There is a relatively new term making the rounds in parenting circles (and discussions): helicopter parent. This describes a mom or dad who hovers around their child, always watching, whether needed or not, and who swoops in to rescue their child at the first sign of trouble.While this is apparently a growing phenomena, it is also one that's being (rightly, I believe) criticized. Firstly, if a parent hovers too closely to their child that child is constantly recieving the message that they aren't to be trusted. This isn't the intent, of course, but it is the result. "You need me to be watching over you," is the message that the behavior itself is sending. "You're not safe/strong/smart/something enough to handle the world on your own." This is not, as you can imagine, the kind of message we want to be giving our children if we want them to grow up as strong, independent adults.
The second problem with this parental approach is like unto the first -- if the parent always swoops in to save the day whenever there's the slightest problem, the child has no opportunity to learn problem solving skills for her or himself. They'll always be looking for someone else to do things for them, waiting to be saved from every predicament.
This morning one of my children asked me to help him do something. Actually, to be more accurate, he asked me to "help" him by doing it for him. I told him that he could do it himself and made sure that he really did understand how. And then I let him do it. When he asked me why I didn't help him I told him that I had, and that now he'd not only done it but also knew he could do it himself and didn't need to wait on me to do it in the future. This doesn't mean that I never "help" him by doing things for him; I just want to make sure that he learns how much he's capable of doing on his own.
It strikes me that a lot of so-called "religious" folks have the idea of a helicopter God. This "God" they imagine is always hovering around, always watching, and ready to swoop in at a moment's notice. Of course, this isn't what people actually experience most of the time, but it's what they seem to expect. Let's unpack that last line a little bit.
When, as the saying goes, bad things happen to good people lots of folks turn their faces skyward and shout, "Why?!?!?!?" They wonder why God isn't "answering their prayers" -- by which they mean "fixing this problem in the way I want it to be fixed." Essentially, people are asking their "God" why God isn't helping them, by which they mean "doing it for them."
This is what turns a lot of people off from the very idea of "God," that their experience of living suggests that if there is such a thing as a "God" she/he/it is doing a really lousy job. Why is there so much suffering in the world? Why aren't my prayers being answered?
But what if God were more like a parent than we'd like to admit? This, of course, is all metaphor and analogy because whatever God might be God isn't really like anything we can conceive of. The inconceivable is just that -- inconceivable. But still, throughout time and across cultures people have imagined the divine as parent . . . and what if that metaphor has some real truth to it?
Well, then, wouldn't a helicopter God be just as bad as a helicopter parent? Wouldn't God's children be receiving the message that they aren't to be trusted? And wouldn't they have a hard time learning how to fix their own problems and clean up their own messes?
In the Gospel of Luke Jesus is remembered as saying, "Which of you [parents], if your child asks for a fish will give a snake instead? Or if you're asked for an egg, would give a scorpion? If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will God do for you?"
If God "is" a parent, then God is the greatest, most perfect parent possible. And a helicopter parent is just not an example of perfect parenting.
In Gassho,
RevWik
