Necessary Roughness

As the daughters were getting ready for their bath this evening, the older one said a phrase we classify as bad language. She was specifically told by Mom never to say that phrase again, and that she would get her mouth washed out with soap.

During bath time, however, the phrase came out again. I voiced my displeasure, but Justice came in, bar of soap in hand, ready to wash all the yuckiness out. The girl broke into a complete sob and said she was sorry, and Mom stayed her hand.

This didn’t console the child. She had recognized how fast that phrase came out of her mouth, and she was terrified that she would say it again reflexively and receive the punishment. For that, I was actually proud of her. Got a brush with the adult world, she did.

There are a couple of observations to be made at this point. First, I note that as parents we tolerate disobedience to different degrees depending on the behavior, frequency, and ease that the behavior can become a hard habit to break.

Secondly, we adults do not have the same fear of consequence that our child displayed. Some adults never hear that the wages of sin, even one sin, is death. Others are never convicted of their conscience and instead get a weekly dose of doable law, happy tips to help them through the week. Others, especially Lutherans, hear what we think is Law and Gospel week in and week out to the point where we are jaded with it and know nothing is going to happen to us because our deeds do not save us.

If you aren’t presented with the fact that your actions and your sin have real consequences, not only in this world but the next, and you aren’t the least bit concerned about temporal and eternal punishment, pray for your pastor, because his preaching of the Law hasn’t gotten to you.

That terrified conscience of my daughter’s is a holy thing. Not because Mom and Dad can leverage it as control, but because she knows her speech is a hard thing to tame. She knew she had done wrong. She fears she will mess up again.

I told her that she needed to slow down when she wanted to speak and choose whether or not what she wanted to say was going to be bad. I said that it was clear that she was sorry, and we forgave her. We will not wash her mouth out for that particular incident. The forgiveness was real.

Kids, I told her, aren’t the only ones who mess up and don’t mean to. “We daily sin much” and are in need of forgiveness ourselves. When these things happen, we pray, and we practice. We pray God to forgive us, and we practice doing things the right way. The absolution that we receive from the pastor in church is as real as our forgiving of our daughter.

As we went to bed, we prayed Luther’s evening prayer, slowing down over the words, “and I pray you (my heavenly Father) to forgive me all my sins, where I have done wrong, and graciously keep me this night.” And our Father has, this evening, because the word was spoken and we believe, because of the cross, because of the resurrection, because of the promise.

Mom asked later if we had scarred her for life. I told her I thought she would be OK. She was forgiven. She will try not to mess up again, and I will mourn the day her conscience becomes jaded and chooses to disobey despite the consequences. Thankfully that is another day.