What Does A Pastor Do? (Preschooler Edition)

Every Sunday, I stand in front of my congregation and preach the Gospel. I have overcome any fear of speaking in public that I may have once had. I have spoken to very large groups and very small groups. I have spoken to people I know and respect, and I have spoken to absolute strangers. Very little unnerves me. But this morning, I got a request that made me shake in my boots.

On the way to school daughter asked me to tell her preschool class about my job. <shiver>

Doesn't seem like a big deal to you? Here are the factors to think about.

The attention span and comprehension of 5 year olds. A mix of backgrounds - some may be religious, but statistically most would not be. The concept of "God" may be a meaningless word to them. A desire to be respectful of teachers and parents who may come from different faith backgrounds - I am a guest, after all. And then, the thought that a child may feel left out or excluded or different by their families religious practices (or lack thereof) - and the last thing you want to do is make a 5 year old feel bad; it sure isn't their fault!

So in I went, and here is what I said.

Because I was wearing clericals (a shock, I know) I talked some about uniforms, and how this is my uniform so that people who need a pastor can find one. Then I moved on to what I do.

I explained the job of a pastor as consisting of three primary things.

1. As a a pastor, I get to tell people about and teach about what I believe is the most important and exciting thing in the world. Every day, I get to share the things that make me happier than anything else in the world. What makes you happy?
2. As a pastor, I get to spend time with people when life is hard and help them to feel better. So when people are sad, or hurt, or sick, or upset they ask me to come be with them and help them feel better. Has anyone ever helped you to feel better? 
3. As a pastor, I get to spend time with people during the happiest times of their lives and help them to celebrate. So, when I baby is born, and at weddings, and at birthdays - all of the best and happiest times of life - pastors get to help people to celebrate. What have been some of the times you have had fun celebrating?

Preaching. Comforting. Celebrating.

So, ok, there is more to pastoring than that. But it's not a bad summary for a preschool audience. In fact, it's not a bad summary of the Christian life of discipleship. 

Proclaim - Comfort - Celebrate. Repeat as needed. 

Ministry Where the Wild Things Are

Today, Maurice Sendak, author and illustrator of the classic Where the Wild Things Are, died. I didn't call it a "children's classic," because Sendak never would have. He was very clear: he didn't write children's books. He wrote books. Children happened to like them. In fact - Sendak didn't even believe in "children" as such.

I said anything I wanted because I don't believe in children. I don't believe in childhood. I don't believe that there's a demarcation. 'Oh you mustn't tell them that. You mustn't tell them that.' You tell them anything you want. Just tell them if it's true. If it's true you tell them. ~Maurice Sendak

We divide our ministries in church. This is an adult Bible study, that is a children's curriculum. This is a Bible, that is a children's Bible. We are very clear. And in our clear divisions, we speak down to our young people. We hide the hard things of life from them. We hold back information about life, about faith, and about God.

[I am proud of what I got from my parents], a kind of fierce honesty, to not let the kid down, to not let the kid get punished, to not suffer the child to be dealt with in a boring, simpering, crushing-of-the-spirit kind of way. ~Maurice Sendak

Here is what we need: We need a ministry that takes place where the wild things are. As I have watched interviews with Maurice Sendak - this man whose stories helped to shape my childhood - I have been struck with his caustic honesty. He did not hold back, he did not pull any punches, he simply spoke the truth. And not just in his interviews; also in his books, which children happened to like.

Often in our clearly defined and divided children's and youth ministries we avoid the "hard topics." We talk about happiness and joy and celebration. But what about sadness, what about loneliness, what about death and dying and illness? Too often, they are avoided. We tell ourselves that we have to protect our children. We have to keep them safe. And somehow, we have gotten into our heads that talking about such things will somehow break them - that they can't handle it.

I think it is unnatural to think that there is such a thing as a blue-sky, white-clouded happy childhood for anybody. Childhood is a very, very tricky business of surviving it. 

We need a ministry that talks about the reality of life with all of God's children - some of whom are larger and some of whom are smaller. We need to stop speaking down to our young people, stop trying to protect them from the hard things of life. We simply need a ministry, which children happen to like.

We need a ministry that takes place where the wild things are.

Seen & Not Heard

Here's my frustration: I want to encourage the church. I want to point out all of the things that are going great, all the things that we are doing right. I want to praise the way we are bringing Christ into the world. But.

But sometimes, the church is just ridiculous. And to be clear, I am not talking about the congregation where I serve, although we have our moments, too. I am talking about the church - all of us - the body of Christ. 

In almost every church I that I have had any sort of contact with, I have heard some variation on the same concern: "There aren't enough children. We need more kids in Sunday School. The Youth Group is too small." Sound familiar? Church councils sit around, thinking of what the pastor needs to do to get kids in church. The older members complain about parents who don't bring their kids to church. We talk about all sorts of things ... none of which is actually the problem.

Want to know the problem? Here it is, in a nutshell. A few weeks ago, I walked into a church to preach and saw this sign:

I don't post this to shame this one congregation. The truth is that many congregations, without being as explicit about it, still have this attitude lurking under the surface. The people who complain about the kids who talk during the sermon. The stares we give to the parents of fidgety children. We want kids in the church, but "Children should be seen and not heard" ... and we aren't too sure that they should be seen.

Come on, church! We can do better!

We wonder why our churches are graying. We wonder why our Sunday School rooms sit empty. We wonder what happened to all the families with young children. It's really simple: they got the message. They heard us loud and clear.

We need worship services where children are free to be ... well, children. That means sometimes they will be loud, sometimes they will need to move around and play and fidget. Because that is what children do.

We need churches where parents feel comfortable coming with their little ones; not ashamed or nervous. 

If we are going to have churches that have children in them, then those children and their parents should be made to feel welcome. Totally and completely welcome, just as they are. 

Let's be clear: if we don't change this, there will not be a church in a generation. 

God is Dead!

Like PKs everywhere, my daughter spends a significant amount of time in the church building: in the sanctuary, in the classrooms and meeting rooms, and of course, in Daddy's office. I remember those days, being in Dad's office at the church. I knew where everything was - what pictures he had on the wall, what pieces of artwork he had around. I knew that office like it was just another room in my home. Which is why I am surprised when,  from time to time, my daughter notices something in my office for the first time - as she did Tuesday evening while I was getting prepared for our service of prayer and conversation.

I was sitting at my desk, hastily reading a few last minute things to help me get my thoughts together for the service. My three year old was playing with the stash of toys that stay in my office for just such an occasion. And then, from behind me I heard her declare, "God is dead."

This is not exactly what your pastor wants to hear his child proclaim, no matter what her age. But I've been to this rodeo before, and I knew that the worst thing I could do was over-react. Maybe I misheard her. Maybe she was talking about something else. Maybe her words got jumbled, as often happens for three year olds. So I asked, "What was that?"  She walked over to me, "Is God dead, Daddy?"

Ok, less of a proclamation, more of a question. "What do you mean?" She crawled into my lap as a I turned around in my desk chair. And then she pointed to the crucifix that hangs on my office wall, "Is God dead, Daddy?"

Ah, now this makes sense. She is a good Lutheran, who understands Good Friday. This wasn't a crisis of faith in my toddler, it was a teaching opportunity. And so, all rush to prepare for the service stopped. Now was the time to stop everything, and answer her questions. We talked about Good Friday, and the fact that Jesus died on the cross, and that was sad. And then we talked about Easter, and how Jesus rose again, lives forever, and we don't have to be sad any more. We ended our discussion with a competition to see who could shout "Alleluia!" the loudest as we celebrated the fact that Jesus is risen.

The point of this is not that my daughter is amazing (although she is - just ask me sometime and I'll tell you all about how amazing she is). No, the point is the importance for parents to talk with their children about faith. Keep objects of faith around the house - crosses, Bibles, artwork. Bring your children to church to see the people gathering and hear the stories. Do those things, live your faith, and they will ask you about it.

Just like grown-ups, children are trying to make sense of their world. The first place children are going to turn with their questions is to mom and dad. Make the time to answer those questions. If you do not - if you are too busy to answer their questions, if the questions make you uncomfortable - then your children will learn the lesson: there is not enough time for faith, and God is not something we talk about. And, well, a faith not talked about will die out and not be passed on to a new generation. A God not talked about from generation to generation may as well be dead.

Is God dead? Not in my house.