Redemptive Obstacles

This past Sunday afternoon I was - along with millions of others I am sure - watching the NFL play-offs. In particular, I was watching the Bears/ Packers game - the result of which I liked quite a bit! Go Packers! How can anyone not like Aaron Rogers?!? I digress.

While I was watching, my daughter came in the room. Now, she's not a football fan at all. In fact, as she came and snuggled up next to me under a blanket her only comment was, "Are you still watching football?" Far from feeling the need to justify my football watching, my keen paternal sense was that what she was really saying was, "When are you going to be done with the TV!?!?!" I digress yet again.

After watching a down or two with me she said, "Dad, this is violent!" I agreed. Then she said something that caught me up a bit, "Dad, I don't think I will EVER play any sports." Now she had my attention. 

"Why not?" I asked.

"They are too hard," she said. "I just don't see why people would want to put themselves through that."

Now, two things have come to the fore for me as I thought about that comment. (In the moment I had to let it go cuz, well, I was pre-occupied with watching the game. Poor parenting, sure - I'll give you that.

As I thought about it, two things struck me. First, I would be really sad if my kids didn't play some sort of sports. For me, as I grew up, whether it was baseball, basketball, football, hockey - it didn't really matters. Some of the best things I ever learned I learned from playing on a team. In addition, some of my best friends were friends I made playing on teams. For all of these sorts of reasons, sports of some kind seems almost indispensable for kids.

But, the thing that struck me most was her comment about how hard it looked to her to play a sport. All of that got me thinking about obstacles and how good some of them can be for us. Allow me to explain.

In a podcast I listened to the other day Malcom Gladwell (writer extraordinaire) talked about a book he wrote entitled, "Outliers." It's a great read. But, as he commented on the book he said that the one regret he had about the book is that he didn't spend a lot of time talking/ writing about the power and usefulness of obstacles. His example was about class sizes. He wondered aloud if all the thinking about small class size was really flawed. In particular, he wondered if there isn't a loss to kids if they are always in small classes with individualized attention. What if, in this sort of context they never learn to initiate things themselves, problem solve with others in a group context, etc.? In this setting, the large class size is seen as an obstacle to many - and Gladwell wondered if the removal of this obstacle might result in more problems than it's presence. 

Now, pedagogical arguments aside, the point seemed worth pondering. What I realized is that a lot of my parenting and pastoring revolves around the notion that if I remove enough obstacles my kids will flourish and people will grow in their faith.

What if this isn't the case? 

What if removing the obstacles and making things as easy and accessible as possible is really a hindrance for my kids - even if it feels right in the moment?  is the same true for people searching for faith?

Even more creatively - what would it look like to engineer obstacles for our kids to teach them perseverance. WWould the same apply to faith?

Or, are the cynics right - is it the case that the world and faith matters are so rife with obstacles that no one will ever suffer from a lack of them so make things as easy as we can for now?

Are there redemptive obstacles? The answer clearly seems yes. However, in what ways should this shape parenting? leadership? faith? life?