That Time I Accidentally Became a Confirmation Teacher

Me? Are you sure?

would you trust this woman with your children?

Maybe it’s human nature to assume the next generation will have the same beliefs as their parents. From birth I was marinated in Bible stories—I can’t recall the first time I learned about Adam and Eve, the Good Samaritan, or Jesus, they’ve so long been part of my consciousness.

So it was a big shock when my then-seven-year-old son picked up a Little People Noah’s ark toy in a doctor’s waiting room and, upon examining the plastic patriarch exclaimed, “I didn’t know Santa had a boat!”

Santa!!!!!

Throughout my kids’ lives, we’ve been weekly churchgoers, then church quitters, and then church dabblers. Having gone back-and-forth several times on what we believe, my husband and I have struggled with what to teach our kids. Should we read them the Bible? Even the gross parts?

Many parents in our shoes simply opt out of religious education altogether. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that our kids needed a spiritual counterweight to the selfish blitz of consumerism that is American culture. But what?

I turned to my pastor friend, Darla, for help. If, spiritually, I’m a feral cat, Darla is the person who puts out a little kibble on her porch but doesn’t pressure me to come inside and never takes my hissing personally. Since our tiny progressive church didn’t have a confirmation class, was there one in the neighborhood she could recommend?

The reason my mind went to confirmation was that my oldest son was 12, the age I was when I went through confirmation in the Presbyterian Church (USA.) Over the course of the year I learned that Presbyterians invented democracy and that the chief end of man was to, “Glorify God and enjoy him forever.” I didn’t want that, but I did want…something.

Soon Darla and I were discussing what a hypothetical confirmation curriculum for our offbeat progressive church could look like, and before you could say “voluntold” it was a real class and I was the assistant teacher.

We had limited time and a lot of ground to cover: an overview of the Bible (plus how to find verses in it), the history of the Lutheran church, and explaining sacraments, rituals, and other parts of community life within a church. Also there would be a SERVICE PROJECT.

We didn’t want to feed them answers to regurgitate, we wanted to give them enough background to form their own questions and beliefs. It was one part education, one part discussion, and one part coming-of-age ritual.

I felt pretty confident about this plan. I pride myself on being a chill, free-range kind of mom; and I was sure that I could bring this Zen vibe to confirmation class. Surely, these kids would be blown away by both my inclusive theology and my impressive grasp of Gen Alpha slang (no cap!)

Sure, the kids would have questions and misgivings, but eventually they’d all come to see me as a kind of spiritual role model. I pictured my son and I having deep talks on the car ride home, his tween sass melting before the power of my wisdom and empathy. Our first-ever confirmation class was going to be AWESOME!!!

And then my visions of guru-dom collided with the reality of tweens.

To be continued…

What’s your experience with spiritual education? Were you confirmed? Bar/bat mitzvah’d? If you’re a parent, have you figured out a genius way to teach values to your kids? Share your thoughts in the comments.

BONUS MATERIALS

• Related post: The Extreme Weirdness of Trying to Buy a Bible for My Kids

• Meredith Miller
  ‘s Substack has some great, open-ended, progressive Christian kids’ lessons for those so inclined

• brush up on your Gen Alpha slang with this hilarious vid