DISCLAIMER: This is one of my KidMin/Family Ministry posts I sometimes hijack this blog with because I want to and I can because I gave myself permission. You have been fairly warned.
It was 2:30 pm. I had
about 30 minutes to get a walk in before the kids got home from school. The sky was blue, the air was crisp, the sun
was shining and I joyfully headed out the door.
The neighborhood was quiet. You could
hear hammers in the distance working on the church that is renovating on the
next hill. Birds were chirping, cars
were still, and Kalas Village looked dormant like it was experiencing a lazy
afternoon nap.
As I returned from my walk at 3:00 pm all I could think was,
“Get ready Kalas. The busses are coming!”
Ten minutes later, it looked like a switch got turned
on. The quiet streets were suddenly
alive. Chirping birds were replaced by
shouting, laughing, chattering children running, jumping, and skipping down the
street. Doors of houses flew open, backpacks were deposited, snacks consumed,
homework done… well, maybe… and the kids were back out again. Within the next 30 minutes the playground at
the Community House swelled with moving bodies.
A game of softball, a game of 4 Square and a bunch of kids jumping rope
took over the asphalt slabs where one day hopefully tennis courts and a
basketball court will stand. Young
kiddos played closer to home on bikes, trikes, scooters, and strollers. The Village had indeed awakened. Life was evident.
The family minister in me could not help but wonder…
Is this what happened to the church when we removed the kids
from the midst of the congregation? When
we, with all good intention, moved them and their energy and their laughter and
their tears to more appropriate locations that better suited their age and
needs? Is it possible that we
unintentionally put the church to sleep?
Now don’t get me wrong.
I’m not saying that every church that has Sunday school is out of line. I happen to be a big believer in KidMin and
in youth ministry. What I am saying is that
maybe, just maybe, we’ve taken it a little too far. Because let’s be honest, don’t we love to see
children praying at the altar? Aren’t we
blessed when they share in communion? Or
we hear that enthusiastic albeit quite loud “Amen!” at the end of the pastor’s
prayer?
Kids are loud. They
are full of energy. They laugh at
inappropriate times. What they call a
whisper is a few decibels under what we call an explosion. They run when they should walk. They fidget when they should sit still. They ask questions and sing loudly (off key)
and cry for no reason at all.
“Then Jesus put a little child among them. Taking the child in His arms, he said to
them, “Anyone who welcomes a little child like this on my behalf welcomes Me,
and anyone who welcomes Me, welcomes not only Me, but also my Father who sent
me.”
It does beg the question, have we welcomed Christ and the
Father in this way into our churches, into our services and into our sacred spaces? I’m pretty sure kids in Jesus’ day acted a
lot like, well, kids. And yet, He tells
us that if we welcome these messy, loud, and often sticky kids on his behalf, or as other translations say, in His
name, it is just like welcoming Him and welcoming the Father.
It was lovely to walk in the quiet of the day. I enjoyed the moment. It was also wonderful to hear the sounds of
life echo through my home until dusk. I’m
willing to bet we need both in our lives to truly experience life. And I’m also willing to bet, we need both in
the church too.
“Then Jesus said, ‘Let the little children come to Me and do
not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.’”
