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Whose kids ARE these??


Every Sunday, on the drive to church, I ask my boys who will be their special grownup that day. The boys know they have a good list of grannies and grandpas to choose from—most of them actual grandparents—people who are happy to have an extra kid or two join them in the pew for the service. My 7-year old, I tell people, walks into a room and owns it. Completely comfortable around people, he has his eye out for the sucker who will listen to the stories of his broken arm or his school play, and maybe sneak him extra sweets at coffee hour. The 5-year old, though, is different. He’s more reserved, more sensitive. If he speaks to you at all, it’ll likely be in a soft or made-up voice. Liam, my older boy, has no trouble finding someone to sit with on Sundays. Graham usually chooses to sit by himself.

Before their dad, my spouse, was ordained and started working in his own church on Sundays, the boys had a parent in the pew. For the last nearly two years, though, they’ve been on their own—occasionally at his place, most often at mine because it has other kids and a Sunday school program. And I have mixed feelings about this arrangement. I’m grateful that both Ian and I are able to pursue our call to ordained ministry. I’m grateful for the two congregations that welcome us and pay us and allow us to minister with them. I am thankful for the meaning my work brings to my life. But I want my kids to have a parent on Sunday morning. I want to be the one sitting with them in the pew, explaining what’s happening up front. I want to be the one reading the children’s bulletin to them, pulling out the quarter for them to put in the offering basket, answering their questions, and occasionally reminding them to respect the worship space.

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I know my kids are comfortable at church. It’s pretty clear that they feel they own the space, the way they run through the halls after the service and help themselves to whatever is in the fridge. They also sometimes get into trouble with less understanding church members by raiding the aumbry (Episcopal word for a cupboard or receptacle for consecrated bread, wine, and oils) looking for the healing oil. They love to anoint each other—and anyone else who’s around. And there’s such a fine line between reverence and disrespect—with kids, isn’t there? Or between what we want for our own kids, and what a congregation expects of its children. During the family service, when my boys are standing with the other children around the altar, it’s a mixture of embarrassment (because of those who don’t understand why the priest doesn’t do something about it) and pride that I feel when one of mine starts lifting his arms in the air, along with me, holding an imaginary host and saying—loudly—the words of the Eucharistic prayer.

I sat, chastened, in my office a few weeks after Easter, taking in the disappointment and criticism of a parishioner who was upset that the solemn atmosphere of the Maundy Thursday service had been spoiled by my kids being there. (My husband had his own service that night, and I thought my guys had done remarkably well—of course, my standard for their behavior was how much they participated and enjoyed the service, not how still and solemn they’d been. I thought it was kind of great how they picked up the Taize chants and led the congregation up to the footwashing. But I get the man’s point. Kind of.)

When I was at CREDO, a wellness retreat for Episcopal clergy, I read the anonymous comments from my parishioners in a survey about my pastoral strengths and weaknesses. One simply wrote that I could improve my ministry by controlling my kids better during worship.

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I love these people, and I love my kids. I want to offer nourishing worship experiences for my congregation, and I want my kids to fall in love with liturgy. Sometimes it seems so hard to do both! But then I’ll catch one of the boys playing priest with his dolls at home. Or I’ll see a picture one of them has drawn of me doing my priest thing at the altar. Or I’ll listen as one of them chooses Bible stories for his read-aloud homework. Or I’ll find them borrowing my vestments and playing dress-up. More significant, perhaps, the boys will ask me if we can give change to the folks we see on the freeway exit on the way to school. Or they’ll ask me to tell them the story of the people bringing their friend to Jesus through the roof. Again. And again. They stand at the front door of the church most Sundays, beside whoever is scheduled to be the greeter, handing out bulletins and welcoming people to our church with big smiles and disarming enthusiasm…and I wonder, how could I ever “control” this?

Photographs by Jennifer Creswell


20 replies
  1. Kristin S. says:

    Thank you so much for your article. My husband and I are both clergy as well. My two boys generally come with me at this point and stay in the nursery. One of the toughest things we have had to contend with is what to do on a Sunday morning when one of the boys is sick. A couple of weeks ago my three year old broke his arm and really couldn’t go to the nursery, so I took him to church with me. He sat in the front row with me and while the rector celebrated the Eucharist I held him at the altar with me. I worried a bit about what folks would think, but the next week one of the older women in the congregation came up to me and congratulated me for being a mom first. She said that God understood and the church could wait. It gave me hope. I so want my boys to love church and find it to be a loving and comforting place to be rather than resent it for taking their parents away. It is a constant balancing act, but for all of the challenges I think totally worth it.

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  2. Jessica says:

    I loved this article and your pictures. I have heard the best comments and the worst of comments regarding my little ones in worship. (4 year old boy and 2 year old girl) The worst being when I was distracted with my son’s crying that I should just pretend the child isn’t mine. Yikes! I also receive the most appreciation from other moms with kids in worship. I have come to discover that allowing some “sacred playfulness” is a ministry in and of itself to other families. It takes off some pressure so that others can allow their kids to come and approach the sacred. My personal joy is to see my kids play with the things of worship – like taking a big piece of bread at communion or marking their foreheads with the ashes still in my office weeks after Ash Wednesday. What a joy it is to see them have such an intimate relationship with the liturgy and elements of worship!
    Thanks for sharing your experience!

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  3. Heather says:

    I so identified, and teared up as I read this.
    My daughter is a VERY exuberant 10, and I have been struggling with this a lot (her dad’s a judicatory official who travels from church to church most Sundays). Pride when I process in to see her on her own in the pew, singing the opening hymn, but sorrow that she’s on her own.
    I loved the Sunday when she was 18 months old I ended up holding her during the eucharistic prayer; and could have throttled her a year later when she sat hidden under the altar poking my legs as I tried to preside. Parishioners there were very understanding, but she just would not sit still with anyone who wasn’t me (and, let’s face it, probably not if it was me, either!).
    In my current parish, bigger and with more formal worship traditions, and because she is older, there are higher expectations for her to sit still and behave. But they did love her liturgical dance that accompanied the reading of John 1 at the Advent Carol service.
    Feels like a constant 2 steps forward, one step back, but I think we’re (mostly) heading in the right direction.

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  4. Lauren says:

    This article really resonated with me. My active two-year-old ends up in the nursery more often than not while my husband and I lead worship at two different congregations. I hate that we can’t be together for worship, and that she can’t learn and grow through the liturgy as often as I’d like. Thanks for giving voice to this struggle–it helps to know I’m not alone!

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  5. Lisa says:

    Honestly, other than being really moved by what you wrote . . . what came to mind for me is the question of why loving adults in the congregation can’t proactively acknowledge that, in that hour, you can’t be parent and priest both and offer appropriate and affirming guardianship to your kids during worship.

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  6. suzanne says:

    what a fantastic article, jen. i’m in a different space: sitting next to my boy during services and not wanting to “control” him completely, but allow him the space to experience God. all the while, the tug that i’m not leading worship weekly exists. yet i find spaces to worship and to lead worship in the daily rhythm of life and in retreats, in groups…
    all that to say, i hear you. i love that you’ve shared this image of how your boys are church in the world. i picture church as the place where young and old meet and learn and grow together. i hope that it’s so. i hope that folks can see the life, energy, love, and wonder of the youngest in our midst.

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  7. Beth says:

    Lovely article…I think you captured the conflict between parenting and pastoring with kids in the pew well! I am in much the same situation and have very rarely been able to sit with my kids. I am sorry that someone felt like they had to chastise you for bringing your children to church, and I have been there. I just remind myself that my children are FOREVER and no matter how much you love a parish, they are never as important as your children feeling valued! Sounds like they are growing up in a wonderful environment and learning to love the church! Well done.

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  8. Alana says:

    Great article Jennifer. It must be such a challenge to find that balance, and to remember that you can never please everyone. That frustrated parishioner will likely forget his annoyance eventually, but your kids would never forget feeling that the joy of attending church has been taken away by limiting their confidence in how they worship. And as much as you are their priest, you are also their mom and so good at taking their emotional health into consideration.
    I recently attended an evening Taize service, not realizing that was what it would be (called “Soulful Sundown Sundays,” and had the girls with me. The ministers welcomed them joyfully, but I could see that it frustrated one of the other parishioners so I haven’t tried again. I think I should, and just bring along coloring tools and preparations for those meditative points… and prepare them as best I can.
    On another note, from someone who has seen the boys in action at church, (admittedly a fellow mom), they are very well-behaved, especially considering there’s no parent in the pew! Who doesn’t need a little extra charm first thing Sunday morning? 😉

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  9. Elsa says:

    Jennifer, I love that your church members have added their voice to their comments. Even more, as a single gal with no children of her own, I appreciate the encouragement to make the children heard. Sometimes I wonder if I enjoy the interruption of a young cry or the child clapping after an anthem or a child racing down the aisle during communion (it happens) because I don’t have children at home. I like the reminder that Jesus calls these little ones to be all that they are in worship and praise. I’m glad I’m not alone.

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  10. Lynda says:

    we are truely blessed to have Rev.Jennifer and her family with us – we got ‘4 for 1’. It seems the older we get the less tolerant we can become of children and of the changes in the church as we all move forward on our journey. We can forget that we were children once too, and that when we were, the world was a different place. Church never felt welcoming to me, the priest never a ‘real’ person. What a joy for the children in our parish to know Rev. Jennifer as a ‘real’ person – one who embraces them all and rejoices in them and teaches us all to do the same.

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  11. Lisa and Randy says:

    What an amazing mom you are. The boys are lucky to have you and the congregation is really lucky. They get 3 for the price of 1.

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  12. Karen Sapio says:

    My 13 year old has just figured out that he can walk home on his own after church rather than waiting around endlessly while I work the coffee hour crowd and drop in on after-church meetings. We only live half a mile away. ONe of these Sudays it is going to occur to him to do this DURING church. . . I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.

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  13. Katy says:

    This made me teary, thank you for writing it. I so want my little guy (and any future little ones) to explore faith in all the ways that he explores the world around him. And it’s a reminder that church is a big messy place full of people with conflicting needs: those who need silence, those who need joyful noise, and those who try to mediate between the two.

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  14. Susan Olson says:

    Selam is a part-time PK, since I don’t supply every week. Right now, they will let her go into the nursery when I’m preaching, even though she’s a little old for it. But pretty soon she’ll be a lot old for it, and I will have to have a game plan. At one of our adventures, she left her “special person” and just walked up and sat in my lap on the the chancel. I did the last third of the service with her on my hip.

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  15. Alex says:

    I, too, love this piece. My husband just finished up a two-year interim. I had the kids at church by myself most Sundays and those years of trying to parent my three from the chancel have been trying. We also have “Church Grandma and Grandpa” who sit with them during worship. Thanks for the reminder that we want to raise these PKs in such a way that they will feel called to stay in the church!

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  16. Sarah K. says:

    Oh, I love this so much! My hubby and I will be in different parishes, too, and I’ve always wondered how it works when they are older than nursery age. I love the descriptions of how your boys have made the church theirs. (And have a few choice thoughts for the parishioners who want you to control them.)

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  17. Beth B. says:

    Thank you, thank you, thank you. As a soon-to-be single pastor mom, one of the things I’m most terrified about is Sunday mornings. I love the idea of having a “special grownup” to sit with…and I hope I am already helping to create a worship environment where children are welcome, fidgeting and too-loud whispering and crying and off-the-wall questions and all. Because church is for them, too.

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  18. Bromleigh says:

    Thanks, Jennifer, for this. This is what I want for my kids… and for myself and for our churches. And you’re much more of a grown-up than I am, listening to the complaining parishioner. I hope, though, that you spoke to him about the importance of the Church forming children for worship, of welcoming all.

    Reply

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