The Rod:  It Helped to Shape My Character
When I was but a toddler
A stubborn little soul
I came to know an instrument
That brought me under control

At first it was a terrible fiend
Of which I truly learned to dread
A monster that inflicted pain over my body
Except my fragile head

In the hands of both my parents
It prodded me like a beast
And kept me on the straight and narrow
To which I strayed never the least

And now that I look back in retrospect
What a journey I have trod
I know I would not have made it
Without the help of the rod
Author:  Michael Goings

Recently, I witnessed a couple of young boys, who were around eleven years old, being very disrespectful and defiant in both their attitude and behavior.  One of the boy’s mother asked me to talk with and to counsel her son.  Due to the fact that she is a member of our church, I, of course, obliged her.  Both of these incidents (observing and helping to deal with juvenile defiance and misbehavior) became the impetus for this article.

I was reared in a home that consisted of ten children, along with my parents, Mr. Jim and Mrs. Marie Goings.  There were eight boys and two girls who made up our sibling clan.  In the boys group, I was perhaps the most headstrong, mischievous, and defiant one whose will needed to be bent toward my parents’ rules and regulations.  All of us, Goings Brothers, were by nature strong-willed and just a tad bit rambunctious.  We all required a firm hand to keep us in line.  Both of my parents were strong believers in corporal punishment or what we commonly referred to as beatings.  My mother was very skilled in the usage of switches.  She was the kind who would make you suffer through promising to get you later on.  Due to the fact that you never knew when later on would be, you would have to wait and sweat it out in apprehension of when she was going to lower the boom.  I remember one particular time when she had promised to whip me, but did not do it while daylight was still in effect.  When I went to bed and was finally able to fall asleep, surely I thought she had forgotten her promise to whip me.  In my relieved mind, I thought that I had escaped the lashes and stings of the switches.  All of a sudden, without a word, I felt something striking and stinging my bare back and legs.  (Back in those days, when I was growing up, we slept without anything on our bare backs during the summer time.)  At first, it seemed as though I was having a nightmare or a witch was riding my back and lashing me with a whip.  However, when I heard my mama shout, “You thought I had forgotten, didn’t you?”, I knew that what I was experiencing was not a nightmare and that the witch who I thought was riding my back was really my mama who was stroking my butt because I had been defiant and sassy.  My chickens had come home to roost!
Now, when it came to beatings, my father was in a league by himself when compared to my mother.  He was an expert at passing out corporal punishment.  Mr. Nathaniel “Jim” Goings was a strict disciplinarian whose law concerning both his home and his job was, “My way or the highway.”  There was no bending or breaking the rules that he had laid down for us.  As a matter of fact with him, when it came to obeying your elders and those in authority at school, church, or in the community, we were guilty until proven innocent.  It was not like it is today when far too many parents (especially mothers) are encouraging defiance in their children by standing on their side against principals, teachers, and others who are only trying to help them with their children.  Back in those days, when the principle “it takes a village to raise a child” was truly practiced and in effect, we often would get another beating at home if we had gotten a whipping at school.  My father did not take any stuff out of us – no sassing, no pouting, and no talking back or temper tantrums.  There were many times when I would have gotten in trouble or acted out like some others were doing.  Although I wanted to do it, I dared not do so.  I was not afraid of the act of misbehaving or being a juvenile delinquent, but I was terribly afraid of getting caught and having to face the scourge and wrath of Big Jim. It was that which made me think before I acted or involved myself in any illegal and defiant misdeeds.  My daddy’s firm looks and the belt that he wore around his waist was a deterrent that kept the beast in me at bay.  The beatings that he gave us when he had to administer corporal punishment were very painful and effective.  I can truly say that had it not been for the whippings that both my parents laid on me because of my defiance and naughtiness; there is no telling where I would be today.  They did not abuse us as some professionals and organizations would call it today who themselves are a part of the problem and not the solution in that they often inadvertently foster defiance in children.  Before my father passed, I had the joy of being his pastor and doing for him for a little season what he did for me during my upbringing.  I nurtured him spiritually as he had nurtured me naturally.  It was indeed one of the great highlights of my life.  I will never forget seeing him smile as I taught a lesson on what the Bible has to say about corporal punishment.  In my teaching, I paused to give him thanks for correcting and whipping me when I needed it.  To him, I said, “Sir, it helped to shape my character and to make a man out of me.”
The following passages are what I taught from then and what I will conclude with now:

“Chasten thy son while there is hope, and let not thy soul spare for his crying.” (Proverbs 19:18)
“Foolishness is bound in the heart of a child; but the rod of correction shall drive it far from him.” (Proverbs 22:15)
“Withhold not correction from the child: for if thou beatest him with the rod, he shall not die.  Thou shalt beat him with the rod, and shalt deliver his soul from hell.” (Proverbs 23:13-14)