Over the course of my ministry, no matter what young parents thought to the contrary, I really did sympathize with them when they said, “Pastor, it’s such a struggle every time I come to church with my young kids. I just can’t do church right now!” Corralling kids in worship can be a challenge.
I realized that not everyone had the perfect two children that I had. I smiled proudly and peacefully each Sunday as I watched my two little angels nestled with their mother in the pew, hanging on every word I said and singing every hymn with gusto. At least, that’s how it seemed to me from my perspective in the pulpit. I’m not sure Martha had quite the same view.
Now comes a new turn of events. I’m retired. I am the pew sitter, and I have a grandson, a very wiggly, squiggly, animated, vocal, un-bashful grandson who comes to visit us from time to time ….. on Sunday ….. when it is church time! Lord knows we fortify ourselves before each worship time. We bring our bag of toys from home. Keeler –that’s my grandson’s first name—grabs the bag of animals the church provides as soon as he comes through the church doors. We give him his last minute instructions about how we act when we’re in God’s house. We position one grandparent on each side of him in the pew, if possible. And then the adventure begins!
This past Sunday, a moment of panic overtook me: Martha was the designated reader of the lessons. I was left one on one with the boy during that time. We had a whole pew to ourselves, so I wasn’t worried about him striking up a ruckus with anyone sharing our pew. I did cringe a bit when Martha began reading and Keeler let out a loud, “Hi Grandma!” The congregation giggled. I “ssshhhhh’d” him. I could still hold my grandparenting head high.
As she read on, I didn’t pay attention. I was paying attention to Keeler. He was on his knees, having the lion attack the camel. “How bad could it get?” I reassured myself. “He’s playing with his toys. I could do without the animal sounds, but people will understand.” When it came to the responsive reading of the psalm, I mumbled through only a line or two. My eye and mind were on the boy.
As Martha read through the closing lines of the second lesson, I was beginning to relax. Soon, she would be done and back here with me to help me in this Herculean task. She came to the last line, from Romans 7: Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Immeditaely, out came the loud answer to her question from Keeler’s mouth: I will!
Who’s listening now?!
I must admit, I have been astounded over the years by kids in worship. I always knew they were absorbing something from the stained glass windows, the songs, the people, the rituals, the turning of the pages in the hymnal, the smell of wine after communion, the splashing of water on a baby’s head in baptism, but it soon became apparent that they gathered in even more than that. They heard the word. They made comments about the stories in my sermons. They asked questions in the Children’s sermon about things I never thought they were thinking about, theological questions about who Jesus is and how he did the things he did. Keeler is right in line with what I have seen over the years. He’s a multi-tasker. He can play with his animals but listen to Grandma read at the same time. And he is ready to answer: I will! I will deliver you from this body of death!
So a message to myself and all who sit with the kids in the pews, and the congregations that surround them: take heart, those little people are listening better than you might guess they are. There is hope, and you may not be the worst kid overseer ever, even though you are thinking to yourself: “When Jesus said, ‘Let the children come’, he wasn’t talking about MY child at this stage of his or her development!”
And may all of us child watchers pray: “O God, give me the courage, patience and wisdom to allow my child to experience you in worship.” We may not be able to pay attention in worship as much as we would like, but you can bet that the kids are listening!
