Sometimes it is driven home to me the insane-ness of trying to explain unexplainable things.

I am currently working on a series of Bible reflections for children. Some I have already used in my own Religious Ed classroom, and the rest I try on my own guinea children. The one I am currently working on is a reflection on the Trinity.

As I endevour to write a simple reflection on the awesome mystery of the Trinity for 5-10 year olds, the irony of the situation hits me. I do not even understand the Trinity! The Catechism states “The Trinity is a mystery of faith in the strict sense, one of the “mysteries that are hidden in God, which can never be known unless they are revealed by God”" (CCC, n.237). That being said, it seems silly for me to try to explain it.

Parenthood in general is like that, isn’t it? A series of absurd tasks that no job description in the business world can compete with.

I love Allison Pearson’s book I Don’t Know How She Does It (Alfred A. Knopf, 2002), about overworked, confused mom and businesswoman Kate Reddy. While not morally squeaky-clean, the book has so much humor and reality in it, I alternately laugh and cry every time I read it.

I love the part where Kate’s daughter, Emily, questions her about God, Jesus, and death. Kate reflects,

“Emily’s questions often shock me, but not as much as the fact that I’m allowed to give her any answer I like. I can tell her there is a God or that there is not a God, I can tell her Oasis were better than Blur, although by the time she’s old enough to buy albums there won’t be albums anymore and Madonna will be as distant as Haydn . I can tell her that Cary Grant is in a dead heat for the title of Greatest Englishman with William Shakespeare, I can encourage her to support a football team, or I can tell her sport is incredibly boring, I can advise her to be careful who she gives her virginity to or I can give her brisk early advice on contraception. I can suggest she start paying a quarter of her annual income into an index-linked pension as soon as possible or I can tell her love is the answer. I can tell her any damn thing I like, and that freedom feels both amazing and appalling.” (pp. 202-203)

 

It is so true. A world full of information that we, as parents, are the filter for. At least for a while. Because that is the whole point, isn’t it. There comes a time when we are no longer interpreting the world for our children. They do it on their own.  Hopefully we can teach them how to see for themselves through all the muck, mire, and lies that are out there.

All that being said - it is time for me to go attempt the impossible. Explaining the Trinity or raising children? Perhaps, both.