The Unfolding Life A Study of Development with Reference to Religious Training — Edition Insights

This thought has been suggested in connection with personality and environment, but it demands separate emphasis. It is not an easy thing in the stress of the visible to remember the greater power of the Invisible. The most earnest Christian worker is sometimes overwhelmed by discouragement or, again, unduly confident because of the perfection of system and method, forgetting that God knows no obstacle, and that He alone can put life into a plan of work.

But though God uses men and methods, He does not always so approach a life He deals directly with a soul through the influence of the Holy Spirit, and life receives its most holy nurture in those sacred hours. Therefore, the highest service permitted a Sunday School teacher is to pray effectually for the brooding Spirit to rest upon the pupils in his class. The mother can do nothing which shall mean so much for the precious life in her arms as learning, herself, the secret of prevailing prayer, for, "If we ask anything according to His Will, He heareth us; and if we know that He heareth us, whatsoever we ask, we know that we have the petitions which we have asked of Him." Therefore, O Lord, "Teach us to pray."

(2) Conscious Nourishment.

This is definite instruction so given to a life that it is appropriated. A large part of attempted instruction is never taken in. "I have told you over and over again," says the despairing mother, but telling does not always involve receiving. Placing nourishing food before the boy does not necessarily mean stronger muscle and purer blood. He must eat and digest it. Teaching, to be nourishment, requires first, careful adaptation of the subject matter, then presentation in such a way that the mind will voluntarily reach out, lay hold upon and assimilate it. God again gives the key to real teaching in the word "engraft." Its process in the physical and mental world is identical. First, the delicate adjustment, then a vital union, and lastly, new life resulting.

2. The Watch Care over Activity.

We have considered nurture in its work of supplying the best nourishment to growing souls, and now its care for activity must be noted. Since the subject will be discussed more fully in a succeeding chapter, only the necessity for the nurture will be considered here. This necessity appears in the four-fold result of activity.

This is the first result to the child from ceaseless movement of hands and feet and eager eyes. In early life he is not conscious of seeking the new experience, he only wants to be in motion. In later life, energy is definitely put forth for some desired end. But whatever the motive, experiences helpful or harmful, according to the sort of activity, result, and they enter character at par value.

(2) Growth or Increase in Size.

Activity is necessary before anything given to the body or the soul can become a part of life. Food must be acted upon by the digestive, circulatory and assimilative organs to make it bone and muscle and nerve. The mind must think upon the fact in order to add it to the store of knowledge. The heavenly vision must be obeyed before Christian experience is enlarged by it.

But there is another aspect of this same thought. Just as truly as activity must precede assimilation, so truly does assimilation follow activity. It may be stated more simply in this way. Nothing can become a part of the life until it has been acted upon; when it has been acted upon it can not be taken out of the life. When digestion is finished and the food is bone and muscle, it can not be withdrawn. When the idea has been thought in or acted upon, it has by that process become a part of the life, and though it may fade from memory its influence is abiding.

(3) Development or Increase of Power and Skill.

Every muscle exercised gains greater freedom. Every knotty problem mastered means increased mental ability. Every victory means greater power in resisting temptation. Whatever the action, whether good or bad, helpful or harmful, greater skill and power in that direction follows it.

This other very important fact needs to be clear, that no amount of energy put forth for another will mean development for him. He must exercise his own arm for strength and solve his own problem. Development only comes through the effort of each individual for himself; hence the best teacher is the one who can rouse the pupil to the greatest endeavor.

It is impossible to act, physically, mentally or spiritually, without making it easier to repeat the action, and soon ease passes to tendency, then tendency to compulsion, and life is in the grip of a habit. This is the inevitable outcome of activity, until "nine-tenths of life is lived in the mould of habit."

If it be true that habit is "ten times second nature," the importance of directing activity toward the formation of right habits needs no discussion.

IV. The Fourth Principle of unfolding life deals with its crises. "The crucial points in development are those times when new possibilities begin to unfold."

The life comes from God complete in its possibilities, but at the beginning all is in germ. As life progresses, development of these possibilities proceeds, but it is not uniform. The body acquires ability to control the larger muscles before it can adjust the finer and more complex ones, as instanced in the child's ability to walk before he can thread a needle. The mind is able to imagine before it can reason clearly. The feelings center on self before they reach out to the world around. As every new possibility begins to develop, two serious facts must be remembered:

(1) Direction must be given in the beginning before tendencies are fixed.

A beginning is always a time of easy adjustment and flexibility. Business corporations can readily alter a course of action before a policy has been established. The nurseryman can easily secure the straight trunk of the mature tree in the yielding sapling. The law is just as true when it touches human life. The trend of any possibility is determined largely in the beginning of its unfolding. After that time has gone by, conditions are practically fixed, and he that is unjust will be unjust still, and he that is holy will be holy still.

(2) Future strength and vigor are largely determined in the beginning of development.

It is well nigh impossible to overcome the effect of early neglect. If the culture of the growing stalk is passed over, the corn in the ear can not be full. If the bodily needs of the boy are unmet, he can not reach his full development as a man. If his budding intellectual life, his awakening feeling life, or the delicate unfolding of his spiritual life is neglected, a complete, rounded out maturity is impossible. A starved childhood is always the prophecy of a stunted manhood, while life nourished in its beginning foretells vigorous maturity.

V. The very important question now arises, "How may these crucial times be recognized?" The answer is given in the Fifth Principle. "A new interest always accompanies an awakening possibility."

The increasing love of a story discloses a growing imagination. The passionate hero worship of a boy's heart reveals the fact of a budding ideal. The interest in clubs and desire for companionship tell of awakening social feelings. Life is always the exponent of its own need to one who cares to know, and it further reveals what should be given it, and how.

VI. The Sixth Principle has already been touched upon in the preceding discussion, but it needs the emphasis of special statement, because of its importance. "Development is from within, out, through what is absorbed, not from without, in, through external application without absorption."

If development were a matter of external application, the post would grow and the stone and the stick, because they have earth and air and moisture around them. If it came from without, in, the most admonished child would be the best, the most talked to pupil the wisest, but the reverse is usually true. That which adheres simply to the surface of rock and child is veneer, which the testing circumstance will rub off. Only that which is assimilated is of any value to the life.

These are the great principles revealed in the development of life from infancy to maturity. The factor of human contact appears in every one. The question, "What is my touch upon this unfolding life?" can not be evaded. The stonecutter takes the marble and hews out the rough block; the sculptor finds its hidden soul. The artisan takes the canvas and the common sign appears; the artist makes it immortal. But God gives life to parents and teachers to fashion. Will hands clumsy and unskilled, miss the perfect beauty, or the touch of master workmanship bring forth a likeness to the Christ?

The first period of life, Early Childhood, includes the years from birth to about six or, in Sunday School phraseology, the "Cradle Roll," from birth to three, and the "Beginners," from three to six.

It is a temptation to note at length the marvelous achievements of a little life in its earliest years, as it comes,

"Out from the shore of the great unknown, Blind and wailing and alone, Into the light of day. * * * * *. "From the unknown sea that reels and rolls, Specked with the barks of little souls, Barks that were launched on the other side, And slipped from Heaven on an ebbing tide."

The wealth of material, however, clustering around each period of developing life is so great that selection must be made. Therefore only those facts illuminating the chosen theme of religious nurture will be considered.

The baby's world is a "big, blooming, buzzing confusion," according to James, but gradually, cosmos emerges from chaos. The senses, clouded at first, become clear and active. Adjustment and voluntary control of the larger muscles are secured. The art of walking is mastered, and the great feat of learning a language practically unaided, is well under way. The awakening mind learns to know certain objects and simplest relationships within a very limited sphere, and through ceaseless activity, new experiences are constantly coming in to the soul.

Guided by instinct and impulse, responding to any wind that blows, sensitive and retentive as the plate of a camera,

"Just a-yearning To be learning Anything at all,"

can any religious nurture be given to this tiny little bundle of possibilities? Manifestly, it will not be through precept and admonition, for they are meaningless, yet never will life be more open to the influences of impression and atmosphere than at this time. The child can not understand their import as they come, but he will feel them. He does not understand love, but he feels it. He can not comprehend personality, but his restless little body grows quiet in the tender arms of a strong father. He responds to the fretfulness or gentleness of the mother, the noisy confusion or peace of the home. These multitudinous impressions become his life, though he can not grasp their meaning.

Just as surely does he drink in impressions which have the Divine element. What they speak to him only God knows, but some message is theirs. The picture of the "Good Shepherd," of "Jesus Blessing Little Children," of the "Madonna and Child," perform their silent ministry to his soul. He is peculiarly sensitive to the reverence and worship in lofty music. In the evening tide of a Sabbath day, a father was seated at the piano, while the two older children stood near, and a wee one of two and a half years listened from his mother's arms. The songs used in Sunday School were sung one after the other, and then came the baby voice, "Papa, sing about Dod." "Do you mean, 'Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord'?" he asked. "Yes," was the answer, and in the hush of the twilight, the worship of the children blended with the worship of the angels, and who shall say they did not all behold the Father's face?

The nurture of these years is as silent as that of the dewdrop upon the blade of grass, but it is as real. God's voice is the still, small voice that ever speaks in quietness. The stillness of the moment at the mother's knee, the prayer repeated in the reverent, low tone of the mother's voice, the earnest prayer for him offered in his presence, the Christ-like living in the home, all carry their holy influence to his soul. He feels God, without knowing Him. But there shall come a day when the Voice that has gently called him will be recognized, and he will say, "Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth."

But general nurture must be supplemented by the definite nurture of each growing possibility. Though the principles underlying this careful watch care and training are stated in connection with Early Childhood, they are applicable to every succeeding period where the same power is developing.

The most marked characteristic of the entire period of early childhood is physical activity, manifesting itself largely in restlessness. The nervous force which later will be used in complex mental processes, now seeks expression through hands and feet and tireless body.

In early infancy activity is entirely purposeless and unwilled, merely the instinctive movement of every part of the body. Gradually, however, through the contact with different objects brought about by his restlessness, the baby learns to reach out for what he wants, and purpose in the activity begins to appear. Later, play affords an outlet for the constant flow of this pent-up power, and the child lives over again those activities of the busy life around which appeal to him.

From the previous discussion of activity, we know that the child is bringing about far-reaching results, all unconscious to himself, through this never ceasing restlessness of every waking moment. He is growing, through the kneading process of constant movement; he is developing freer use of his muscles; he is building new experiences into character, and he is forming habits of life. How then may this great force be nurtured so that greatest results shall follow?

The law of activity must first be understood. It has been very succinctly stated, "Activity must act, explode or cease to generate."

If it cease to generate entirely it means death, for every organ of the body is using it. If it lessen in amount, it means lowered vitality, and indicates illness or abnormal conditions in some way. The over-strained mother who says to a little one of this age, "I wish you could keep still for five minutes," does not realize what she is expressing. It has been demonstrated in scientific tests, that the perfectly normal child under six can keep absolutely still but few consecutive seconds, therefore the desire could only be fulfilled through some disturbed physical condition which would lessen the amount of life itself. Any diminution is everywhere felt, for the same activity which impels hands and feet, impels also the hungry senses, the eager curiosity and every part of a growing mental life. Fortunately for the child, God's finger is on the dynamo of his life, and as long as He wills the activity can not cease to generate.

There are but two alternatives left, an action or an explosion, for activity can no more be confined than steam in an engine. If the explosion has occurred, it has resulted from successful repression. The stopper, "Don't," has been inserted in the last opening through which the nervous force could expend itself, and after a moment of dangerous calm, the inevitable occurs, and the happiness and peace of the entire home is for the time destroyed. The result is just as sure as that of confining an expanding gas, while its disaster is wrought in the mental and moral as well as the physical realms. Fortunately again for the well-being of the child, it is difficult to secure the last outlet, so fertile is his busy brain.

But without the explosion, the results that come to a child from a policy of repression are very serious. Briefly stated, they are first, irritability and nervousness. The refinement of cruelty is dealt to a little child, compelled by superior force to act contrary to God's law for him and "Keep quiet." Activity which should normally be expended, when confined, reacts upon the cells of the body so that soon there are physical reasons beyond the child's control for his nervousness and crossness.

Second, Friction, in which defiance and stubbornness appear. The severest test which could be imposed upon adults would be a constant and apparently arbitrary thwarting of their desires. Is it to be wondered at that a little, unreasoning life which hears "don't" by the scores of times from morning till night, grows rebellious, vindictive and obstinate?

Third, Unhappiness and a sense of alienation. Sympathy between two persons is impossible when they are at cross purposes, and happiness which is God's gift to childhood can never be realized when souls are out of touch. Further, discouragement and consequent loss of incentive to effort must inevitably overwhelm a little life that never does anything right.

Fourth, weakened will and character. This is the most serious result of all. One of the great principles already stated makes it clear that development can come only through the activity of the individual himself. If the child is constantly withheld from doing by the word "don't," he can not reach the fullest development of character. Furthermore, character is not built negatively but positively. A building can never be erected by merely keeping out of it all unworthy material. There must be an actual putting together of brick and mortar, and the great truth is evident that whenever a place is filled by the good, the bad is in that very act kept out, whether in buildings or character. The motive back of many a "don't" is worthy, and often there may be no alternative but to instantly check an action, but for the effect on character building there is a more excellent way than repression. It lies in the expression suggested in the law of activity, but expression under direction.

Some parents realize the necessity of allowing the child's activity to be expended, but fail to see the other side of the matter, namely, that while activity means development, the sort of development that follows will depend on the character of the activity. It is important that a boy's energy be given an outlet, but it is more important whether it make of him a gentleman or a hoodlum. The guidance or neglect of the activity will determine which it is to be.

Too frequent emphasis can not be put upon the fact that every outgoing activity traces a little deeper some pathway that tends toward a habit. The mistake is often made of thinking that habits can be formed only by "taking thought." It is true that some of the finest habits of life are built into character with painstaking effort, but untidiness and selfishness and irreverence and all their kin reach fullest unfolding in the thoughtless outflow of activity, when no one is attending.

But activity, untrammeled, means more than wrong habits. It means lawlessness and undisciplined character. The child who has learned no higher authority for his acts than his own erratic whims, has laid good foundation for future disregard of the laws of man and God.

The converse of all that has been said concerning both repression and neglect of activity characterizes its wise direction. When the child, ignorant and unskilled, hears a voice saying, "This is the way, walk ye in it," his willing response means activity going out in right channels or the formation of right habits. It means a dual joy for him, the joy of activity itself and also the joy from the approval and sympathy of the parent or teacher. Under encouragement he puts forth greater effort, which means constant development of greater power. Yet more than all, it means that he is learning the greatest lesson of early life, obedience.