s my little Pharisee!
On a serious note, it’s been rather interesting having Josh in the house. He hasn’t said so, but I suspect he is an atheist, or at least skeptical, though he goes to church with us and doesn’t say anything about his own beliefs. He doesn’t sing any hymns, or pray, though.
I find myself feeling very old around him. He reminds me a lot of myself when I was young, not so long ago, and I keep wondering if he realizes how things will change, how things pass, how one eventually accepts things that were once intolerable. My therapist calls it growth, but it seems more like a kind of death to me.
Comment by greypilgrim — Monday, 3 September 2007 @ 6:53 am
It makes you wonder where the “you” is going, if you’re busy accepting that that was once unthinkable to accept. Or it does me, anyway. I think of those academic all-stars in our paper last spring, high school seniors with their big proclamations of getting jobs that “make a difference” and fully use their talents, then I think of me and my desire just to get a job where I get paid well and people leave me the fuck alone, and I wonder where all my spit and fire went.
It’s like your entry a couple ones down, about the crazy man — or is he the sane one, while the rest of us pat ourselves on the back for ignoring the fact he makes us so uncomfortable — we like to call difference insanity and assimilation growth. Maybe it’s all a slow death, and we try to make ourselves feel better about it as we all succumb. In the name of civilization.
Comment by Heather — Monday, 3 September 2007 @ 12:38 pm
I think in late adolescence and early young adulthood, we all think we are the first ones to doubt that God exists, or the first ones to see the beauty of art and literature, or the first ones to discover love and sex. Everything is new to us, and there are still a few more years of idealism ahead before the “big proclamations,” as you say, are clubbed to death like seal pups by reality.
Finding a job that pays well, and where people leave you the fuck alone…the true American dream. And assimilation is part of growing into an adult; at some point we all just say “fuck it, I just want what everyone else wants” and we give up on the idea of making a difference.
God, we’ve turned into cynical old codgers, haven’t we? What must the young people think of us? Not much, I expect.
Comment by greypilgrim — Tuesday, 4 September 2007 @ 10:11 am
You know, I don’t always properly express how much I love your similes sometimes. “… are clubbed to death like seal pups by reality.” Fantastic. And apt.
I also wonder if they sell teens and young adults on the idea that they are special in order to propel them through the incredible amount of (as the song says) crap they shove into your skull, on the pretense the act of learning it might actually be useful in your quest to right the wrongs and slay the dragons.
Comment by Heather — Tuesday, 4 September 2007 @ 10:32 am
Oh, I would go farther and say that as parents and educators, we are specifically instructed to make kids feel special. To some extent that feeling is how we all make it to adulthood with a reasonable degree of success. I suppose where young people get in trouble is when their specialness has been exaggerated, or they have an overly optimistic view of their talents and abilities.
I read in the Washington Post this weekend about the Virginia Tech gunman and his inflated sense of himself as a writer. The continual crushing of his dream to be a writer is cited as a motive for his rampage; his sister said a novel he wrote was rejected by a New York publisher shortly before he committed his crime. That is going to an extreme–killing people as an act of revenge against one’s own limitations–but it is one good example of what happens when people have unrealistic expectations for themselves.
Also, consider all the kids out there staking their whole lives on becoming a professional athlete. They don’t study or take school seriously because they just know–and sometimes their parents and coaches have assured them it will be so–that they are going to play professional ball one day.
Comment by greypilgrim — Tuesday, 4 September 2007 @ 10:41 am
There’s something to be said for helping children develop a healthy self-respect and self-esteem, but also something to be said for helping children understand the reality of their chances of becoming great (writers, ball players, whatever). In watching _Meet the Fokkers_ last night, I must confess I kind of like the “Wall of Gaylord” idea displaying tenth place ribbons and all, that mediocrity (or, really, just being yourself) is indeed something to be celebrated.
Oh, and “me and God will be very disappointed,” that’s just great
Comment by Dawn — Tuesday, 4 September 2007 @ 6:15 pm
One of my favorite songs of the early 90’s: “Pray Naked” by the 77’s. I guess that that could include having one’s eyes open.
Comment by Todd — Tuesday, 4 September 2007 @ 8:46 pm