This past Sunday my bride and I decided to visit a church close by because our youngest daughter had expressed an interest due to the new, young pulpit guy they had just hired. We had visited there before and it was fine, but just not enough to compel us to be regular visitors. Both of us share the desire to see our kids/kids-in-law/grandkids connected in a meaningful way to a community of faith. So we decided to go with them and lend support.
The visit was fine. Not extraordinary. But good enough. We were greeted warmly, we knew some of the folks, and because we are longtime veterans of the church scene, we knew where to go for coffee, knew how to find the nursery, knew what to expect in the assembly. There was not much they couldn't come up with that we hadn't seen.
Our grandson was parked in the nursery and no sooner had he been handed across the counter than his lower lip was stuck out, and before we were out of earshot we could hear him complaining to all that he was not happy with this arrangement. The over/under on how long he would last was somewhere in the 10 minute range. The service started with the singing, then the prayers, then the sermon. About 3 minutes into the sermon the nursery attendant came looking for our daughter to come get Lincoln who was still screaming. So Carrie went out and got him, brought into the assembly with us, then the three adults spent the next 30 minutes trying to keep him occupied, happy, and quiet. We were moderately successful. When we got back in the car the frustration was evident in my daughter. She felt like she had spent an hour trying to calm a toddler in a roomful of people who she assumed were exasperated with her and her rambunctious kid. It broke my heart that church had frustrated her rather than restored her.
Here is the situation as I see it. We are asking a generation that is only tenuously connected to "church" to come at a specific time, with well-mannered kids, and sit quietly while we run through the rites of the Sunday morning assembly. These young parents are looking at this set up and are opting out. Why put your kid, your spouse, and yourself through this every Sunday? To be honest, I felt like all three of us had been wrestling alligators when this was over. Tired, stepped on, apologetic, and hungry are not the emotions that church should engender. So what is wrong with this picture? We tried to tell my daughter that we went through the same thing, that missing some or all of the assembly time was part of the deal until the kids were old enough to weather the separation. I could tell she wasn't sure if she could handle that.
Here is my take on what we should do. If we insist on the assembly being over an hour, we need to do away with the nursery and allow the little ones to come into the assembly and make as much noise as they want. This would have the dual effect of allowing us grey-heads to help corral the kids on our row, in a kind, grandparenty way. It would also have a much needed impact on all ego-centric preachers to get to the point, make it, and get the heck to the end of the sermon. Sermons should be capped at 15 minutes, if you can't do it in that time frame, go back and spend more time on being succinct, less time on hearing your own prattle. Keeping our babies in the assembly would also be an affirmation that we are "family" and not "church." Crying babies are the sound of a healthy community. If all you hear is the wheezing of us geezers, then the community is dead already.
Here's an idea. What if we all just gathered, sang whatever songs were on some one's heart. Prayed with and for each other. Let anyone who has a SHORT message stand up and speak the voice of God into our ears, then when the kids got too rowdy, we call it a day. I think I read this somewhere. We better do something or we are placing our communities of faith on a path of extinction. We need the young families to feel welcome, to feel at home, and to feel that they matter rather than feeling that they are a bother.
Godspeed out there to all the young moms and dads who are trying to do the right thing. We can make this work, don't give up on us just yet.
Don
2 comments:
I really understood your post today. After my husband retired we became foster parents to medically fragile infants/toddlers.
When you start your life at under 2lbs, testing postive for cocaine, alcohol, and anything else available, at 2 years of age you are still an infant and at 4 not a managble quiet little one. Of course throw in the fact that our little ones were of a different skin color than we and the congregation were, and we didn't last long at many places. Your suggestion at the end is good. All that you need to do is to acknowledge that God is in your life, you love him,you praise him for who he is, you thank him, and then ask him for everything under the sun. The rest of the things aren't so important, are they?
Mary from VA
Dear Mary,
Thanks for the response. My central point is that if we are going to keep our young families we will have to change from "organization" and all the trappings to "organism" and all the care that provides. I pray you guys can find a true community of faith, who will embrace you and your kids. God bless in your minitry
Don
Post a Comment