If God Will Send His Angels
My Lovely Bride has long been a staunch advocate for the Boy(s) in all matters of the TV. What they can and cannot watch. She has strong opinions. As do I. Which makes this a rare instance in our otherwise copacetic union where we do not see eye-to-eye.
I won't do her the discourtesy of outlining what she thinks, beyond telling you that she feels that the Boy(s) should not watch programs like Family Guy as well as certain PG13 movies that are scary, gory, or violent. An R movie. Forget about it.
As for me. I'm pretty fine with them watching that sort of thing, as long as they watch it with me or My Lovely Bride, so we can explain if necessary or field any questions that may arise.
I'd probably hold this view regardless, as it is pretty much in line with my personality, but after doing a few years of SIM (what our church used to call the Children Sunday School program) I'm convinced it is a good course.
You see BLOG reader, I taught a big group of kids over a three or four year period, which allowed me to develop a trusting relationship with most of them (one of my things was I'd never rat them out on something they told me, or said in class, unless said thing put them or someone else, in harm's way.)
Therefore those kids shared many things with me over the years, often what they watched on TV. Or saw in a movie. Or the internet. Things that most of their parents had NO idea that they'd seen, because those parents didn't let their kids watch that kind of stuff. In fact, I'd heard many of the parents actually say that, only to hear later that their kid had in fact seen whatever it was, or something far worse.
I'm no kid expert. Fuck. I'm Captain Inappropriate. Still, I think it fair to say, that kids are going to watch stuff they want to watch. And the more titillating or forbidden you make it, the more they are going to want to watch it.
Which is why I'm fine with my Boy(s) watching most anything as long as me or My Lovely Bride is in attendance.
You may disagree with me. My Lovely Bride certainly does. And while I honor her view on the subject, and won't cross her line, I did somehow luck into crossing it one time with The Simpsons which has become a staple at Casa Tinsley.
I tell you all that for this. While hanging out with Boy #1 on the swings at the school park where Boy #2 practices football he asked this: "What does Matt Groening look like?"
A few punches on my trusty robot phone later, I showed the Boy a picture of Matt Groening from wikipedia.
"How old is he?"
"He was born in 1954, so he is...insert pause as my stupid ass tries to do the math...fifty-seven." I said.
"What religion is he?"
That might sound like a strange question for a nearly ten year old Boy to ask, but in watching The Simpsons I usually make a point of pointing out their jokes on religion.
Example.
Treehouse of Horror XX, Don't Have a Cow, Mankind where Krusty Burger introduces Burger 2. A burger made from cattle that have eaten other cattle in their feed. Genius. The unholy combinations turns nearly everyone into zombies, or munchers as they are called. Eventually Bart, tired of eating fruit, gets out of their barricaded house, eats the infected burger, and turns out to be immune. This makes Bart the key to a cure and The Simpsons head for the safe zone outside the city. Fast forward through a lot of funny shit, and the family make it to the safe zone with an infected Homer, where Bart, being immune to the muncher virus, is worshipped at the chosen one. Only problem is all the people in the safe zone think they have to eat Bart in order to become immune which leads Marge to say: What kind of civilized people eat the body and blood of their savior?"
I think that is a funny joke. I'm sure it is highly offensive to many. Especially Catholics (no offense to any Catholics reading this right about now, funk show brother.) But I can laugh at these type of jokes because I'm a big believer that God and/or Jesus don't need my help in such matters. And laughing at something like this isn't a one way ticket to hell. A great example of how I feel about such things can be found over on the Team Tinsley BLOG—If you give a shit—in a story titled Stand Up Comedy where the very Boy asking about Matt Groening's religion desecrated a church lap pad cover.
"What religion is he?" The Boy asked.
"It says he is agnostic." I answered.
The Boy stopped swinging long enough to give me a look that indicated he had no idea what agnostic meant.
"You know what an atheist means? Or is?" I asked.
"Kind of."
"An atheist believes there is no God." I said.
"An agnostic person is someone who doesn't believe in God or not believe in God. They are kind of in the middle. 'Cause they can't prove God exists." I explained.
"Yeah."
"But you also can't prove that God doesn't exist either." I said.
"They always say that God doesn't exist."
"Who?" I asked.
"On the history and science shows. The ones about aliens."
"Who is to say that God didn't create aliens." I asked.
"Do you think aliens exist?"
"I don't know." I said.
"I don't either."
"A lot of that stuff you are talking about is quasi-history or science. It is more about entertaining and getting people to watch it than real." I said.
"But (insert friend's name who is into conspiracy theories and all that type of shit) said that they really found a spaceship in the desert in olden times."
"That's what a lot of people will tell you. I'm not sure I believe it." I said.
"Yeah. Me either."
"I'm agnostic when it comes to aliens." I laughed.
"Nice." He said. "What about God?"
Sweet Mother of all that is good. The big question. And at flag football practice on a Wednesday night while swinging.
Fuck me.
I should note here that I have a zealous need to always be honest with my Boy(s.) And the God question, well for me, and as fucked up as this might sound to you reading this now, is a lot like Santa Claus and/or The Tooth Fairy. Not to imply God is made-up, or fabricated to keep us on the nice list. It also doesn't mean that I don't believe in God. What it means is that I don't know for sure. I can't prove it. And if I don't know something for sure, it is damn near impossible for aboynamedstu to give the Boy(s) a definitive answer. Which I'm sure sounds weird. Hell it sounds weird to me, and it is me.
To my credit I didn't panic. Instead I trotted out my old stand-by, a question with a question.
"What do you believe?" I asked.
He ignored me. Changing his tack.
"Jesus was real, right?"
Fuck me. The nearly 10 year old version of Boy #1 has me figured out!
"You mean from a historical perspective?" I asked.
"Yeah."
"Yes. I believe there's mention of a Galilean Jew named Jesus in historical records from the time. Not the Son of Man type of stuff. Son of God. Nothing like that. Just some dude named Jesus who went to Jerusalem type of records."
"He was real then?"
"Yes. Or wait. Son of God real. Or real real?" I said. "If you believe scholars he was real real. A man. But Son of God thing. There's not proof."
"I think he was, or is real."
"The thing with all that stuff Boy. It comes down to faith. 'Cause you can't prove it. Not in any scientific, I know for sure kind of a way." I said.
"Yeah."
"Look at it like this, Boy." I said.
"Doing all the stuff you do with church. At church. Believing in God. In Jesus. The Holy Spirit. Simply believing. Everything that comes from that. Is it bad? Does it hurt anyone. Or anything?" I said.
"What do you mean?"
I repeated what I said finishing with, "There's not a right or wrong answer with this Boy. It is simply what you believe."
"Yeah." He said.
"Here is what I think. Or believe. I don't think it is bad. It doesn't hurt anyone. Although some use it to hurt, but that's an entirely different discussion. Doing unto others. The golden rule. Helping the poor. The sick. Being part of a community. Being thankful. Mindful or prayerful. All of that is good." I said.
"Yeah."
"And as crazy as this might sound, it would be good if there wasn't a God. Just as it is good if there is a God."
Nothing. Just a deep look as he considered what I said. Those brown eyes, my Mom's eyes, my eyes, watching me swing.
"I can't tell you that there is or isn't a God. You'll have to make those decisions on your own. I can tell you what I think. Or believe. But in the end you got to decide for yourself. If it's going to mean anything. And you have to remember you can't just think with your head. You have to think with your heart, too." I said.
His reply.
Simply.
Yeah.
Which is fine with me.
You may disagree with me. My Lovely Bride certainly does. But watching The Simpsons is a good thing, because if we never watched it together (I'm sure the Boy would have watched it by now, but he wouldn't have brought it with me) the above discussion would have never happened.
Still I won't cross My Lovely Bride's line. I honor her decision. Her opinion too much to ever go against her wishes. I do wonder though what subjects would come up if she let us watch Family Guy.
Until I BLOG again...Would everything be alright?
I won't do her the discourtesy of outlining what she thinks, beyond telling you that she feels that the Boy(s) should not watch programs like Family Guy as well as certain PG13 movies that are scary, gory, or violent. An R movie. Forget about it.
As for me. I'm pretty fine with them watching that sort of thing, as long as they watch it with me or My Lovely Bride, so we can explain if necessary or field any questions that may arise.
I'd probably hold this view regardless, as it is pretty much in line with my personality, but after doing a few years of SIM (what our church used to call the Children Sunday School program) I'm convinced it is a good course.
You see BLOG reader, I taught a big group of kids over a three or four year period, which allowed me to develop a trusting relationship with most of them (one of my things was I'd never rat them out on something they told me, or said in class, unless said thing put them or someone else, in harm's way.)
Therefore those kids shared many things with me over the years, often what they watched on TV. Or saw in a movie. Or the internet. Things that most of their parents had NO idea that they'd seen, because those parents didn't let their kids watch that kind of stuff. In fact, I'd heard many of the parents actually say that, only to hear later that their kid had in fact seen whatever it was, or something far worse.
I'm no kid expert. Fuck. I'm Captain Inappropriate. Still, I think it fair to say, that kids are going to watch stuff they want to watch. And the more titillating or forbidden you make it, the more they are going to want to watch it.
Which is why I'm fine with my Boy(s) watching most anything as long as me or My Lovely Bride is in attendance.
You may disagree with me. My Lovely Bride certainly does. And while I honor her view on the subject, and won't cross her line, I did somehow luck into crossing it one time with The Simpsons which has become a staple at Casa Tinsley.
I tell you all that for this. While hanging out with Boy #1 on the swings at the school park where Boy #2 practices football he asked this: "What does Matt Groening look like?"
A few punches on my trusty robot phone later, I showed the Boy a picture of Matt Groening from wikipedia.
"How old is he?"
"He was born in 1954, so he is...insert pause as my stupid ass tries to do the math...fifty-seven." I said.
"What religion is he?"
That might sound like a strange question for a nearly ten year old Boy to ask, but in watching The Simpsons I usually make a point of pointing out their jokes on religion.
Example.
Treehouse of Horror XX, Don't Have a Cow, Mankind where Krusty Burger introduces Burger 2. A burger made from cattle that have eaten other cattle in their feed. Genius. The unholy combinations turns nearly everyone into zombies, or munchers as they are called. Eventually Bart, tired of eating fruit, gets out of their barricaded house, eats the infected burger, and turns out to be immune. This makes Bart the key to a cure and The Simpsons head for the safe zone outside the city. Fast forward through a lot of funny shit, and the family make it to the safe zone with an infected Homer, where Bart, being immune to the muncher virus, is worshipped at the chosen one. Only problem is all the people in the safe zone think they have to eat Bart in order to become immune which leads Marge to say: What kind of civilized people eat the body and blood of their savior?"
I think that is a funny joke. I'm sure it is highly offensive to many. Especially Catholics (no offense to any Catholics reading this right about now, funk show brother.) But I can laugh at these type of jokes because I'm a big believer that God and/or Jesus don't need my help in such matters. And laughing at something like this isn't a one way ticket to hell. A great example of how I feel about such things can be found over on the Team Tinsley BLOG—If you give a shit—in a story titled Stand Up Comedy where the very Boy asking about Matt Groening's religion desecrated a church lap pad cover.
"What religion is he?" The Boy asked.
"It says he is agnostic." I answered.
The Boy stopped swinging long enough to give me a look that indicated he had no idea what agnostic meant.
"You know what an atheist means? Or is?" I asked.
"Kind of."
"An atheist believes there is no God." I said.
"An agnostic person is someone who doesn't believe in God or not believe in God. They are kind of in the middle. 'Cause they can't prove God exists." I explained.
"Yeah."
"But you also can't prove that God doesn't exist either." I said.
"They always say that God doesn't exist."
"Who?" I asked.
"On the history and science shows. The ones about aliens."
"Who is to say that God didn't create aliens." I asked.
"Do you think aliens exist?"
"I don't know." I said.
"I don't either."
"A lot of that stuff you are talking about is quasi-history or science. It is more about entertaining and getting people to watch it than real." I said.
"But (insert friend's name who is into conspiracy theories and all that type of shit) said that they really found a spaceship in the desert in olden times."
"That's what a lot of people will tell you. I'm not sure I believe it." I said.
"Yeah. Me either."
"I'm agnostic when it comes to aliens." I laughed.
"Nice." He said. "What about God?"
Sweet Mother of all that is good. The big question. And at flag football practice on a Wednesday night while swinging.
Fuck me.
I should note here that I have a zealous need to always be honest with my Boy(s.) And the God question, well for me, and as fucked up as this might sound to you reading this now, is a lot like Santa Claus and/or The Tooth Fairy. Not to imply God is made-up, or fabricated to keep us on the nice list. It also doesn't mean that I don't believe in God. What it means is that I don't know for sure. I can't prove it. And if I don't know something for sure, it is damn near impossible for aboynamedstu to give the Boy(s) a definitive answer. Which I'm sure sounds weird. Hell it sounds weird to me, and it is me.
To my credit I didn't panic. Instead I trotted out my old stand-by, a question with a question.
"What do you believe?" I asked.
He ignored me. Changing his tack.
"Jesus was real, right?"
Fuck me. The nearly 10 year old version of Boy #1 has me figured out!
"You mean from a historical perspective?" I asked.
"Yeah."
"Yes. I believe there's mention of a Galilean Jew named Jesus in historical records from the time. Not the Son of Man type of stuff. Son of God. Nothing like that. Just some dude named Jesus who went to Jerusalem type of records."
"He was real then?"
"Yes. Or wait. Son of God real. Or real real?" I said. "If you believe scholars he was real real. A man. But Son of God thing. There's not proof."
"I think he was, or is real."
"The thing with all that stuff Boy. It comes down to faith. 'Cause you can't prove it. Not in any scientific, I know for sure kind of a way." I said.
"Yeah."
"Look at it like this, Boy." I said.
"Doing all the stuff you do with church. At church. Believing in God. In Jesus. The Holy Spirit. Simply believing. Everything that comes from that. Is it bad? Does it hurt anyone. Or anything?" I said.
"What do you mean?"
I repeated what I said finishing with, "There's not a right or wrong answer with this Boy. It is simply what you believe."
"Yeah." He said.
"Here is what I think. Or believe. I don't think it is bad. It doesn't hurt anyone. Although some use it to hurt, but that's an entirely different discussion. Doing unto others. The golden rule. Helping the poor. The sick. Being part of a community. Being thankful. Mindful or prayerful. All of that is good." I said.
"Yeah."
"And as crazy as this might sound, it would be good if there wasn't a God. Just as it is good if there is a God."
Nothing. Just a deep look as he considered what I said. Those brown eyes, my Mom's eyes, my eyes, watching me swing.
"I can't tell you that there is or isn't a God. You'll have to make those decisions on your own. I can tell you what I think. Or believe. But in the end you got to decide for yourself. If it's going to mean anything. And you have to remember you can't just think with your head. You have to think with your heart, too." I said.
His reply.
Simply.
Yeah.
Which is fine with me.
You may disagree with me. My Lovely Bride certainly does. But watching The Simpsons is a good thing, because if we never watched it together (I'm sure the Boy would have watched it by now, but he wouldn't have brought it with me) the above discussion would have never happened.
Still I won't cross My Lovely Bride's line. I honor her decision. Her opinion too much to ever go against her wishes. I do wonder though what subjects would come up if she let us watch Family Guy.
Until I BLOG again...Would everything be alright?
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