A Lesson in Thinking

People say that two conversations you should avoid at all cost are politics and religion. That rule doesn’t apply in my home. In fact, those are the two most dominant conversations these days.
Jordan asked me who I was going to vote for Sunday after church. I told him. Then he told me who he would vote for if he could vote.

I smelled a teaching opportunity, so I asked him why he chose that candidate.

“Because he knows what he’s doing,” he said.

“Who told you that?” I asked.

“Nobody. He just does,” he said

“So what IS he doing?” I asked

Silence.

Then he said, “[The other candidate] isn’t a good leader.”

“Why not?” I questioned.

“He didn’t serve in the military and he doesn’t have any experience,” he said.

“Since when is that a requirement for leadership?” I asked, “Bill Clinton wasn’t in the military and neither was Ronald Reagan, yet they led the country.”

“And as for experience, Lincoln had no executive experience,” I said.

Jordan was silent.

“So why are you voting for ___?” he fired at me.

He turned my question back on me. That showed me, and him, that he was basing his judgment on hearsay, what he had taken in from other family members. So I told him my reasoning for choosing the candidate. It wasn’t what he thought.

Lesson learned? I can only hope.

One thing I try to do is to teach my boys HOW to think, but not WHAT to think. If he has a good reason for voting Democrat, then I’ll support it if he can support his decision with his own convictions. If he chooses to vote Republican, I expect the same thought process. And if he chooses to vote Independent for a man like Ron Paul, then I expect him to find something worth fighting for in his candidacy.

I never want them to blindly follow me or anyone else for that matter. Even in our Bible reading together, I force him to think and tell me what he sees, not what he’s been taught to see. I encourage him to ask questions about anything. That doesn’t mean that you don’t believe. Good questions often strengthen belief and deepen conviction.

Yes, I know. I poked holes into the argument of a sixth grader, but in four years when Jordan is 15, I’ll expect more – and he’ll give it to me.

Chris