UPDATE: I recently learned that this piece won an award from the 2018 Associated Church Press "Best of Church Press" competition. It was awarded "Honorable Mention" (3rd place) in the category of "Professional Resource."
As a pastor, it is a rare opportunity and, I’m going to say,
delight, to be able to worship in the pews with my two young children (at this writing, aged 8
months and almost-2). Normally, the task of getting the kids to church falls
entirely to my husband, as I serve two churches on a Sunday morning and adding
in the time needed for getting toddlers in and out of carseats (who needs a gym
membership when you have kids in carseats?) makes for a very stressful morning.
Well, I had this opportunity not too long ago, while visiting
my parents on vacation. My pastor dad, now retired, was preaching on this
particular Sunday, filling in for the usual preacher, so we were excited to see
“Ba-pa” in action. As an added joy, my cousin and his family were in town,
which added one more almost-2-year-old, an 8-year-old, and a 10-year-old.
Though my cousin is a pastor’s kid as well, his children had never been to
church, but they were pleased with the opportunity.
Having gone to church with my kids before, I knew to bring
some quiet entertainment for the little ones, and as I passed some coloring books over to my
cousins, they received them with relief. I was actually very impressed with their
22-month-old, who was wiggly, but hardly made a sound, especially compared to
my own toddler, who felt very free to speak her mind in whatever way struck
her. Most people around us smiled and even chuckled, having been there
themselves (and at least I know the preacher was expecting this going in!). It
was exhausting spending an hour being a jungle gym, snack dispenser, teacher,
and wrangler, but hey, the Word was preached and the Sacraments administered,
and if I had to guess, the finicky sound system was more disruptive to the
sermon than the children in the front two rows.
Unfortunately, not everyone felt that way. As my cousins sat
there in a strange place, dressed in their nice clothes and eager to worship,
the woman behind them kept on shushing the children. At first, they didn’t
realize it was them being shushed. When they did, they didn’t know quite what
to do. I believe the woman eventually moved to a new seat, which is just what
she should have done if she was so perturbed, but I still found myself very
frustrated.
As often happens after a moment has passed, I turned over in
my head what I would have liked to have said to the “shusher” if I had been in
my cousin’s shoes. It was something like this: “Hello ma’am. I am very sorry if
my children are disrupting your ability to worship. They are just learning how
to do this. In fact, it is their first time in church - isn’t that exciting?
We’d like to help them figure out how to be in church. Would you please be
patient with us while we do that in the way we know works for our children?”
Of course, as my mom is fond of saying, I would have had
some other choice words “in my thought bubble,” including an observation that,
for a family in church for the first time, someone shushing my children would
not encourage me to come back. It is a lot of work to get children out the door
in clean, nice clothes, only to be shushed once you get there! And while,
I’ll repeat, the vast majority of people we encountered were thrilled to have
all these children there, including one who effusively told us what joy it
brought to her worship experience, I will say that when congregations are
wondering, “Where are all the young families?” they might also try to evaluate
how a young family feels worshiping in their congregation.
With this as my starting point, here are a few observations
I have, as a pastor who has, on occasion, worshipped at other churches with my
children.
Consolidate your worship materials. At this particular church,
there was an assembled worship booklet that had the unchanging parts of the
liturgy, an additional handout we received on the way in with the changing
parts of the service (announcements and readings), and a hymnal, from which we
sang three hymns plus three more hymns during communion. This is tricky to
manage as a single person, even one who knows how to do church. As a person
juggling two kids, it was nearly impossible, and I found myself participating
only in the parts I could do by heart. My poor cousins, unfamiliar with the
liturgy, could barely keep up.
If you see someone struggling to keep up with worship and
their kids, offer to help them. Perhaps sit by them and hold the hymnal or bulletin so
they can hold their kid. If you have a nursery, let them know that you do and
where it is, but don’t say it in a way that implies, “Your kids are obnoxious
and I want them out of here.” You could try something like, “Wow, you’ve got
your hands full! If you need, there’s a nursery just down the hall - I can show
you. If you’d rather keep them in worship, is there something I can do to
help?”
Tell them you’re glad they’re here. This is Welcome and Evangelism:
101, of course, but it is salve to a stressed mom or dad who wants to be there
but feels embarrassed for disrupting everyone’s worship experience. I’m sure
most parents wouldn’t object even to a little white lie, like that their kids
are very well-behaved.
Remember that kids aren’t born knowing how to worship or sit
still for an hour. Also, that you were a kid once. Even if you don’t say anything,
please refrain from glaring, eye-rolling, and shushing. If you are annoyed,
move seats, or practice praying for patience. If you are a pastor, don’t stop
everything to single out the noisy children - instead, ignore it, or think of a
clever way to include the noise in what you are saying (“See, little Joey knows
all about making a joyful noise! We could all learn something from Joey!”).
People will laugh, the tension will dissolve, and the child’s contribution to
worship will be acknowledged.
Because when it comes down to it, it is most certainly true
that children contribute to worship, at whatever age and ability. They bring
their voices, their joy, their wonder, their excitement. They remind us to hope
and to love. They teach us to pray and to have patience. Their raw emotions
remind us that although we’ve become adept at covering up, we, too, feel the
pain and brokenness of the world deeply, and this in turn reminds us why we
need Christ.
“Let the little children come to me,” Jesus said, and so let
them also come to our churches and be welcomed - not by shuffling them away to
the nursery, but by making it possible for them, and for their sometimes
frazzled parents, to engage in whatever way they are able in the corporate
worship of our God, who came to us Himself as a baby, undoubtedly crying during
worship.
