Children’s Church

This is part one of a two-part post. Part two can be read here.

I visited a church last summer, and during the quiet time before the service I heard a few voices that seemed overly loud. Once the announcements began, there was one voice in particular that was babbling constantly. I figured it was a child and tried to concentrate past it, but found it distracting. I kept wondering why the parent was letting the kid make so much noise. Then during the announcements the priest actually answered one of the questions hollered out by this individual; it was then that I figured out that it wasn’t a child at all, but a developmentally disabled adult. And the leader obviously was used to interacting with the small group of these folks, who were sitting together in the service.

I tell this story to illustrate a point: we wouldn’t consider sending off developmentally disabled adults to a separate church service, would we? (Or maybe we would… maybe that’s why this was the first church in the hundreds I’ve visited where I really noticed such a group of people encountering true welcome.) We understand that they can worship God right alongside the rest of us, they just may do it a little differently, depending on their abilities and interests.

So I wonder, why do we get so nervous, embarrassed, annoyed by children just being children – being entirely age-appropriate – in our worship services? Why do we think it is necessary to provide alternate programming for them? Why does a child of 2 have to be put in a nursery to be babysat, when at home she might sit and listen to a story for more than half an hour… or an infant who is used to watching a mobile with rapt attention be excluded from the sounds-and-lights show that is weekly worship?

It’s true that children do not conform to adult standards: they are noisy, they are messy, they don’t place any priority on sleep, they much prefer playing to anything serious, and oh yeah, did I mention messy? (I am writing this at 5:30 a.m. and not five minutes ago I had poop in my hair. I would not joke about this.)

And kids can certainly be trained how to “behave” in church – heck, if we can train a dog to behave, why not a child? But I wonder… should we be forcing children to conform to the adult way of worshiping, or should we be looking to them instead for lessons on relating to God?

One of the things I’ve loved most about having kids is that it has helped me understand so much better how God must feel about me. The parent-child relationship is one of the most common biblical metaphors for the way God wants to engage with human beings. When you think about it, that’s pretty scandalous: a deity using familial terms of endearment towards His creation. When the Bible was written, of course, concepts such as “adoption” and “children” had more to do with property than being lovey-dovey; however, I cannot believe that the way people felt about their children can have changed that much in the intervening years. No matter how busy or primitive or Roman a person may be, there is something about that helpless tiny piece of you that will always melt your heart. Even when said tiny one is being a brat.

Which brings us back to the way kids act in church. For one thing, children need to be IN church to know what it’s about. If they’re squirreled away from birth they won’t have any clue what to do when they’re suddenly expected to get in there and participate when they’re older.

[The Sunday School curricula "Catechesis of the Good Shepherd” and “Godly Play” are both liturgy-focused and teach children what happens in the worship service, as well as the liturgical calendar, colors, and Bible stories. However, it is no substitute for actually experiencing these things week after week; it is best used as a supplement to help them understand what they have done in “big church.” In my experience, children who participate in these programs often understand the liturgy far better than their parents!]

From the beginning of my daughter’s life we had her in the regular worship service with us. She loved the music and colors, the movement and the sounds. She would nurse through the sermon, or sit on the floor in the back looking at provided books and toys. There was never a time when she wasn’t welcomed as a full, participating member of the body.

This particular church was extremely welcoming to children and babies especially. But since leaving there, I’ve often been told, “You know, we DO have a nursery!” when I’ve taken her or her brother into a worship service. I don’t think people mean to be rude, but they are being exclusive. In my opinion, nurseries are not there to service adult needs. They are there to give children a break when they need it.

Yes, kids can be loud and completely oblivious to what’s happening around them. But don’t you think God can work through that? One night I was preaching when my daughter, about 18 months old, decided to throw the mother of all tantrums after her dad removed her from the chapel. Everyone could hear her outside and I couldn’t concentrate at all. I finally looked at the congregation (many of whom were smirking) and said, “Excuse me for a moment.” I went out, got my daughter, and finished the sermon with her in my arms.

What was amazing was that I was preaching about how we need to trust God as our loving parent. I had actually written sentences like: “We should throw ourselves into God’s arms, because He wants so badly to hold us and comfort us.” And there I was, with a sniffling toddler in my arms, perfectly illustrating the point. I didn’t even have to speak; God and Maggie were doing all the preaching for me.

This is but one example of how God will bless our attempts to welcome and engage children in worship. It will not be an easy task, especially when we are used to excluding or disregarding them and their needs. But it is a worthwhile endeavor that, I believe, God strongly desires for our communities. In my next post, I will share some of the practical ways we can make this happen.

Next Friday, Anastasia returns with part two on this topic, sharing some practical examples of how worship for everyone (children included) might be curated.

Anastasia McAteer is a full-time mom and freelance writer/liturgical consultant. She holds a Master of Divinity with a concentration in Worship, Theology and the Arts from Fuller Theological Seminary, and has done doctoral work in Liturgical Studies at the Graduate Theological Union, Berkeley. Stasi has published a reader’s theater version of the Book of Revelation, and the essay “Exorcising the Spirit” in Jesus Girls: True Tales of Growing Up Female and Evangelical (Cascade Books, 2009). She also authored the popular blog Feminary while at Fuller. Stasi and her husband, John, co-curated the forthcoming Lent Collection for Clayfire. Her children, Maggie and Kieran, help her fulfill her priestly calling on a daily basis.