You know how I get on my high horse about theological ignorance, right? Well, consider this real-life dialogue from around the dinner table the other day:
Older Person: “The churches these days, they don’t teach kids anything. I bet the young people here can’t even tell you the Ten Commandments.”
Me: “I hear you. The research bears this out.” [Turning to Young Relative] ”Can you tell me the Ten Commandments?”
Teenage Churchgoing Person: “Uhh … ‘Do unto others as you would have them do unto you’?”
Me: “No, that’s the New Testament. But hang on, [Older Relative], do you know the Ten Commandments? I wonder if I do?”
Thus commenced a few minutes of embarrassed grasping as the grown-ups at the table — churchgoers, all — tried to list the Ten Commandments. Collectively we got only six of them — a performance that was so lousy it ought to shut me up about the march of Moralistic Therapeutic Deism. I’m a big whiner about that stuff, as you know, but as I learned to my great surprise, I’m part of the problem.
That was an important moment for me as a parent. It embarrassed me, and it ought to have embarrassed me. What kind of mature Christian doesn’t know the Ten Commandments? That is so basic. But sure enough, I failed the test, and I failed it badly.
It occurred to me afterward that many churches may be falling down terribly on teaching young people the basic doctrines and creeds of the faith, but that only means that religious parents — the primary educators of their children, after all — should do what we ought to have been doing all along.
We’re going to start doing a more formal catechism of the kids in our home. Maybe Your Mr. Know-It-All Working Boy will learn something himself.



Nate says:
“Proscriptions are absolute and exception-less and are therefore very important to right living. Positive duties, which are tremendously important to know, can never be given precise parameters.”
I’m not sure you can characterize the Ten Commandments as “absolute and exception-less proscriptions” though. The boundaries on many of them are fuzzy when you push on them. Non-pacifists don’t take an absolute view of the commandment against killing, for instance, and even when you read that commandment as only prohibiting “murder”, what that covers in situations like war or judicial proceedings is subject to debate. Likewise, people argue about the exact cases in which the “false witness” commandment prohibits misleading someone. (In some cases, for instance, the duty not to betray a confidence and the duty to tell the truth conflict.) And what about those graven images? There’s debate even between different branches of Christianity as to exactly what that means you shouldn’t do concerning them.
Well, at least the commandment against adultery is pretty clear-cut… or it was, until Jesus had to go complicate it in the Sermon on the Mount. What was He thinking?
The existence of tricky edge cases does not, of course, mean that the positive and negative commandments are not valuable and important to follow. Both are indispensable. And while it’s good to think carefully and prayerfully when edge cases do come up, there’s a subtle temptation to use hard-and-fast rules and boundaries not so much as a guideline for our own consciences, and for assisting others, but instead as an easy way to condemn and put ourselves above other people we think are Doing It Rong. It’s an insidious form of Pride that religious people can fall into if they’re not careful.