What do you say? In the previous post, I encouraged grieving parents to receive everything as a gift.

But that’s not easy for them to do—especially at a time when they are confused, sad, and uncertain about their own future. (Who envisions their own future without their kids in the picture somewhere?)

Let me start with what not to say:

1. Do not — repeat! — do not pretend to speak for God. Keep your theology to yourself. If you think God needed another little flower in his garden, please don’t share that saccharine image with the parents. Trust me: it won’t help. (“God ought to get his OWN flower” would be a likely unspoken response.) Don’t say:

“Everything happens for a reason” (I heard this a lot)
“God is in this”
“We just have to trust that God’s doing something”

Please—this particular blog post isn’t the place for me to try to respond to these theologically questionable statements. From a merely practical side: these comments won’t help! When a child dies, everything is delicate. Don’t take a chance on tying God to the loss in ways that God hasn’t specifically told you to. The Christian conviction is that God is with us in our loss. He grieves, too. But the parents will have to come to know that through the dark valley of experience. It’s also true that God will “use” (that needs to be unpacked, I know) even this loss for his purposes. But again, this is something the ones in grief will have to recognize in the rearview mirror someday.

2. Do not attempt to diminish the pain.

“At least you have other kids.”
“At least it wasn’t like losing an older child.”
“At least she isn’t suffering any more.”

Rule of thumb: Don’t say anything that begins with “at least.”

3. Do not tell them you understand. Ok, if you’ve lost a child perhaps something like, “Our stories are so different, but they overlap. And as one who understands the pain, I’m so very sorry.” But other than that, don’t do it! The parent may come back and point out that you understand something about suffering. Great. But let the person in fresh grief make that connection.

4. Do not oversell the future. God will one day make things right. But this is not that day. As the writer of Ecclesiastes knew, there is a time to weep. This is that time.

So . . . what do you say? Here are some ideas:

- Nothing. Seriously, you don’t have to say anything. A nod, a hug, a tear—these are tomes of love. I remember an older woman putting her hand around my neck, kissing my check, and nodding. Her eyes were leaking. She spoke not one word, but all these years later she’s still comforting me through that moment.

- “I’m so sorry.” Less is more. This is enough: you’re sorry, you hate this for them, you’re with them.

- “I will be with you.” The fear is that everyone will rally around the funeral and bring chicken spaghetti for a week and then return to their lives and forget that your grief has just barely, BARELY begun.

- “I will never forget her (him).” Saying something about the child means that you will miss them but you will NOT forget them. We need that. (Just last week, a man who’s in his mid-40′s told me a Megan story from his college days—a story I either had forgotten or never knew. I felt like a little bit of her came back to me.) Eventually, this is something the parents may want you to explore more. What do you remember? What did you love about the child? What stories will stay with you?

- “I’m praying for you.” Good! You can work out all your theology in prayer. But the parents just need to know that others will be praying for them when they feel prayer less.

I’m guessing some will look back and wish you could take back some words you’ve offered from the past. It’s ok. We all learn as we go. I offer these suggestions not as a person mad at the insensitive things people say (although, trust me, I haven’t even begun to share the worst ones I’ve heard!) but as a friend who knows you mean well and want to help.

Remember this rule: if you don’t know what to say, nothing is just fine. Being present is the gift of gifts.

(More to follow in the series.)

Recently, a group of economists on the program (8/16/11) talked about parenting. Their opinion, from experience but much more from studies, is that the obsessive parenting that many engage in today—thinking their child’s future as an athlete or scholar or productive member of society is at stake!—is misguided.

They found that, on average, those who are parents are less happy than those who aren’t parents. And the reason is that they’re stressing themselves (and their kids!) out with the need to provide every possible opportunity. They push their child to read early or learn another language. They insist on shuttling around from soccer practice to karate to music lessons.

Is anything wrong with wanting your child to find something he or she excels in? Absolutely not.

But that has to be balanced with a sane pace. If your child plays regular baseball rather than the high-charged (and expensive) select baseball, it probably won’t keep him from being the next Albert Pujols. (If you don’t know who that is, type “best player in baseball” and go to the first entry.)

Recently the parenting ante just got raised by Amy Chua’s insistence that kids need a “Tiger Mother.” But Bryan Caplan, one of the economists, points out that Chua’s children have done well not because of the strict, high-achieving parental style but because their parents are best-selling authors and Yale professors. Genetics, not strict parenting.

used by permission

Here’s some sane advice from Caplan:

Struggling to mold your children isn’t just ineffective, but counter-productive. Pushing your child to be something he’s not rarely succeeds, but it often sours the relationship between parent and child. The Ask the Children survey asked over a thousand kids in grades three to twelve about their lives. Few kids feel starved for parental attention. Their big complaints are that parents are too tired, stressed, and angry. The lesson: More relaxed parenting is better for everyone. Stop pushing yourself so hard. Your child will turn out about the same, you’ll feel better about your life, and your child will feel better about you.

A while back I wrote about how pleasantly surprised we were by the message of the film “In Good Company.” By the previews it looked like a mindless plot about the romance between a hot-shot young executive (Topher Grace) and the college-age daughter (Scarlett Johansson) of the man whose place he took (Dennis Quaid) after a company buy-out.

But the romance is short-lived. The movie isn’t about that. Rather, it’s about the fathering of this young exec by the man he replaced. Near the end, he says to this older guy after being punched in the eye for sleeping with his daughter: “No one ever took the time to give me a hard time.”

What a great line.

I want to encourage all you younger parents out there in blogosphere. It is hard to be the parent who lovingly gives a hard time. It’s hard to be the one who enforces tv/computer time limits, homework, and bedtimes. It’s difficult to set age-appropriate limits to movies when “every other kids’ parents let them watch whatever they want.” It’s tough to be firm when you’re exhausted from work and life’s stresses.

But hang in there! Your kids are counting on you — whether they yet know it or not. (I just saw a teenager on the plane whose t-shirt had two words: NO LECTURES!)

Your children need to know that YOU are the parent. In too many homes, the children run everything by parents who are overly-eager to please. If they don’t like the Bible class, they don’t have to go. If they have more friends at another church, the family leaves. If they want to eat unhealthily — well, we reassure ourselves that at least they’re eating something. If there is a problem with a coach or a teacher, the child is always assumed to be right.

Be the adult! Be the loving, compassionate, tender, but very-much-in-charge parent! It’s one of life’s ironies: that the one thing kids say they don’t want (rules and limits) is what they need.

I’m not talking, of course, about being a tyrant or about being inflexible. I’m talking about being lovingly in charge.

It may seem to kids that parents who mind their own business, don’t serve vegies, let them wear whatever is in style, allow unlimited time on the net to chat, permit any movie to be shown when friends come over, and ask no questions about where they’re going in the evening are the cool parents.

Here’s my encouragement: Don’t try to be the cool parents. Be the parents who take the time and the love to give a hard time.

Eventually, when your kids age a bit, they’ll know that you really were the cool parents.

But then — as inevitably happens in marriage — they became upset with each other about something. “But it is almost impossible to take up a dance position with someone you are fighting with,” he learned.

They had a hard time dancing. But they found out that they could, in fact, practice dancing. It was something they had agreed to do. So they did. Anger seething and all.

“I put on the music and we stand in the middle of the living room floor like two hedgehogs negotiating an embrace. I take her right hand. Stiff. I place my right hand squarely on her back. She squirms as if in actual discomfort. Grand. We both want to say, ‘This is stupid — you can’t dance with someone you don’t even want to be in the same room with!’ But we lurch forward on the downbeat of Hi-Lilli, Hi-Lo, clomping woodenly through the waltz. It is ugly, but we do it. And afterward we nod at each other coolly as if to say, ‘So there.’”

Dancing at such a moment of conflict would have been tough; however, practicing a dance was negotiable. “When you’re in conflict with your partner, you can’t wait for reconciliation to hold one another and move in mirrored grace. You practice your way through the mess. In other words, dancers dance.”

Here’s his big discovery:

“We are sometimes enthralled by the romantic notion that, in intimate relationships, we ought not do or say anything we don’t truly feel. To do so would be dishonest. Wrong again. Usually we have to go through the motions to get to the emotions. . . .

“It is our family custom to hold hands when we say grace. We’ve done it since the children were old enough to join us at the table. Sometimes when we are in conflict, one or another person will decline to join hands. But more often than not we manage to close the circle. This act of intimacy does not mean that all parties are reconciled — the pitched argument continues right after the amen. It is simply a reminder that while we may be in a bitter war, we are fighting with those we dearly love. If action must wait upon feeling, it is impossible to hold someone’s hand — and ‘insincere’ to pray — in such a state of anger. Yet a moment’s thought tells us that intimacy in the midst of conflict is the true test of love. Anyone can hold a hand or say a prayer when they feel like it.

“In relationships, as in all of life, we are perfected by practice. It’s the one thing we can do even if we’re not sure we can do the real thing. If you can’t dance, you can practice dancing. If you can’t love, you can practice loving. If you can’t empathize or set aside anger or hold a hand, you can practice doing it. Sometimes the other person can’t tell the difference, and after a while, neither can you.”

We have one huge medical reference work in our house. I’m assuming that my son, who’s doing his medical residency in internal medicine now, will have more resources than that.

On the other hand, I have tons of commentaries. I’m guessing he and his wife won’t want shelves of them filling their house. But it would still be nice to have a good, reliable source for personal study or for the times one of them is asked to teach a Bible class.

That’s where The Transforming Word comes in. It’s an 1100-page commentary on all 66 books of the Bible — written by scholars from Churches of Christ, Christian Churches, and Disciples of Christ (including 24 people associated with ACU).

I’ve been working through the New Testament sections as I’ve come to the various books in my freshman Bible class. I’m so impressed with most of them.

A couple illustrations:

Last week, I read Mark Black’s short piece on Philemon. In just a few pages, he offered wonderful illumination of the world of slavery in the New Testament, the current trends in biblical scholarship in understanding the situation with Onesimus, and helpful insights into the gospeled way Paul addressed the situation.

A few weeks before, I looked at James Walters’ section on “the faith of Christ” in Romans 3. Unfortunately, many translations still follow Martin Luther by translating the phrase “faith in Christ.” That puts the emphasis on our response rather than on the foundational story of Jesus’ faithfulness and his self-giving love. (More on this some other time.)

The book is a bit pricey ($69.95), but that’s not bad for all you’re getting. I hope this finds a place in a lot of homes.

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Thanks to Erik for this article on my transition in The Christian Chronicle.

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Here’s what I did yesterday morning. She’s two today!

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This morning I attended a funeral for Kenneth Varner, a mentally handicapped man who spent most of his life at Highland. I loved hearing Buzzy Andress talk about how it was their job to live with Kenneth (and others through DRI — which was started by Kenneth’s parents and others) so they could assist and teach him. Buzzy said that it soon became clear that they were being taught and assisted by Kenneth, who understood well what it meant to be a loving human being.

I thought back to Henri Nouwen’s experience. And to my own fortune of being father to a mentally handicapped child, who was my greatest teacher.

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Has anyone else seen “Kings” the last couple weeks? This modern retelling of the story of King David is available on Hulu.

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Thanks to Scot McKnight for the plugs for this blog and Zoe. He did a great job at our conferences this year.

Megan Diane Cope (born August 26, 1984)

Here are a few shots from today. (She’s returning to NC with Mommy tomorrow.) The last look on her face might convey the sense that we both know it’s a bit naughty.

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I had a wonderful, quick trip to Pepperdine last week to speak in convocation with my sister-in-law Pam. I was once again impressed by the number of students there who have a passion for God’s mission in this world. I hated to miss the Tulsa workshop, though I sat it out as part of my attempt to regain sanity in my life — but I heard from my parents that it was strong.

This whole granddad thing is working for me. Some of you remember when this blog was about more than my granddaughter (significant things like guacamole, how to throw a two-seam fastball, etc.), but it’s been a while. This week I’m planning to discuss two very different books: one about Duane Allman (of the Allman Brothers Band) and one by N. T. Wright (of course!).

For now, here are a few pictures with the birthday girl.

Not only did they annihilate #15 Belmont (71-70) . . . but we found out that Matt, Jenna, and Reese will be moving to North Carolina, where Matt will be doing his residency in internal medicine at Duke.

HERE are a few pics from match day.

Matt last lived there when he was two years old. I was preaching for the Pine Valley Church in Wilmington. We have a great memory of our visit to Duke and to the Cole Mill Road Church in Durham.

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Don’t miss Garrison Keillor’s “A Pagan’s Thoughts at Eastertide.”

Here are a couple shots — one of Chris and his cousins on the putt-putt course: