By Jeff Scoggins

Because memorizing scripture is difficult work for most adults I think we underestimate the memorizing abilities of children. When he was two and a half years old our son, David, seemed to memorize long passages from books we read him just as easily as the short memory verses we purposely taught him from the weekly Bible lesson. His brain was like a dry sponge thirstily soaking up whatever we fed it.

That fact was sobering, first of all, when we realized that he was repeating more Mother Goose than Jesus, and secondly, because we weren’t taking full advantage of this time of easy learning to fill his brain with scripture. So my wife removed most of the Mother Goose books and I began repeating lengthy Bible passages to see if they might sink into his little head.

Since David preferred playing to eating back then, we had to entertain him during meals and feed him while he was distracted. It was a great time to teach Bible stories and verses. I started with the Lord’s Prayer and soon moved on to Psalm 23. “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want,” I chanted while serving up broccoli and peas. Quickly David took up the chant and I moved on, “He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside the still waters.” And so it went.

David soaked up the lines effortlessly. Not like me. I have to work hard at it. But unless I’m careful it is effortless for me to interpret scripture in a way that suits my personal ambitions. We all do it. It’s a superficial comfort to believe scripture backs up a pet desire, belief, or even vice. Apparently children are not exempt from the temptation to cast scripture in their own image. David quickly seized upon the idea.

I started the chant again and David took over. “The Lord is my shepherd, I want bananas!” he shouted with glee. Trying to stifle my laughter, I tried again. David immediately picked up. “He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me—onto the deck!” He was just two and half at the time. What am I in for at age 13?

Once again I have learned something of myself and human nature in general from my children. It happens with disturbing frequency these days. Someday I think I’ll write a list of everything my kids have taught me about human nature. But to be fair, they have taught me a lot about God as well.

We humans are supremely selfish. Our thoughts swirl continually around ourselves. We work doggedly for our own comfort and gratification, even though we don’t know what truly comforts and gratifies.

How often does God promise that we shall not want, yet we work ourselves to death for (or borrow for) what we think we want? How often does God promise to lead us beside still waters, but we decide we would prefer the deck—or the jacuzzi or the fishing boat?

God’s word is indeed more powerful than any double-edged sword when it’s allowed to speak for itself. But when I force it through the filter of my desires, or the filter of my opinions, or the filter of my comfort, I have cast God’s word in my own image, which is merely a form of godliness that denies the power (2 Tim. 3:5).

Copyright 2008 by Jeff Scoggins

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