Paper Dolls and Getting it "Right"

blog first published on October 2, 2017

Paper Dolls.  Have you ever made a chain of Paper Dolls?  It requires some precision in folding the paper in just the right way.  For the link between the paper people to work properly (making them ‘hold hands’) you also need to cut in just the correct places.  Unfurling the Paper Dolls can be a magical experience; the Dolls seem to multiply and hold hands all at the same time.  But that only happens if you’ve properly done the folding and the cutting.  Paper Dolls are not that forgiving and can quickly turn from being a delight to a public exercise in futility and shame.  Look, all of our Dolls are holding hands, but yours are not!  What a maroon you are! Ha Ha!

My first tragic episode with Paper Dolls occurred when I was a Sunday School student in Kindergarten.   Bethany Lutheran Church held its Sunday School classes in the small basement.  Please forgive my memory if I get the details a little messed up – it has been a few decades since I have been there.  Kindergarteners were in a separate basement room for their instruction; the Church Council also used this small room, which had an oversized boardroom table in the center, for their meetings if I’m not mistaken. 

In my three piece Sunday suit, I went to Sunday School.  By and large, it was a positive experience because the people who took care of the Sunday School, the teachers, were great and loving people.  They are among those with whom I share words of thanks for teaching me the Christian faith.  Thinking back, more important than any lessons was the love, acceptance, and encouragement that they communicated in their words, actions, and presence.  Within a context of gratitude, I share the following story, a critique of the process of education and NOT the people involved.  After all, the people were doing the very best they could according to what I’d call standard patterns of Sunday School education. 

One day in that Kindergarten room with the big boardroom table, the lesson involved a craft.  We must have been talking about ‘being one in Christ’ or ‘loving one another’ or something like that.  Those lessons, and rightfully so, were very much repeated.  My Sunday School teacher passed out the paper and safety scissors.  Knowing Mr. Warner, he probably described the directions with his signature big smile on his face.  Fold here and here.  Smile.  Cut here and here.  The details of what followed are now largely a blur, but it didn’t go well for me.  My Paper Dolls were not following Jesus’ command to love each other and hold hands.  I remember feeling ashamed that I didn’t get it right.  I’m sure I didn’t get into trouble for doing it wrong, but that is my emotional memory of the incident.  

The situation of the unlinked Paper Dolls serves as a metaphor for me as I think back on my Christian education.  Again, I do NOT fault the dedicated volunteer teachers or the overworked pastors who were ultimately responsible for the content (and had to deal with the political reality of folks not liking what the denominational publishing house produced or wanting to switch teams and use what the Baptists were using.)  The system of Sunday School and its graduate component, Confirmation, was to educate children and youth on the basics of the faith.  The purpose was to impart the wisdom and doctrines of the church to the next generation so they could make the Paper Dolls in the right way.  Our education was done with a sense of importance so that we would grow up to be good and knowledgeable members of the church and stay out of trouble (away from drugs and jail).  My teachers taught me how to make the Paper Dolls, where to fold and how to cut.  What else was there to know? 

Looking back, however, the educational focus was not unlike the one that I experienced in school.  I had to memorize concepts, names, dates, places.  I had to comprehend and parrot back explanations on stories from the Bible.  It was like Algebra and English – Faith was just another subject in which I needed to acquire competency.  I can’t say that all the efforts – on the part of teachers, pastors, and myself – ever resulted in a deepened spirituality or connection with God.  In fact, the image of God that was encouraged was one of the big Principal in the sky who wanted to make sure that I got good grades, stayed out of trouble, and could properly cut my Paper Dolls. 

We live in a context where Sunday Schools are currently in decline.  According to a 2015 article in USA Today;    

Between 1997 and 2004, churches lost tens of thousands of Sunday school programs, according to data from the Barna Group, and more recent studies show that enrollment has fallen across denominations. From 2004 to 2010, for example, Sunday school attendance dropped nearly 40 percent among Evangelical Lutheran churches in America and almost 8 percent among Southern Baptist churches, prompting speculation that the problem may be more than just a decline in American religiosity (https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation/2015/03/22/ozy-has-sun-set-on-sunday-school/25080073/)

The decline in participation in mainline churches certainly coincides with a reduction in Sunday School attendance.  With fewer people feeling a religious need to go to church, it makes sense that they won’t be sending their children to Sunday School to learn the faith.   What about the ‘drop-offs’ you say?  Didn’t we always have parents who dropped their kids off without going to worship?  Yes, but as the culture moves in a more secular direction, it is a matter of time before we see the ‘drop-off’ pattern stop.  Sadly, there is no longer a cultural value in many parts of the country for people to even have a ‘faith education.'  

My greater concern, however, is what happens after confirmation to youth and adults who remain ‘in the church.’  For most, faith education seems to stop after students ‘graduate’ confirmation.  We rightfully worry about the lack of youth participation in faith-based activities.  What we don’t concern ourselves as much with is the lack of adult participation in Bible studies and faith education.  This should be as much a concern.   Is it any wonder that our youth don’t become involved in greater numbers? Where are their parents?  

Is part of the reason for lack of participation in adult ed simply because adults see as much need for additional faith education as they have for additional math and science classes?  Education is something that you do when you are starting out.  You learn what you need to be a productive member of society, and then you go on to other things – like jobs, family, pastimes, sports, etc.   The average person knows what they need to know from their education when they were young.  That is true for reading, writing, arithmetic, and I would also guess that most would say for faith too!

But here is the catch – faith is not something we can learn once and then live with a basic competency.  Faith is not an object to be comprehended or a subject for us to master.  You can’t give a proficiency test for the faith that involves coloring in circles with a number two pencil.  Faith is more about relationships than it is about doctrines and content.  Faith is a matter of breathing and being.  Faith grows and dies in the crucible of our life experiences.  There are moments of clarity followed by deep and disturbing doubts.  Faith is formed in the spaces of our hearts, souls, interactions, as well as in our thought processes.

The notion that a child can go to six years of Sunday School, three years of Confirmation, and they are 'set' for the rest of their lives of 'faith' is preposterous, and yet that is what many in the Christian church have accepted as normative.  There is a church-wide need for us to become life-long learners and growers in faith.   It seems to me that we need to start this reform by shifting our language from education to formation.  I hope that we can begin to imagine something different, more life-giving and generative than correctly making Paper Dolls.

Permission granted to share with family and friends.  Copyrighted 2017. Walt Lichtenberger