Raising kids in church

Why I make our kids go every Sunday

It’s been said before that the hour before church is the most unholy hour of the week, and for people who have small children, that likely rings true (it does for our household!). It’s hard to make sure everyone’s hair and teeth are brushed, locate matching socks and shoes, and scarf down breakfast before church begins on Sunday morning. I’m obviously biased, since I go to church for a living (if you’re new around here, I am an Episcopal priest), but I think most people would agree that it feels good to have gone to church. It’s like working out: it can be hard to start, but you never regret having done it. And it is a habit that gets easier to do with practice and consistency.

Of course, many people do not go to church anymore. A number of my good friends do not attend church regularly or hold a membership at a religious organization, and I wonder how my children will look back on the years they will have spent at church. Will they consider the practice old-fashioned? Quaint? Irrelevant? Outdated? I hope not, but I know their Sunday mornings look different from many of their friends’. Our family gives some things up to make church a priority—we travel less on weekends, and we do not have a leisurely, slow start to Sunday mornings because we are hustling to get out of the door. It is different for my family because church is my job, and some of the expectations of me spill over to them. I understand all of the reasons people do not attend—sports conflicts…the desire to enjoy one unhurried day in an otherwise crazybusy week…questioning whether or not the theological dogma even feels true or real…to name only a few.

But still, we go. Church is not perfect. It never will be. Churches are full of messy human beings who make all kinds of mistakes. When churches are at their best, though, they are places full of wonder and growth and grace.

I think about the gifts my children have received from attending the different churches I have served. My last call was in a small congregation, and my children were often the only young people present. The church didn’t have a large Sunday School or fancy programs but my kids gained so much. There they learned to be more comfortable around adults who weren’t their family members. They became familiar with challenges of different life stages because they knew the members of the congregation who grew ill or died. They felt safe to play hide-and-go seek in the parish hall, and they proudly dipped their communion wafers into the chalice…which all speaks to what is so special about the church:

1. Church is intergenerational. This is perhaps the greatest blessing of the church.  Many ages come together.  We become invested in one another’s lives and enrich our faith journeys. It is a wonderful thing to hear the perspective of someone a few steps ahead–and it’s also a wonderful thing to experience the world again through a young person’s eyes.

2. Church creates a village. Our children don’t have many opportunities to roam freely in today’s world and stay out and play until dark, but they can bounce between the pews with their friends during the children’s liturgy. They can find caring, wise adults and someone to talk to in their Sunday school teachers. They can participate fully in our worship and know that they are valued, whether they sing, acolyte, read, or come up for the children’s minute.

3. Church reminds them that they are not alone. We as a congregation promise every time we baptize someone to encourage them as they grow in their relationship with God. They are not left to figure out their faith by themselves. I still remember formative people in my own faith journey: Sunday school teachers, youth directors, and parishioners who took an interest in my life.

More important than memorizing Bible verses, more than knowing our faith’s foundational stories, more than learning theology and doctrine (although those are all good things), our children discover in church a supportive community that will hold them through their ups and downs. They are loved simply for being who they are, not because they are honor roll students or score tons of soccer goals or sell the most popcorn.  They are one of God’s own, and they are one of our own.

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