Is Easter Too Scary for Preschoolers?

Jesus was dead, and I mean really dead, on a cross, but he's not anymore.

That's how my son Timothy, a few years ago when he was three, explained to neighbors why he was so excited about Easter. No one referred me to a therapist, or to a cognitive development seminar. Those around me didn't see the horror of what I was doing to my children. Neither did I.

We didn't know that the Gospel, like Ginsu knives and blood pressure medicine, ought to be kept out of the reach of small children. 

At least that's what one church was told recently, by a publisher of children's Sunday school curricula, according to Two Institutions, a blog about family and church matters.

The pastors at this church in Raleigh, North Carolina, were perplexed when they saw the Holy Week Sunday school lessons for preschoolers from "First Look," the publisher of the one to five year-old Sunday school class materials. There wasn't a mention of the resurrection of Jesus. Naturally, the pastors inquired about the oversight. It turns out it was no oversight.

The letter sent from the publishing company is up on the Two Institutions blog website. I had to read it three times to make sure I wasn't falling for a Lark News parody. It turns out this publisher has decided that the Gospel is too scary for preschoolers.

"Easter is a special time in churches," the letter from the publisher says. "It's a time of celebration and thankfulness. But because of the graphic nature of the Easter story and the crucifixion specifically, we need to be careful as we choose what we tell preschoolers about Easter."

The letter continues:

"In order to be sensitive to the physical, intellectual, and emotional development of preschoolers, First Look has chosen not to include the Easter story in our curriculum. Instead, we are focusing on the Last Supper, when Jesus shared a meal and spent time with the people He loved. We have made this choice because the crucifixion is simply too violent for preschoolers. And if we were to skip the crucifixion and go straight to the resurrection, then preschoolers would be confused."

The curriculum marketers must know how bad this sounds, so they reassure the church they believe that the Gospel is for all people. Leaving out the cross and the resurrection is actually to help children come to Christ. They write, "We're using these formative preschool years to build a foundation for that eventual decision by focusing on God's love and telling preschoolers that 'Jesus wants to be my friend forever.'"

The publishers note that there is an  "alternate ending" to the kindergarten lesson that "tells a simple version of the Easter story" for older preschoolers, for those churches that want it. What kind of evangelical world do we find ourselves in when the Easter story is an "alternate ending" to the story of Jesus, at Eastertime?

Jesus wants to my friend forever? Who is this Jesus? And where is He? Apparently, He's a Christ without a cross, without an empty tomb. He spends time with His friends, and loves us. Does knowing this, apart from the Gospel, actually prepare preschoolers to see themselves as sinners in need of a Mediator before a Holy God?

No, a Jesus who is not crucified, buried, and resurrected, does not save, and doesn't help ease the way to salvation. Jesus as moral teacher, inspirational rabbi, or "forever friend" apart from the Gospel only prepares one for old-fashioned Protestant liberalism, the notion that what matters is that I'm civilized, ethical, and enculturated as a Christian. That's not Christianity.

At Pentecost, the apostle Peter delivered a Gospel proclamation that cut the heart of his hearers to the quick of repentance by preaching that the dead body of Jesus was no longer in the tomb, but had been raised by the power of the Spirit. Peter thundered: "Let all the house of Israel know for certain that God has made him both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified" (Acts 2:36 ESV, emphasis mine). When the people cried out for direction as to how to be saved, Peter continued: "For the promise is for you and for your children and for all who are far off, everyone whom the Lord our God calls to himself" (Acts 2:39, emphasis mine).

The apostolic preaching included raising up children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, a nurture and admonition that is nowhere in the Scripture abstracted from the Gospel. Indeed, the very idea of an ethical system, or a love of Jesus, that is not rooted and founded in Christ crucified and resurrected is something far different than the message of Christianity... no matter to whom, and for how long, it is given.

If this were just a Sunday school publisher, we could ignore it. If this were one isolated incident, it would not be worth mentioning. But it is not. The temptation that comes to all of us, in every era of the church, is to have Jesus, without seeing ourselves in the gore of his bloody cross and the glory of his empty grave. In the way that we speak of Him to our children, or to skeptics, or to seekers, we sometimes believe we'll gain more of a hearing if we present Him as teacher but not as a former corpse. It is too disturbing, we think to ourselves, too weird.

Peter thought that way too. Not the bold preacher of Pentecost, mind you, but the Peter of just a short time before that, the Peter of Caesarea Philippi. Peter certainly knew Jesus as friend, and he had just confessed that He was Messiah and Son of the living God. But when Jesus began to teach that He must "suffer many things from the elders and chief priests and scribes and be killed, and on the third day be raised," Peter was outraged (Matt 16:21).

Peter was no preschooler, but he was disturbed. Matthew tells us that he began to rebuke Jesus. His cognitive development was not yet to the point where he could understand such things. This will never happen, Peter said. He loved Jesus. He wanted to be with Jesus. He wanted to stand with Jesus. He just didn't want the Jesus of the cross or the empty tomb. Jesus didn't call this shallow theology. He didn't call it inadequate teaching. He called it Satan (Matt 16:23).

Our children need to hear the Gospel. They need to see Jesus. That's graphic, sure. It's confusing, of course. And not just for kids. But it is the only message that saves. It's the only message that prepares one for salvation. It is, as Paul says, that which is "of first importance," the message he received from Jesus Himself (1 Cor 15:3-4).

The death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus is the Gospel. That's the first word. If we cannot speak of that, we would be better off not speaking of Jesus at all, rather than presenting another Christ, one who meditates but does not mediate, who counsels but is not crucified, who is accessible but not triumphant over sin and death.

The apostle Paul told us the word of the cross would be folly to those who are perishing (1 Cor 1:18). He didn't warn us that it would sometimes also be folly to those who are publishing. No matter. It is still the power of God

This Easter, preach the Gospel... to the senior citizens, to the middle-aged, to the young adults, to the teenagers, to the seekers, to the hardened unbelievers, to the whole world. And, yes, preach the Gospel to the preschoolers.

I'm not saying it won't be scary. The Gospel will disturb the children. And, if you understand it, it will disturb you too.

Comments

[Eric]

What does this publisher recommend to those of us who attend a church with a corpus on prominent display (gasp) AND who bring our children to the Sunday service (gasp)?

I have noticed that "children's bibles" often take this same tact. Adam and Even lived in this really great garden that God made for them! Noah really loved animals (and rainbows)! Jesus loved giving children hugs! The end!

I have found an excellent anecdote to this sort of thinking in _Offering the Gospel to Children_ by Gretchen Wolff Pritchard. From the prologue:

"We carve up the Bible into "Bible stories," so that few children even suspect that the story of God’s people — our story — is not a collection of object lessons or heartwarming anecdotes, but a long story of unbearable loss — and unbearable hope…"

"The cross is a mystery and a terror; we feel we would gladly shield our children from it. But I have found that children do not want to be shielded from the cross. Stumbling block and folly though it may be to grown-ups, to children the cross is the power and wisdom of God. Children know that the world is full of terror, that no answers are easy, that no comfort comes without cost, pain, and mystery. It is not the cross that terrifies children, but the false gospel that bypasses the cross and leaves us forever alone with our pain and guilt, and the false gospel of optimism that tries to assure us that Adam and Eve are still in the garden among tame animals, and there is nothing outside…"

"We cannot afford to keep fooling around in Sunday school, preaching a 'kiddie gospel' to our children — a gospel that hides the bitter realities and glorious promises of Scripture behind ranks of clean and happy children singing 'Jesus Loves Me.' We must not give them a God who turns out to be just another grown-up — who says "There, there" without really listening to their fears of the monsters under the bed, who cares only about whether or not they are being "good." We must not keep exhorting our children to be good and kind and patient and grateful and glad and loving, without offering them the faith and hope to fuel that love." (pp. 4-6)

[maggie]

Glad my church didn't take this tack when I was a little one: I remember asking Jesus to "come into my heart" when I was three - on Easter Sunday right after hearing the story (and seeing a rather graphic flannel-graph) of how Jesus died and rose again.

My little three-year-old heart figured that, well, if Jesus died for it, it must be really important. Better get on with this whole salvation businesss!

And I don't think I'm scarred. Not from Gospel, anyway.

[Bob]

So, would you say the "alternate ending" is an "Easter egg"?

[labrialumn]

Two words:

Anathema sit

[Bill R]

A generation or more ago, parents worried about whether a story might injure a child's innocence by its moral perversity. They were much less concerned about whether a story showed children how brutal and violent the world was, as long as the violence served a purpose, a moral purpose. That's why most parents read Grimm's Fairy Tales, and thought them quite appropriate for little ones, even if they did hear about wicked witches being roasted alive in ovens. Today the situation is reversed: children must be taught that Heather can have two mommies, but heaven forbid that they be shown that the God-man died upon a cross! This is because for the unbelieving modern, pain is the only true evil, while morality is mere personal opinion.

Watch: Sunday School curricula will not describe Holy Communion as a participation in the Body and the Blood of Christ. How gruesome! Orthodoxy must die to serve the needs of "good taste."

[Wonders for Oyarsa]

One blessing I have gained in reading Touchstone is an exposure to the works of Gustave Dore. One of his more striking engravings is of Joshua sparing Rahab. We see the somber Rahab stepping over the mutilated corpses of the citizens of Jericho, as her terrified father peers over her shoulder. The two spies lend a firm and perhaps comforting hand as they guide her towards Joshua. A towering Israelite commander looks like Genghis Khan sitting atop his camel. Crude spears glimmer against a landscape of smoke and ruin. A plainly dressed but imposing Joshua sits atop his mighty horse, pardoning Rahab and her family while crushing a man underfoot.

It's quite different from the images I grew up with in illustrated Children's Bibles, with the kind smiling faces of the Israelites cheering at the collapse of the walls. But my Children will have both in their bookshelf.

It seems to me that we often underestimate the amount that Children can take in, as well as the purity of their hearts. If anything, boys quickly develop a cruel indifference to the pain they inflict on hapless creatures, and part of becoming a man is to start to understand the gravity of the things one used to joke about. In any case, it's hard for me to see the harm of bringing Children of any age to encounter the crucified and risen Jesus.

[Bobby Winters]

I just saw some VBS curricula that promised to teach children that Jesus is the "friend and savior." Friend and savior. To be savior, he must first be our Lord.

[Suzanne]

For over fifty years, Sofia Cavalletti, of the Centro di Catechesi in Rome, and her collaborators in the Catechesis of the Good Shepherd who work as catechists with preschoolers around the globe, have been proclaiming the death and Resurrection of Jesus to children as young as 2 years old. In this method, the children's reactions have been carefully documented, and the artwork and prayers they have spontaneously made as a result of this central and most essential event in the Gospel provide proof that not only are these things perfectly appropriate to announce to the little ones, they are, indeed, of the greatest value and importance to the particular spiritual needs of preschoolers. If those formulating catechetical tools for children would actually work with children rather than building theories based on presumptions, the children would be better served.

[Nick Milne]

One blessing I have gained in reading Touchstone is an exposure to the works of Gustave Dore.

YES. Dore is all kinds of excellent.

My particular favourites among the biblical plates include:

- Judith Beheading Holofernes (this is one of my favourite scenes in Art in a general sense)
- The Deluge (mostly because of the tigress and her cub)
- The Death of Samson (for portraying it as the horrifying and splendid catastrophe that it was)
- The Vision of Ezekiel (for skeletons beyond reckoning)
- The Closing of the Crucifixion (for the darkness of the piece)
- Death on the Pale Horse (for simply being awesome)

And this is just a great image of the Lord in general terms.

I tried to provide links to all the ones I mentioned, but Typepad flagged it as spam for some reason, so I've had to just leave it at this. There are plenty of websites hosting these images, though, and they're not hard to find. If you've never come across any Dore before, by all means, get cracking. He will not disappoint.

And don't even get me started on the unstoppable juggernaut of majesty that is his series of plates from the Crusades. Like this one.

[Fr. Robert K. McMeekin]

One of the benefits of calculating the date for Pascha by the "Revised Julian Calendar" is that, more often than not, you get to celebrate the Resurrection anywhere from one to five weeks later than those who use the "Gregorian" rendering. This also means Easter candy and other Paschal treats are 50-70% off at Walmart!

On that unfortunate and rare occasion when the Western Easter coincides with the Eastern Pascha, I regularly told my fragile and dear little ones, "I'm sorry kids, I accidentally backed over the Easter Bunny in the driveway, there'll be no baskets or candy this year... But hey! Christ is risen!

Perhaps this might be a more suitable approach to soften the blow of the grisly biblical narrative of Christ's death and resurrection told for nearly two-thousand years to generations of reasonably well-adjusted children?

Just a thought,
Fr. Bob

[Kathy Hanneman]

Yesterday, on a different blog, I read about the "Easter" letter of the Presiding Bishopess of TEC. Nowhere, does it mention the cross or the Resurrection. Instead, it talks about how Christians have messed up and now need to save the environment.

Maybe Episcopal Churches could use the "First Look" curriculum for all their Sunday School classes and read the PB's letter to all the adults. That way no one would have to be made uncomfortable by actually having to hear the Gospel.

If interested, the blog is http://anglicancontinuum.blogspot.com/
(The article is named, "What has 815 in common with Jerusalem?" and was posted on March 13,)

[Nick]

This is actually one of many reasons why I think orthodox Christians should be highly skeptical of "Childrens X" where X is one of:
* Mass
* School
* Program
* Minister

Christ has provided a children's minister in every family. His name is Dad. He has an able assistant named Mom. Having lived with the children their whole lives and done things like catch vomit before it hits the rug they are well equipped to explain the deeper things of God to their children. If they feel a certain lack they are free to pray or to seek more mature help in their community. Usually this help is called Grandpa or Grandma and in some traditions Father, Minister, or Elder.

[jason]

Last year, my grandmother died very unexpectedly. Prior to her death, my sons and I visited 2-3 times a week. My oldest was almost three when she died. Explaining death and what it meant and how we are all affected by it was very difficult. I didn't want to give a simple truism--"Grandma's in heaven, now," and I didn't want to terrify his highly-excitable imagination. His understanding of this has developed over the last year. At times, he has even gone off in the wrong direction, picking up violent notions of death and killing from a friend of his who has gotten to watch some the wildly inappropriate (for a four-year-old) super-hero film.

He has, however seen Prince Philip slay the witch/dragon with the Sword of Truth, Shield of Virtue, the three faerie god-mothers in "Sleeping Beauty." I plan to make that a building block for later development.

And then there is the resurrection. Last year, Pascha came after grandma's death and he sort of got bits of what we were saying. This year, he has a greater understanding of the sadness and permanence of death and is also gaining a better understanding that Jesus rose from the dead. He was dead--killed (an otherwise forbidden word in our house due)--and then, he became alive again. I see now that I haven't said enough about the Holy Spirit, focusing primarily on getting him to see the amazing miracle of the fact of the Resurrection, what that means for us (including Grandma) and to grasp some iota of the idea of Jesus as God and Man. Eventually, he will ask "how" and then we can discuss the means of the resurrection.

No Sunday School curricula could do this. This is a matter of his mom and I being around, talking about it with him, finding those teachable moments. We have the series of books by Mother Melania from Conciliar Press which render the events in poem, but don't gloss. He is getting it, gradually. The Orthodox Christian presentation isn't as gory as others, maintaining a balanced focus on the Unchanging God as well as the Suffering Man. I am trying to maintain the same balance. I want him to be affected, but not . . . paralyzed?

[Nick]

Modern man is a little too paranoid about violence. I've banned certain uses of "kill-" at my house but an outright ban seems excessive. We kill to eat. The evil will be slain and have their bones picked over by the carrion host reserved for them. Witches get tossed in ovens and roasted alive.

Though I have to relate:
I showed some nature clips to my three year old daughter on Youtube. One was a pack of lions (evidently from the series "Planet Earth" which I really need to rent) taking down an elephant. Conversations have now been...
"What do deers eat"
"Grass"
"But not meat"
"No"
"We're meat aren't we daddy?"
"Yes"
"So deers won't eat us"
"Yes"
"But a tiger would"
"If he could catch us"
"But not a fox because its too small"
"Yes"
"But would he eat brother because he's smaller"
"Well...maybe but I'd chase him off"
...
...

[la episcopalian]

This is no surprise to me. In my last parish the pastor forbade me to speak on any of the Old Testament --specifically the Flood story-- to the children in their service. "Too bloody" and "would have to get permission slips from the parents . . . it would take a whole week to unpack it." A processional cross with a corpus was also too much for the under eighteen set. As a parent myself, I thought his position was silly at best and probably Marcionist to boot. The presiding bishop's Easter message was just more of the same.

Glad I've moved on.

[Marissa]

+JMJ+

I had a Protestant friend whose church obviously believed the same thing. She read the Bible for herself when she was nine years old and was shocked that Jesus had had nails in His hands. When I told her that I had grown up with a carved wooden crucifix about two feet high hanging in the stairwell, she couldn't believe my family had allowed such an image in the house.

Interestingly, we had this conversation in the context of a greater discussion of Mel Gibson's Passion of the Christ. Before we had even seen it, she was sure it was going to be terrible. Then we saw it together . . . and I was surprised by how positively she ended up reacting to it.

[jason]

"Forbidden" is probably too strong a word. Obviously, "kill" is a common word in many contexts. My son, influenced by cartoon violence at his friend's house, got in to the habit of threatening to "kill" his mother and I. Eventually, he crossed a line and we had to lay down some redirection, including simply not allowing him to speak of the killing of people for the time being.

Animals killing animals, princes slaying dragons, all that is still around. I have even started on some of the Grimm's fairy tales. He picked up the idea that he wanted to watch Disney's "Beauty and the Beast" the other day. My wife was surprised--she has not suggested it because it seems a bit old for him. But she sat down with him and they watched. It bothered him too much. By the time Gaston (?) and the Beast battled, they had to stop it. He was too disturbed.

I thank God that he still has that innocence going into his forth year. When addressing that innocence with the stark reality of scripture (and the start reality of everyday reality) I feel like I do when making dough--not too dry, not too wet, not too warm, not too cold. Slowly, gradually working and pushing his understanding without going overboard.

No curriculum could be any more than a loosely-referenced guide.

[jason]

"Forbidden" is probably too strong a word. Obviously, "kill" is a common word in many contexts. My son, influenced by cartoon violence at his friend's house, got in to the habit of threatening to "kill" his mother and I. Eventually, he crossed a line and we had to lay down some redirection, including simply not allowing him to speak of the killing of people for the time being.

Animals killing animals, princes slaying dragons, all that is still around. I have even started on some of the Grimm's fairy tales. He picked up the idea that he wanted to watch Disney's "Beauty and the Beast" the other day. My wife was surprised--she has not suggested it because it seems a bit old for him. But she sat down with him and they watched. It bothered him too much. By the time Gaston (?) and the Beast battled, they had to stop it. He was too disturbed.

I thank God that he still has that innocence going into his forth year. When addressing that innocence with the stark reality of scripture (and the start reality of everyday reality) I feel like I do when making dough--not too dry, not too wet, not too warm, not too cold. Slowly, gradually working and pushing his understanding without going overboard.

No curriculum could be any more than a loosely-referenced guide.

[Nick]

Jason,

Like I hope I expressed my results and methods have been different. My daughter is riveted by Beauty and the Beast at age four. We had a talk about killing at the beginning of age three. It covered a few essential points: bad guys kill without remorse and without reason, good guys should avoid killing, good guys kill sometimes when needed, and sometimes good guys get killed.

I'm actually planning on watching the passion with her this Easter. I'd put it off earlier simply because I didn't think she could follow the dialog without extensive explanations while I whispered it to her. I think she's familiar enough with the readings now that she'll be able to follow along with only the dialog whispered.

[Judy K. Warner]

Mel Gibson's Passion? No, not for a four year old, please. That kind of graphic violence that goes on and on and on will only harden her.

[Nick]

Judy,

Of all the people here your opinion rates very highly with me (doubly so in this case since you're a woman), but I'm unsure you're correct. There are two versions of the Passion now, one edited down. I've seen the original and wasn't much phased by it in the sense of objecting to the gore. I think it did a handy job of depicting Mary's agony using the flash backs. Having shown her images of rather bloody depictions of the Crown of Thorns and various other stages I don't know...what makes it worse than the stations of the cross?

[Ethan C.]

Nick, I have no children of my own, and so I cannot expect my opinion to carry anything like the weight of Judy's (though I'm sure that even if I did have kids, she would still deserve greater consideration), but I'd like to lend my agreement to her here.

In response to your question, "...what makes it worse than the stations of the cross?" I offer that a cinematic experience is inherently more immediate than a still image, a conversation, or an exercise in imagination. There is a much reduced sense of distance between the viewer and the object, and thus a greater strength to the sensory effects (distinguished from the intellectual effects, which can be stronger in other media, such as books). They don't call it "graphic" violence for nothing; images have a much greater power to stir visceral feelings than other media, and film even more so.

I'm no expert on children's development, much less your daughter's particular state. But the reason that children are usually protected from images such as those in the film The Passion is because they may lack the maturity to integrate the visceral feelings evoked by the images with an intellectual understanding of their significance and meaning. And I don't mean the narrative meaning of the film, I mean the meaning of the emotions themselves, their place within the soul and their connection to the other parts of one's personality.

Obviously, the desire to shield children from unpleasant feelings can be taken to foolish extremes, as the original post here illustrates. But that does not invalidate the principle that children can truly be harmed by horrifying experiences that come before they are ready for them. I cannot speak for the edited version of The Passion, which I have not seen, but I know that I was personally quite horrified by my experience of the original version. This wasn't a bad thing; I fully expected and desired it, and it was beneficial to my spiritual development. But I was prepared for it and, at 20 years old, mature enough to comprehend it. I doubt that even a few years earlier I would have benefited much from the experience, let alone before puberty, when I can easily imagine that it might have harmed me.

I don't think you should take your own response to its goriness as necessarily a guide for how it will affect others, especially the very young. I would, at very least, consult my spiritual mentors and elders before deciding on showing it to your daughter.

[Nick]

Don't worry, I'll still listen Ethan, and yes, Judy as she has years and I assume motherhood behind her I take more highly.

I don't know if I buy the argument. As you point out the argument can become absurd if taken to the extreme. My perspective I think relies on a couple of points:
1.) She is familiar with the narrative and therefore can anticipate some of what happens. It is not a complete surprise.
2.) There is now a more edited version
3.) I don't quite buy the "seen" vs. "imaginary" argument. The kings of classic horror hide the monsters.
4.) There is a point to the narrative and the violence. It is not empty.
5.) Should I not allow her to watch nature programs (which is already far and away done with) then?
6.) To avoid the slippery slope what is the qualifier on maturity and how do we define it?

On six I expect a child to be able to handle violence if he can question intelligently about death. She can. Does she have all the bits down? No. I also may be a little biased by my up bringing. Raised a Witness I watched every nuclear disaster/concentration camp story that my parents could get their hands on. After all, things COULD get that bleak and you should know about it kid ("Empire of the Sun" is, in my mind much worse than "The Passion")! The passion, an event removed by time and with a hopeful ending, seems much less bleak by comparison.

Anyways...I'll think about it a bit more.

[Clifford Simon]

Nick, would you consider this picture book?

[Clifford Simon]

The book format puts the child in control of how much he takes in. He will linger on exactly how much is good for him. He will begin to skip (or even put the book down) when it begins to cross over from edifying to terrorizing.

But when you sit down to watch a movie, you agree to the director's decisions about what to linger on and for how long. Even if the child asks mommy to cover his eyes (as I've seen kids do during scary movies), he is not really spared. There is, first of all, the time span. A bloody image which lingers for longer, puts more emotional weightness on him, even though he is not looking with his eyes. What the director intends as sensitive may be recieved (in innocent error) by the child as voyeristic, even though he is not looking, just by the manner (and length of time) in which the director presents it.

Moreover, the director adds music to the scene. Music is a further weightiness to the scene, even beyond the bare time. The child, even with his eyes closed, is not spared from the emotional cues of the soundtrack. These may be very effective for adults who can process this artistic convention of "scoring" the blood and gore. The musical score will be asking the child (just like the images) to process what he cannot process.

Though some of us adults may not be awakened to our musical sensibilities, they are very real and very weighty, and (in my opinoin) can't be neglected when you calculate the weight of the movie on the child - for the child isn't spared from this, even if the child isn't looking.

Nature shows are directed FOR children. They choose time, space, and temperament accordingly.

To put it in brief, bloody images are not a yes/no question. There are myriad, subtle complexities of presentation. In a movie, those complexities are all chosen by the director, not by the viewer. But in a book, the viewer holds the power over those choices.

I am young and single like Ethan, so weigh my opinion accordingly, but I have to agree with Judy that a four-year-old watching The Passion sounds just implausible.

[Beth]

As a mother of 5 and grandmother of 14, I have to weigh in with Judy, Ethan, and Clifford. I would never have allowed any of my children to see something like the Passion film at such a young age, though we read of the passion to them from the Word from birth on, and they had books with some pictures -- not overly sanitized, but not completely realistically brutal, either; also some of our churches have done dramatic representations they attended, but these were more "stylized" than totally realistic.

Film is simply overwhelmingly emotional for young ones. My mom tells how I had to be taken from the theatre because I couldn't handle The Wizard of Oz at 4 or so; I refused to watch it again or read the book until I was in college because I had become convinced it was an evil movie, despite being told otherwise by many, many people I loved and trusted, including my parents. One of our sons became very disturbed at the music in The Black Stallion which presaged the snake scene on the island and I had to take him out -- it wasn't the scene itself, it was the music, which caught me by surprise, but it makes sense when you consider the emotional effect of music.

My husband decided not to let our youngest son see the Passion film when it first came out; he was about 14 or 15 at the time (I don't remember exactly how long ago it was; time is pretty much flooding past me these past few years!). We would let him now, at 17, but then we felt it was just too much, even in his teens.

I won't go see it myself because I am oversensitive to any violent images; they stay with me and give me nightmares for weeks. I don't think that they are wrong because of this; purpose has a lot to do with it. But some people can't handle too much visual imagery, and it's well to know this before subjecting anyone to it.

[Beth]

As a mother of 5 and grandmother of 14, I have to weigh in with Judy, Ethan, and Clifford. I would never have allowed any of my children to see something like the Passion film at such a young age, though we read of the passion to them from the Word from birth on, and they had books with some pictures -- not overly sanitized, but not completely realistically brutal, either; also some of our churches have done dramatic representations they attended, but these were more "stylized" than totally realistic.

Film is simply overwhelmingly emotional for young ones. My mom tells how I had to be taken from the theatre because I couldn't handle The Wizard of Oz at 4 or so; I refused to watch it again or read the book until I was in college because I had become convinced it was an evil movie, despite being told otherwise by many, many people I loved and trusted, including my parents. One of our sons became very disturbed at the music in The Black Stallion which presaged the snake scene on the island and I had to take him out -- it wasn't the scene itself, it was the music, which caught me by surprise, but it makes sense when you consider the emotional effect of music.

My husband decided not to let our youngest son see the Passion film when it first came out; he was about 14 or 15 at the time (I don't remember exactly how long ago it was; time is pretty much flooding past me these past few years!). We would let him now, at 17, but then we felt it was just too much, even in his teens.

I won't go see it myself because I am oversensitive to any violent images; they stay with me and give me nightmares for weeks. I don't think that they are wrong because of this; purpose has a lot to do with it. But some people can't handle too much visual imagery, and it's well to know this before subjecting anyone to it.

[Judy K. Warner]

Ethan, Clifford and Beth have all expressed what I think beautifully and accurately. I will add only that Nick, you seem almost eager to get your daughter into this kind of thing as early as possible. It's parallel to parents who want their children to read when they are three, or another kind of parents who dress their little girls like whores and think it's cute. It's a loss of the idea of age-appropriateness. When we had a common culture, people knew at what age children should be doing things. Without that common knowledge, and with a push from all sides to see children as little adults, people subject their children to all kinds of experiences too early. Children are tender and impressionable. What I mean by saying the experience would harden your daughter is that she would respond to her reaction of fear and overwhelming emotions by hardening her feelings to protect herself.

One of the most important things for parents to learn is, There is no rush. Your daughter will live many years and will not be hurt by putting off any one experience. We live a long time nowadays and childhood is short. She will have plenty of time for everything.

[Joe Long]

"One of our sons became very disturbed at the music in The Black Stallion which presaged the snake scene on the island and I had to take him out -- it wasn't the scene itself, it was the music, which caught me by surprise, but it makes sense when you consider the emotional effect of music."

My wife has a trick when a scene might be too intense or frightening for the youngest ones - drives the older kids and I crazy: the "mute" button. Many frightening critters and sequences (in the "Lord of the Rings" for instance) become downright age-appropriate and easily dismissable, without their sound tracks.

This does not apply to graphic, gallons-of-blood violence. And while I found "The Passion" extremely effective, it is with a certain fear-and-trembling I'd approach any mere movie attempting to tell that story - so sitting in the Rec Room, where we watch "The Wizard of Oz" or Jackie Chan movies, is just not the atmosphere for it. Big-screen treatment seems more appropriate to me - and perhaps at some rite-of-passage point, for deep reflection.

[Clifford Simon]

When I was a very young man (10 or 12 years old? I can't quite remember), my parents took me to see a Passion Play. This was odd because my family were professing atheists at the time. The play was The Glory of Easter, performed by the Crystal Cathedral (LA).

The protrayed the crucifixion in a very effective and family-appropriate manner. The stage lights went out, and the sage was all black, except for a spot on Mary the Mother of Jesus. She stood at the foot of the stage, watching the cross (imagined to be in front of her), crying and whimpering. Backstage, someone banged a hammer. It was loud, like a gong.

When the lights came up, Jesus was on the cross.

That was one of the great moments of my childhood, and a formative help toward my later faith.

[Nick]

Hmmm...I'll wait then. Fair enough. I can listen, though Judy, I'd hardly dress her like a whore. That was a wee bit much and more than a little too strong. The girl dresses her Ariel dolls up, "because daddy doesn't like strapless dresses on little girls."

[Judy K. Warner]

You missed my meaning by a mile, Nick. I was talking about the general trend of pushing children into situations that are not age-appropriate. SOME parents do it by dressing their little girls like whores. CHRISTIAN parents might do it by showing the Passion to children who are not emotionally ready for it. OTHER parents might push their children to read too early. You are in category two, not in the other categories (though I don't know about three but it's irrelevant to my point whether you are or not).

[Nick]

I'll also note this is the first time I've ever been accused of making a child grow up too fast. Ever. Usually its the other way around minus my insistence on being clean. I am of the unfortunate father type who can't handle "sticky". Knowing I'm the crazy one and that children should get dirty I usually try to find something else to do in those moments lest I pass on the paranoia.

[Judy K. Warner]

Nick, in case it has seemed otherwise, I am not criticizing your general attitude toward childraising. You seem like an exemplary father.

[Nick]

Don't worry...the thread came off a bit weird because I cross-posted. My last post was actually a cross-post against *my* comment as a follow up, not yours . I just was working on it while doing other things and it came out after yours. I'll plead guilty to being overly defensive. Posting it after yours just made it sound more so. Sorry about that.

And by golly she'll be reading Shakespeare by five or else! ;)

[Donald Sensing]

"A God without wrath brought people without sin into a kingdom without judgment through the ministrations of a Christ without a cross'".

H. Richard Niebuhr.

[Donald Sensing]

I meant to include in my previous comment that this statement was Niebuhr's critique of contemporary churches, and this was back in the 1930s. Which only goes to show how long this sort of thing has been going on.

[Judy K. Warner]

Mark Steyn is reading Mere Comments.

[synodos]

Interestingly, another quite conservative (yea, fundamentalist!) publishing house shocked my wife and me. My wife was preparing her Sunday School lesson for Easter Sunday this past week when she shockingly discovered that the curriculum left out the cross. The narrative that she was supposed to relate was that he merely died as the result of being killed and rose again - nothing specific as to how. This might seem normal in mainline denominational curriculum, but this was curriculum produced by one of the first separatist "denominations" that broke off of the modernist old Northern Baptist Convention (now American Baptist Churches, USA). Yes, the venerable and conservative Regular Baptist Press of the General Association of Regular Baptist Churches which was formed in 1932 apparently does not want to let 2 and 3 year olds learn about a cross. See for yourself: Planting Faith 2's and 3's. Spring 2008, Lesson 4, pp. 34-41.

I always understood that knowledge of the violence of the cross was the only way people, even small children, really begin to understand the scale of propitiation and significance of sin. All those little Hebrew children were able to witness the sacrificial killing of lambs, and smell the stench of burning flesh. The least that orthodox Christians could do was let them know of Christ's subjection to the cruelties of humanity in order to atone for those same cruelties.

[Stuart Koehl]

The earth quaked in fear,
And the curtain of the temple was torn asunder.
But, behold!, I now see You as accepting death for my sake.
How, 0 my God, shall I bury You?
With what type of shroud shall I wrap You?
With what hands shall I touch Your body not subject to decay?
0 Gracious Lord, with what songs shall I hymn Your departure?
I exalt Your suffering.
I extol in song Your burial and resurrection, calling out:
"O Lord, glory be to You."

On the other hand, during Resurrection Orthros, perhaps the most joyful service in the Byzantine Tradition, there come points in which the celebration comes to a full stop, as we recall just how and why the Myrrh-bearing Women came to be at the Empty Tomb:

Early in the morning before sunrise, as if it were already day, myrrh-bearing virgins were seeking the Sun, previously descended into the grave; and they cried out one to another: "Come, O Friends! Let us anoint with fragrant spices the life-giving and yet already buried body of Christ Who has resurrected the fallen Adam. Let us hasten, as did the Magi, and adore Christ and bring our myrrh as a gift to Him Who is wrapped not in swaddling clothes but in a shroud. Let us weep and exclaim: ‘Arise, O Master, granting resurrection to the Fallen!"

And there is the Exapostilarion, sung by Slavs in a heart-wrenching minor key:

You, O King and Lord,
have fallen asleep
in the flesh as a mortal man,
but on the third day You arose again.
You have raised Adam
from his corruption and made Death powerless.
You are the Pasch of Incorruption.
You are the Salvation of the world.

The contrast is even more apparent because it comes immediately after a particularly joyous acclamation of the the resurrection:

The angel exclaimed to her,
full of grace:
"Rejoice, 0 Pure Virgin;
again I say, rejoice!
Your Son is risen from the grave on the third day
and has raised the dead.
Let all nations rejoice!"

Shine, O shine!, O new Jerusalem!
For the glory of the Lord
is risen upon you, O Sion;
sing with joy and rejoice!
And you, pure Theotokos,
rejoice in the resurrection of your Son.

How pleasingly divine and sweet
was Your voice, 0 Christ,
when You promised, without fail, to remain with us
until the end of time.
We, the faithful, rejoice
in this firm foundation of hope.

Christ is risen from the dead!

O Christ, Great and Sacred Pasch
Wisdom, Power, and Word of God,
grant that we be with You in Your kingdom
on the never-ending day.

Christ is risen from the dead!

Shine, O shine!
O new Jerusalem!
For the glory of the Lord
is risen upon you, O Sion
sing with joy and rejoice!
And you, pure Theotokos
rejoice in the resurrection of your Son.

Finally, while giving great prominence to the intervening period, when Christ descended into the Abyss. For it was there that Christ encountered death, and broke death's chains over man, as Chrysostom wrote in his Paschal Homily:

He has conquered death:
He who was subdued by it.
He has vanquished Hell:
He who descended into Hell.

Hell was embittered when it tasted of His flesh, and Isaiah, anticipating this, said:
"Hell was embittered when it met You face to face."
Hell was embittered: for it was rendered void.
Hell was embittered: for it was mocked.
Hell was embittered: for it was slain.
Hell was embittered: for it was vanquished.
Hell was embittered: for it was bound in chains.
Hell received a body: but it encountered God.
Hell received earth: but it came face to face with Heaven.
Hell received that which it saw: but it fell whence it saweth not.

This theology is reflected in our iconography. In the Icon of the Crucifixion, Christ is not depicted as dead, or broken, but rather calm, reposing as if in sleep, for the Cross is not the Tree of Death, but the Tree of Life, and the instrument of Christ's victory. There is a famous icon of Christ's burial, often called Nymphios (the Bridegroom), or more popularly, "The Man of Sorrows", which shows Christ from the waste up being placed in the tomb, reduced to the form of a box. On his head is the crown of thorns; his hands are pierced, but one of them usually bears the reed with which he was mocked. Again, the image is of a man asleep, someone who has obviously undergone great trials, but has transcended them, and goes to the grave confident of victory. Finally, the icon of the Resurrection ("Anastasis") which depicts the event in cosmic terms: Christ energetically springing from the abyss of Hades, literally trampling down the doors of death, with chains and locks burst asunder. He offers a hand up out of the tomb to Adam, while Eve prostrates before him in gratitude. And Death is depicted lying beneath Christ's feet, bound in the very chains with which man had been bound by sin and death. It is this theology that underlies the Resurrection Troparion that is sung at Orthros and then at Resurrection Divine Liturgy on Sunday morning:

Having beheld the resurrection of Christ,
Let us adore the holy Lord Jesus
Who alone is sinless.
We bow to Your cross, 0 Christ,
And we praise and glorify Your holy resurrection.
You are our God
and beside You we recognize no other,
and we invoke Your Name.
Come, all you faithful,
Let us bow to the holy resurrection of Christ,
For through the cross,
Joy has come to all the world.
Ever praising the Lord,
Let us extol His resurrection,
Since He, having endured the crucifixion,
Has destroyed Death by His death.

This hymn captures perfectly the dynamic tension in which the Cross and the Resurrection must be held for a full appreciation of the transcendent mystery of Pascha: "We bow to your cross, O Christ, and we praise and glorify your holy resurrection". And it holds out the reason why we can never suppress the reality of the crucifixion or attempt to separate it from the resurrection: "For through the cross, joy has come to all the world".

For two millennia, this message has been handed down from one generation to the next, the central mystery, the great scandal of Christianity--the very first thing, practically, that one is taught in catechesis from an earliest age. Something which, in the Byzantine Church, one hears repeated Sunday after Sunday, for each Sunday is a little Pascha, the Day of Resurrection. If it is too intense for children, I have not noticed it in any of the children I see going up to Christ's burial shroud, the Epitaphion or Plaschanitsija, on their knees on Great and Holy Friday, to venerate on their knees the body of Christ and to kiss the wounds of his Passion. These same children will, in another two days, sing joyfully of Christ's resurrection and kiss the icon of the Anastasis. They understand the meaning of Pascha. They also understand that the Cross is how we get there. Those who believe this is too intense for children either deeply underestimate their spiritual depths, or have themselves been overly influenced by a morbid and lugubrious piety that dwells too much on the suffering and not on the victory of Christ. A theology of Christos Nikon requires the cross, the tomb, and the resurrection on the third day.

[Stuart Koehl]

I somewhere lost the first third of my post above. Now I have to remember what it was I said.

[DGP]

For most folks, the elision of the death and resurrection of the Lord is no great loss. After all, religion is really about being nice to people isn't it? That's the important thing, whatever you believe about God or heaven or Jesus.

[Ethan C.]

>>Hell was embittered when it tasted of His flesh, and Isaiah, anticipating this, said:
"Hell was embittered when it met You face to face."<<

Where does Isaiah say this? I don't know of such a verse in our Protestant translations. I'm curious as to where I may find it.

[Stuart Koehl]

I would assume Chrysostom is providing an exegesis on Isaiah 53, but the definitive answer on my part will have to wait for the arrival of my new Orthodox Study Bible (LXX and New Testament), which will have both the original text and the commentary.

[Stuart Koehl]

>>>For most folks, the elision of the death and resurrection of the Lord is no great loss. After all, religion is really about being nice to people isn't it? That's the important thing, whatever you believe about God or heaven or Jesus.<<<

The lost first part of my post discussed the tendency in Western Christianity either to dwell morbidly upon the suffering of Jesus, almost to the exclusion of the Resurrection (see, e.g., the medieval hymn Stabat Mater, in which the Resurrection figures hardly at all; and, in a contemporary example, Gibson's "The Passion of the Christ"), or to ignore the Passion altogether, resulting in a Resurrection that has no meaning or rationale.

The Byzantine services for Great Friday--Passion Orthros (the Twelve Gospels) and Vespers (the Epitaphion Service) do not hide the truth and horror of the Passion and Crucifixion, but put in in cosmological terms (i.e., that which we are doing to the man Jesus we are also doing to the Son of God, the Divine Logos and Second Person of the Holy Trinity). But this is always tied to the forthcoming Resurrection. Thus, at Orthros, we sing, "We bow to Passioon, O Christ; show us your Resurrection!. And in the Epitaphion Service, we have the following hymn that focuses on the grief of the Virgin at the foot of the Cross, but which ends with her, too, looking forward to Christ's victory over death:

The all-pure Virgin seeing You, O Word,
lifted upon the cross today,
lamented as a mother.
Her heart bursting with sorrow and moaning from the depths of her soul,
her countenance deeply scarred with grief
she cried out so mournfully:
"O Divine Child, how great is my sorrow.
0 Light of the World, 0 Lamb of God,
why have You passed from my sight?"
Beholding all this, the heavenly hosts were struck with fear, and they cried out:
O Incomprehensible Lord, glory be to You."

As she beheld You hanging upon the tree, 0 Christ our God,
she, who gave virgin birth to You, the Creator and God of All,
cried out in such great sorrow:
"Where has the beauty of Your countenance gone, 0 my Son?
I cannot endure this sight of unjust crucifixion.
Hasten and arise
so that I may also see Your resurrection from the dead on the third day."

The two events are thus held in dynamic tension, both on the day of the Crucifixion, when we look forward to the Resurrection, and on the Day of Resurrection, when we look back to the Cross. If you can't, don't or won't do this, then the mystery of the divine plan of salvation becomes meaningless.

[Robert]

I read somewhere (maybe a C.S. Lewis essay) that the manner of Jesus' death (by crucifixion) was something the early church was rather embarrassed about, since it was such a gruesome and shameful thing. The cross was not used as a symbol by the church until everyone had died who had ever seen a real crucifixion.

[If this is historically inaccurate I would be glad for correction.]

[Stuart Koehl]

The earliest depiction we have of the Crucifixion is in fact an obscene grafitto drawn by some pagan in the late first or early second centuries. As I remember it, it shows a man with the head of a jackass nailed to a cross, with the inscription, "So-and-so bows to his god". So it certainly was a scandal, both to Jews and Gentiles alike that Jesus died the shameful death of a common criminal.

However, almost as soon thereafter, the cross begins to supplant the fish as the common Christian symbol, usually taking the form of the labarum--the Chi-Rho sign with the vertical line of the Rho extended downward, so that the Chi forms the arms of a cross. Christians were also blessing themselves with the sign of the cross almost from Apostolic times. And many pre-Constantinian churches do feature crosses (unadorned) as part of their decorations. But you are correct in stating that visual depictions of the crucifixion (as opposed to a bare cross) did not become common until after Constantine. But by the late fourth or early fifth centuries, crucifixes were becoming a common element of Christian liturgical and devotional art, either in two-dimensional (iconic) or three-dimensional form.

Constantine outlawed crucifixion towards the end of his reign (though it continued to be practiced in pagan lands for some centuries longer) as being unfit for common criminals to die in the same manner as the Lord. The irony must have been lost on him.