Dear Friends,
If you’ve spent much time around Godly Play folks, you’ve likely encountered our constant use of the Gospel verses about Jesus and children. We use them frequently, print them out, keep them in little boxes. There aren’t a great number of them, and many of these verses are from the same stories repeated by different writers, but they are radically consistent in how they portray the importance of children. We are to become like children and we are to welcome children.
In some of the most striking verses, Jesus welcomes children even when the disciples try to send them away because they see them as a distraction or a hindrance to the work. Surely, they seem to think, the Good News is not for children. The Parables, which even they don’t understand, could not possibly resonate in the hearts and minds of the youngest among them.
We can read these verses. We can know they’re true. And yet, how many of our churches operate at a hush, or with resentment towards children? I’m sure we’ve all walked into those places, have maybe made home in places that feel like that (– and then someone in some meeting will inevitably ask where the young families are).
In this week’s Gospel, we receive one of those brief glimpses of Jesus’s heart for children, this time in the specific setting of hospitality. Amidst of a litany of good and righteous welcomes, Jesus reminds us that “whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple-- truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward” (Matthew 10:42).
Coffee Hour Testimony
It’s not uncommon that during coffee hour, as I help a child pour a drink or work on an art project, or simply as we sit and talk, that someone will ask me if some of those children are mine.
Now, to be fair, while it’s been going on for years, I’m about the right age for this to be the case (my mom had a ten year old and was pregnant with her second child at my age), but ultimately this question is not about resemblance or even general probability, but about relationship. My work puts me in relationship with children, but the reality is that I have had these relationships before and beyond being a children’s ministry professional. And sometimes I just want to declare, “You can have this, too!” Being in relationship with children is a benefit not just to those immediately involved, but in our churches it’s also a metric that can be predictive of long-term faith.
I’m not going to pretend that being in these relationships is equally easy for everyone. I don’t have an easy way with older teens or even with many of my peers. And children, in particular, are drawn to certain people and I am fortunate to be one of them. Still, I think as adults we feel compelled to make an effort with those who are older. Despite Jesus’s words, too many adults consign welcoming children to the children’s ministry team, the other parents, those with some obligatory proximity. How can we do better? I think summers offer us an interesting opportunity for experimentation.
The Blessing of the Summer Slump
Summer is a weird time in the life of the Church. Most of us change our schedules in some manner, reducing services, changing venues and times. Growing up, I spent my summer worshipping on my church’s front lawn, then hiding from coffee hour on the one Sunday a year that my mother and grandmother would host – we went to the early service year round, but fellowship happened between the early and later services in the summer as opposed to only after the later service during the program year. Our leaders go one vacation and a variety of “supply” pastors fill in. And, of course, the rest of us are plunged into the strangeness of our own summer schedules, whether that’s trying to work with the kids off school or traveling frequently or just listening to tiny voices complain that they’re bored.
All of this means that church attendance generally falls off a cliff in the summer months – and at the same time, often includes at least as many, sometimes more, visiting worshippers than the rest of the year. Taken together, this can be a serious advantage. So how do we make the summer slump a valuable space of exploration and hospitality in our parishes?
Here’s what I’m doing:
Intergenerational Offerings: My first paid church work was supporting intergenerational summer programming at Trinity Wall Street, and summer is a great time for trying out new program formats with less stress. This summer, I’m offering a handful of “Lemonade Hour” art & prayer activity sessions for my congregation. Adults are still skeptical, but unlike what happens in our classrooms, these programs are visible. They invite observation and questions. Adults aren’t always brave enough to sit down and try something new, but sometimes they can’t resist their curiosity and want to know more.
Invitations To Serve: One reason many smaller churches reduce the number of services they offer in the summer is simply because, with people traveling, it’s hard to bring in enough people, particularly in all those volunteer roles as lectors and ushers and acolytes, to keep multiple services running smoothly. But, with fewer people in church and typically a reduced degree of formality, it’s also the perfect time to prepare children for new leadership roles.
I love when I have a chance to sit with one of my church school families in the pews and listening to which children read clearly from the bulletin or pointing out the different roles people fill. I gauge abilities and interests and then, in partnership with ministry leaders, I extend invitations. Summer is the perfect time to invite an elementary school child to read a lesson or present the offering. I always say that it’s very hard (if not impossible) to break church, but to assuage the anxiety of those who think you can, summer can be a great time to let young people try their hand at these ministries. Plus, with fewer people in attendance, it can be lower stakes for children who may feel nervous trying something new in front of a big group of people.Look Beyond Your Walls: Vacations and lower attendance are unavoidable pieces of the summer, and it can be hard to keep our communal lives at the forefront of our minds. But what happens when we encourage connection, even across distance? As we entered the summer season, we blessed these popsicle stick People of God and encouraged people to take them out into the world and send us pictures. (Yes, it’s a take on flat Jesus, but I was also absolutely thinking about how my hometown newspaper would publish vacation pictures of people holding the news in another city/country.) Even when we aren’t together, these little wooden people are a reminder of our belonging to something greater and our belovedness by God.
We’re hardly overextending ourselves with these offerings, but each is a placeholder for some kind of welcome. So I ask, how are you extending God’s welcome in this strange season?
Odds & Ends
Personally, having grown up in NYC, it barely feels like summer yet to me. School just wrapped up there. But if you’re elsewhere in the world, or at least in the U.S., maybe summer vacation is well underway. Whatever the situation, I offer you:
Some VBS trauma. (Ask me about the Pandemania Curriculum Drama of ~@2006)
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Enable 3rd party cookies or use another browserGood work from my friend and colleague Sarah Bentley Allred, over at Vibrant Faith. Go check out Practical Tools for Raising Faithful Kids.
Pride month is very nearly over, but Art of Marza has some great new stickers glorifying God in pride colors.
There’s still time to come hang out at the Wild Goose in mid-July! We’re doing a lot to expand the “Gosling Track” aka the children’s and family programming available. There will also be an added handful of conversations and opportunities for adults to learn about children’s spirituality and formation. The Godly Players who come to the Goose are a dream team and you definitely want to be with us!
Wherever summer takes you, may you be met with holy hospitality. And may those who cross our thresholds be greeted with the same.
Peace,
Bird