Teaching children about faith can sometimes be a meandering path, characterized by wrong turns, dead ends, reversals as well as small victories. You live for the small victories.
It wasn’t long ago, our oldest daughter Johanna would dig in her heels and proclaim her determination to stay at home on Sunday. Johanna complained to us about how church was boring. The result was usually a lot of yelling and tears, before we finally made it to church.
Things have gotten much better, and “better” seemed like a huge victory. Several weeks ago as part of Kids Church, Johanna drew a picture of God giving her a hug, with an excerpt from James 4:8. “Draw near to God and He will draw near to you.” It showed a picture of an adult, presumably God, giving a child a big hug.
We’ve also become aware of other less obvious expressions of faith. Apparently Johanna has been praying with one of her friends and has shared about God with her classmates at school. All of this took Papa and Mama a little by surprise, since Johanna prays with all the subtlety and speed of a freight train when at home.
Overall, these kinds of stories are reassuring and remind me how sometimes Johanna “gets” God so much better than me. Nevertheless, despite these moments, Johanna still occasionally complains about how church is boring. She will beg to stay home on Sunday and this can be a little discouraging.
As parents trying to share the love of God with your children, you ideally want to make it to church, without threatening your children. You try many different things. You joke with them. You talk in the kindest and gentlest of voices. You negotiate. You use guilt and finally you yell. . .
“Mama and I do many nice things for you kids, can you do this one thing?!!”
What makes this all the more mystifying and curious is how after all is said and done, Johanna mostly enjoys church. Johanna likes her kid’s church teachers and she has many friends among the children at church.
This past week, after a bit of a hiatus, Johanna again complained about church being boring. There was a moment of frustration and I wanted to skip past joking, kindness and negotiation and move straight away to using guilt. Then I started thinking. . .
Why does Johanna complain about Church being boring?
I had a kind of revelation. I reversed the question. . .
Have I ever found church to be boring?
Do I get equally blessed from every sermon, from every part of the worship service and from every praise song? Don’t get me wrong, I love church and I particularly love my church. When we started coming to the Boston Vineyard two years ago, I was totally burned out on religion, but through the messages and people there, something was stirred in me. I was reminded how much God loved me and genuinely cared for me.
Nevertheless, do I get equally blessed every week? Do I get blessed by every part of the sermon? Two weeks later, can I even tell you the main points of a given sermon? Also, while I generally love the worship music at church, do I love every song and every worship set?
Then I thought about church from the perspective of my passionate seven year old. When she’s bored at church, she probably thinks something is wrong with her.
Although, she enjoys most of church, there are times when she feels bored. She is a seven year old after all. In those moments, I imagine her wondering, “Why don’t I get it? What is wrong with me?”
Knowing my daughter as I do, I believe Johanna has been approaching church as a zero sum game, where every part of church has to be fun, exciting and interesting. If parts of her experience do not measure up, then the result is disappointment.
If I went to church, thinking I had to be blessed by every part of it, what kind of experience would it be?
While it would be great if life and church worked this way, I’m also aware of my fleeting attention span. I also know all too well the state of my own heart. In a typical fifty minute sermon, I might get one or two takeaways at most. If this is true for me, how much more for seven year old Johanna?
Then I had a revelation, “What if I told Johanna, how I’m sometimes bored at church?”
In the end, church is so much more than any one thing. Church is being part of a community. Church is being taught about what it means to follow and live for Jesus. Church teaches us how to see the world. Church reminds me about what my life can be with God. Church is about being mutually encouraged by other brothers and sisters in Christ. We enjoy seeing and reconnecting with our friends at church. We love the praise and worship music, which brings us into God’s presence. Church is all of these things more. At the same time Church is much more than the sum of its parts. If one part of the church experience doesn’t happen it can still be good.
As parents we often find it hard to be honest with our children. We don’t want to confess or admit our vulnerability or our doubts. When I present faith to my children, I’m prone to setting it up as this black and white proposition, where everything is good, easy and accessible.
Faith is never messy. Faith is never hard. Faith is never living with doubt. Perhaps, we oversell God? We make God out to be this person who always speaks, always rewards, and who always answers prayer according to the desires of our heart. There is no room for disappointment.
As a parent, I want to invite my children into experiments of faith, but when I stand at the precipice, I have doubts. What if I invite them to take steps of faith and it doesn’t work out? Can they handle the ambiguity?
Then I wonder, maybe the problem isn’t my kids, maybe the problem is me. If things don’t work out, what will I say to Johanna and Emma? Maybe I’m the one who can’t handle the ambiguity.
My life often seems full of ambiguity and shades of gray. I live in a tension of knowing God’s promises and seeing a world of the not yet, where many promises remain unrealized. Sometimes, there are no neat answers to my prayers. Faith is not always easy or easily understood. It can be frustrating. and troubling.
This past Sunday, while brushing Johanna’s hair, I asked the question on my mind.
“Johanna, do you really think church is boring?”
What followed was a short, but very good conversation. Johanna talked about the parts of church she enjoys. I told Johanna how it was not uncommon for me to be bored at church, but it was okay because I don’t go to church for just one thing. I go to church for many different reasons, and while I might not get blessed by everything, it’s still good.
I also reminded Johanna of her picture showing God giving her a big hug. When we draw near to God, He will draw near to us. This is a promise, and sometimes a promise means we need to look at the big picture, instead of focusing narrowly.
When I told Johanna how I’m occasionally bored at church, it was funny, because her eyes got really big, as if she couldn’t believe her ears.
It was a revelation for Johanna as well as me.
Later, when we went to church, Carla took Johanna to her classroom.
Out of the blue, as they walked down to Kids Church, Johanna shared with Carla, “Mama, I believe in God. I want to know more about Him. I’m going to try to listen really hard.”
I’m not sure what changed in my Johanna. Maybe this past Sunday she came to understood something important about the nature of faith.
The most remarkable and humbling thing about this whole episode is how Johanna’s confession of faith, wasn’t in response to our urgings or admonitions. It wasn’t about giving her more knowledge. We didn’t preach to Johanna or give her a list of reasons why she needed God or Church. We didn’t give her reasons not to be bored.
Far from it. . . Instead, Johanna’s little confession of faith was something expressed in response to her parents confessing their vulnerability and weakness. It was about being authentic and real. Yes, Johanna, even Mama and Papa sometimes get bored at church.
In those moments when faith falls short of our expectations, rather than pull away, we press in. We draw near to God, because He promises He will draw near to us.
As a family, we have a lot to learn about faith and following Jesus, but this felt like one of those small victories.
How have you addressed the ambiguity, or messy parts of faith, with your children?
