On not sparing the rod

The thing about handling story time at church is that you have to establish a credible threat of violence. Those five year-olds may not be able to tie their shoes, but they can spot a pacifist a mile out. Since we're mostly not allowed to spank other people's children any more -- and often not even our own -- you have to be a good bluffer to manage a roomful of unruly children.

Or you can just go ahead and do what my wife did the last time we had story time duty, and swat the behind of the first child to test you. I've heard it said that nothing gets the attention of adults like the sound of a pump-action shotgun being chambered. I don't know if that's true, but I am fairly certain that nothing gets the attention of a group of youngsters -- many of whom are with you because their parents can't make them behave in church, or anywhere else, for that matter -- like the sound of a firm hand slapping a fanny. With two swats my wife adjusted one attitude quite nicely, and served notice to several other hellions that there was a whole pile more where that came from.

And suddenly, there was peace. The newly disciplined child, who doesn't see much order elsewhere, became my wife's shadow and new best friend. The usual slappers and toy-stealers decided to keep their hands to themselves. And the sweet children got to play without fear of thuggery. There was a new sheriff in town, and her name was Mrs. Woodlief.

I was, meanwhile, Barney Fife: big talker, comic relief, and generally harmless. But it didn't matter, because we all knew who the quick draw in the room was.

Some people claim they can do without spanking, and seem to raise their single mild-mannered child fairly well with time-outs. Others beat their children at odd intervals, and call that spanking, and wonder why it doesn't work. Many spank appropriately, and some have managed to get by with virtually no spankings, often because they were so consistent in the early years. Consistency and appropriateness seem to be key: when those elements are in place in whatever form of discipline a parent chooses, I'm struck by how much happier children are.

I had a guitar teacher many years ago, who was the mother of a toddler. She told me one day that she had been raised by strict parents, and that she wasn't going to give her child a lot of rules and discipline. She wanted him to be a free spirit. I can only imagine how miserable that boy must have been, never certain of boundaries, and therefore never feeling safe, or certain that there is right and wrong. His mother at least had the consistency part right -- she fashioned an artificial world for her child in which sin consistently was without consequences. I wonder how he is finding the real world these days.

It's hard work, being consistent. I fail at it often enough, especially with four boys, each of whom has his own way of testing the edges. But we shouldn't kid ourselves about who we're really going easy on, when we choose to let a lie or disrespect or laziness slide. When we spoil our children in those ways (which is an apt way of phrasing the matter, when you think about it), we are choosing our immediate comfort over their long-term well-being. We are loving ourselves more than them.

And it shows. He who spares the rod, after all, hates his child. So I say, to parents of unruly children: love your children more often. Or bring them to story time, and we'll love them for you.