In the Image of God

When I was a child, a preacher used a metaphor about a cake pan to describe human beings. Adam was the original cake pan. After the "great fall," the cake pan was dented. So as decedents of Adam, we are all now non-perfect cakes. We are somehow hollow, reduced.

But I simply don't believe it. I will not pass that myth to my child. He's perfect in every way, just as we all are.

The child's face that I look in to is not a sinner. He's not a broken individual waiting to be healed. He's not evil, looking for someone to fix his fractured self.

He is, however, a child of God - of any God (you'll read what I mean shortly), a child of mystery, a person of fullness.

I know there are many ways to look at the belief of broken humanity, but I continually think about the psychological damage we do to children when we keep pushing the "sinner" theology and thus set the foundation for this cycle of brokenness to continue. 

I sincerely think we do damage to children when we call them broken, bad, or selfish. They internalize those terms, and it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy of negative attitudes. Maybe this is one reason this study found extremely religious states have more crime, divorce, and defeatist attitudes.

According to Psychology Today, labeling people has intense effects, whether negative or positive:

The long-term consequences of labeling a child like Hannah "smart" or "slow" are profound. In another classic study, Robert Rosenthal and Lenore Jacobson told teachers at an elementary school that some of their students had scored in the top 20% of a test designed to identify "academic bloomers"--students who were expected to enter a period of intense intellectual development over the following year. In fact, the students were selected randomly, and they performed no differently from their unselected peers on a genuine academic test. A year after convincing the teachers that some of their students were due to bloom, Rosenthal and Jacobson returned to the school and administered the same test. The results were astonishing among the younger children: the "bloomers," who were no different from their peers a year ago, now outperformed their unselected peers by 10-15 IQ points. The teachers fostered the intellectual development of the "bloomers," producing a self-fulfilling prophecy in which the students who were baselessly expected to bloom actually outperformed their peers.

So, when I read studies like this, I simply wonder why we would label first our selves as a sinner and then do the same to our children? Wouldn't the world be better if we enforce the good?

In no way I am trying to trample on people's most sacred beliefs - those things we all hold in our hearts and feel connected to in our core.

But I am trying to make sense of this in my head.

I know many deeply religious friends whose foundation is built on Christ's love, Gandhi's patience, or Mother Theresa's giving.

However, my mind is caught where I know it's detrimental labeling someone "bad" from the get go. 

Maybe we just don't see it that way when religious dialog shrouds the core belief because we aren't allowed to question these fundamental beliefs - which we may not even pay attention to anymore anyway.  Maybe if we do wonder beyond them, it may mean we aren't as faithful as we are told we should be. 

Perhaps describing humanity as sinners is so much part of the script we have been handed we don't recognize the power it holds over our children, and in a larger sense, the world we are creating and living in today.

I recently read Just Babies: The Origins of Good and Evil.  I love the title because it has a play on the word "just" as in "morally right, fair," and also as in "simply" - we are simply babies until our environment molds us.  

The author's belief is that babies are born with a moral sense:

"This is not the same as an impulse to do good and avoid doing evil. Rather, it is the capacity to make certain types of judgements - to distinguish between good and bad, kindness and cruelty. What's most vital to understand here is the profound effect we have on their morality. What we express, they imitate."

There are some more lines that have stayed with me after reading which highlight children's natural "moral sense":

-psychologists have found that children naturally help adults without prompting:

"Maybe their helping is an adaptive behavior designed to endear them to their caretakers, analogous to their physical charms such as big eyes and round cheeks. But researchers have evidence that suggests that helping- at least by older children - really is motivated by a genuine care for others."

-babies do not have the ability of doing good or bad things themselves just yet:

"babies are sensitive to the good and bad acts of others long before they are capable of doing anything good or bad themselves. It seems likely, then, that the 'moral sense' is first extended to others and then at some later point in development turns inward."

In an interview, the author continues to explain what his book is all about, succinctly answering questions I had about humans:

Q)So are babies naturally good, or naturally evil? 

A) Both! We are born with empathy and compassion, the capacity to judge the actions of others, and a rudimentary understanding of justice and fairness. Morality is bred in the bone. But there is a nastier side to our natures as well. There’s a lot of evidence that even the youngest babies carve the world into Us versus Them—and they are strongly biased to favor the Us. We are very tribal beings. Our natures are not just kind; they are also cruel and selfish. We favor those who look like us and are naturally cold-blooded towards strangers.

Q) Does this mean that prejudice and racism are inevitable? 

A) Happily, no. For one thing, social experience really matters—babies and children have to learn who Us versus Them is by observing how those around them act. So while some distinctions are inevitable, such as friends versus strangers, others are not. Notably, it is only pretty late in development—by about the age of five—that some children come to use skin color and similar cues when decide who to befriend and who to prefer. Before this, they don’t know that race matters, and so whether or not children will be racist is dependent on how they are raised; what sort of social environments they find themselves in. Also, we are smart critters, smart enough to override our impulses and biases when we think they are inappropriate. Once we learn about these ugly aspects of our nature, we can move to combat them. We can create treaties and international organizations aimed at protecting universal human rights. We can employ procedures such as blind reviewing and blind auditions that are designed to prevent judges from being biased, consciously or unconsciously, by a candidate’s race—or anything other than what is under evaluation. 

Q) It seems as if a lot of your interest is in how we come to transcend our hard-wired morality. 

A) That’s right. A complete theory of morality has to have two parts. It starts with what we are born with, and this is surprisingly rich. But a critical part of our morality—so much of what makes us human—is not the product of evolution, but emerges over the course of human history and individual development. It is the product of our compassion, our imagination, and our magnificent capacity for reason. We bring all that to bear when we consider such questions as: How much should we give to charity? Is it right to eat meat? Are there any sorts of consensual sex acts that are morally wrong?

Q) What do you want to accomplish with this book? 

A) Two things. First, many people believe that we are born selfish and amoral—that we start off as natural-born psychopaths. And many argue that we are, as David Hume put it, slaves of the passions: our moral judgments and moral actions are the product of neural mechanisms that we have no awareness of and no conscious control over. Intelligence and wisdom are largely impotent. This is an ugly view of human nature. Now, if it were true, we should buck up and learn to leave with it. But it’s not true; these dismissive claims are refuted by everyday experience, by history, and by the science of developmental psychology. We are moral animals, and we are powerfully influenced by our capacity for reason. Second, I think there are practical implications to the scientific study of morality. If you’re interested in reducing racism and bigotry, for instance, it is critical to understand our inborn proclivity to favor our own group over others; if you want to create a just society, you’ll want to learn about how we naturally think about fairness and equity. Good social policy is informed by an understanding of human nature at its best and its worst, and this is what Just Babies is all about.

So much of evil we think is fixed in humans seems to be malleable- and that's truly good news. We do have innate qualities that warrant our concern. But again- I think that's what the book is saying- we can be optimistic that due to "our compassion, our imagination, and our magnificent capacity for reason" we have the power to redirect these lower impulses (if that's even a good way to describe them) and focus on the good, the perfected God-like in all of us. 

I think sometimes we label children's behavior according to our limited internal script- and if that limited internal script bases actions on the precept of a broken, deficient human - what do we expect to see? And once more, what are we truly encoding onto our children? Broken people continue to break. Yet, people who see themselves as helpers or do-gooders continually help or do good. 

As a parent, I think about messages that surround us. I want my child to learn about Jesus, but also Mary Magdalena, Mother Teresa, Buddha, Gandhi, and more. I want him to feel and recognize the perfection of all of these regular humans too - who, we must remind ourselves- were created in God's image. And while all these people were just humans, they all successfully made their arrows sharp and hit the mark (using the Greek definition of sin here, meaning "to miss the mark" like an arrow missing the target) and thus have exercised their perfection! Yes, to keep reinforcing the good brings forth more good.

So I want to throw out this lexicon of "sinner, reborn, rebellious, missing the mark" - I don't want there to always be this struggle involving a dented cake and failure, a sense of deficiency and unfulfillment. 

Maybe we forgot or simply never realized we don't have to use this idea of lack to make us want more. Maybe we need to remember success begets success, goodness begets more goodness, fullness begets more fullness. 

We are utterly God-like. We do have the capacity to make the world better - here today we do have creative control- and it's as accessible as the words we choose to sculpt the world we live in.

"For we are God's handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared us in advance for us to do." ~Ephesians 2:10

Authentic Choices

I hate doing something when someone expects me to do it. That's why I have so many issues arising where my feminism and my personal choices collide.  

If I learned something is expected from a woman with regards to how she operates in her marriage, or when someone dies, or when its assumed she is something just because she is a woman or a feminist or a southerner, part of me revolts. It doesn't mean I don't do it, but that I just have some aversion when dealing with those things. 

But here's what I have learned lately- forget feminism. Forget anything that TELLS me I must operate in a certain way in order to fit the mold. I CHOOSE what works for me in that certain situation. 

Don't get me wrong- I love me some feminist theory. I love me some feminist reality. Most often, feminist questioning has served me well. But when it gets to a point where these terms negate finding the way that feels the most legitimate to me, then they shouldn't apply. I must remember my self. I must remember to listen to my heart and soul and not another dogmatic proposition. 

This is hard for some of us. We like the security and quickness of having absolutes. Then we don't hang in suspense. Having dictates reduces our level of responsibility in the situation too. Much simpler.

I think we all do this time to time- we use our parents, our alma mater, our religion, our location to serve as guiding points instead of our heads and our hearts. And we are supported in doing so - Look at the repercussions of doing otherwise - a falling out with parents, a questioning of your loyalty to your college or team, a challenging of your faith, a dubious regard of your southern manners perhaps.  We are all fully aware of the external price we pay for the wavering we experience. 

Yet, some of us forge ahead. We forgo the weighing of angel/demon, the heaviness of external judgement, the incessant intellectualizing and sometimes we listen to what is authentic arising in ourselves. I love it when this actually happens to me! 

There are so many times I have complained to M about doing the dishes. I do not want to work the "second-shift" and be responsible for the caregiving and house cleaning all the time. This is a big one for me. We know that most mothers still do the housework even after a long day of working outside the home. But work is work - regardless if done in an office or working as a parent all day.  Don't we deserve the payoff of marriage too- that is not always having to choose between cleaning or a good book? Isn't part of marriage reducing the workload while increasing the happiness??

While it's getting better, the division of labor is still a big complaint for many women:

On an average day, 20 percent of men did housework–such as cleaning or doing laundry–compared with 48 percent of women. Thirty-nine percent of men did food preparation or cleanup, compared with 65 percent of women.

Parenting is a full-time job, and the family responsibilities should be worked out as each family deemed so. But because it is constantly assumed the title stay-at-home mother includes ALL house cleaning BOTHERS ME. Thus, my soul revolts. How can I find peace with this?

From the commercials that relate women only care about dish soap from the toys we women had to choose from as a child, most of us women have been socialized to ACCEPT high cleanliness standards and to believe it is our job to always do it. I know it bothers me when the kitchen is dirty for days. I have gotten better about letting it pile up and be mindful this is life after children, but it is still an issue for me.  A clean, orderly kitchen means I have some control over my chaotic, toddler-filled world. 

So, of course, I would let M know. I would plead, I would be passive aggressive, I would let it sit, hoping he would notice. Many times he notices and  does it. And I feel better…temporarily. 

And I am grateful for the times he helps with the family responsibilities, but I still I think about all these gender rules and socialization processes, and simply become resentful. But I don't want to live that way. 

Yes, all those feminist questions and tenets I have come to understand utterly apply in the second-shift situation. But I also want the warring to cease. So I had to do some deep soul work. 

The answer that keeps reverberating is this: If I were single, would I keep the kitchen clean? YES. If I were a man, would I keep the kitchen clean? YES. 

And there you have it - this line of questioning works for me. It illustrates these are my authentic choices regardless if I am a feminist or not. I am a clean freak. I like the kitchen clean. And just because I am married, just because I am a woman, should not change my personality trait of orderliness. I shouldn't get angry at M because he doesn't always have the same personality as me. But I shouldn't always be expected as a woman it's my realm- my problem only. In the end, I have to take personal responsibility and realize I can't change another person - only my feelings about the situation.

It doesn't come down to a gender thing now. While questioning gender rules has informed my choice, it doesn't define it. 

If I wipe all the identifiers off my self, and put back what matters, then I shall have a sparkling kitchen! And I'm ok with that now that I worked it out with myself. 

As long as M recognizes my reality - that I deserve to have free time and a clean kitchen and I don't have to choose between the two all the time- then I'm good. My feminist sensibilities have served me well. They have taught me to assert my right to question my reality, find commonalities among other women, and remind myself my peace of mind is ultimately my responsibility - not my husband's. 

Sometimes I have felt doomed to regulating the world's gender relations. But no more.  The way I see it now is to find my own unique solution, which leaves me feeling empowered and free from gender gatekeeping. 

This new insight has helped me in other circumstances as well. 

Recently, a friend of ours watched a good friend pass away. Most of the men brought whisky to help him cope. Of course, most women brought food. I was stuck- I didn't want to be a "typical" woman and just make him a meal. (Remember I'm not saying doing typical women things are wrong- but when it becomes the EXPECTATION - I rebel!) 

Booze just didn't appeal to me either. It may sound silly that I even have an issue with all these interactions when dealing with the death of a loved one, but I do. These are the small situations that I feel like women get judged upon if we don't do the "right" gender-coded thing. 

But I let all that fade. I let all those rules and stipulations of rebellion and dogma swirl around my shoulders to be set free. I don't need all those external demands to make my decisions. I simply need me. 

So I cooked for him. I like cooking. I know food can be a hassle to make when one's mind is elsewhere and a comfort when in pain. So I lovingly cooked my favorite recipe and gladly delivered it to his door. 

This whole mess of if I'm a feminist or a traditionalist, or a republican or democrat, or a believer or an agnostic, or a east coast or west coast girl, shouldn't always be our guiding force.

We should always question our motives, making sure these definitions don't rule over our hearts and souls. 

Authenticity (if it truly exists) is found in our quiet, inside selves, where we haven't built demarcations that limit our actions, where we haven't had to think, "Well, I'm a feminist so I should believe this way."

I'm starting to question why we value so much conviction. Why do we have to constantly prove our choices were right for us and campaign our beliefs on our lapel? Isn't believing and trusting in ourselves enough? 

Part of me wonders if this characteristic informs our sense of self negatively. If we believe it is the perfect choice for us, then why do I need a term, a proclamation of rules, or a list of things I must do as a feminist or traditionalist, liberal or conservative, northerner or southerner?

For me, these terms that I may have clung to for the better part of my life are now maybe getting in the way of my personal peace. They are becoming divisions instead of connectors. 

I am bringing down the walls of these terms and simply just being. If something works for me and makes me feel good, then it works for me and makes me feel good. I no longer need the lexiconal security that they may have provided in the past. 

Maybe we should strive to move beyond perception of a problem from the stance of identity labels and simply allow our authenticity to offer solutions for us. Work from the inside out instead of outside in. My marriage, my parenting, my life choices mean more to me than a identifier. I don't want to get these switched up any more.