Minister’s Workshop: They Count, Too

We’ve always said we care about our children and believe in ministering to them. But do we really? Have we demonstrated our concern? Of course, we have Sunday school. We give an occasional party and perhaps set up a few activities for them. But are children really significant in the life of the church?

At our church we’ve been putting more and more emphasis on the children. It’s true that they are the leaders of tomorrow. But they are also people of today, and they qualify for our attention and concern just as much as those of any other age do.

Every Sunday during our worship service we have a children’s sermon. After the opening hymn and prayers I invite the youngsters to the front. They sit on the floor around me for a five-minute sermon, nearly always illustrated, and on a level that they can understand. That means using concepts and a vocabulary within the grasp of children under twelve.

In the beginning, not everyone was sure that the children’s sermon was a good idea. “Some of the people are complaining,” an elder reported after the third Sunday. “They say you’re spending too much time in the service with those kids.”

“I’m sorry they feel that way,” I replied. “I certainly don’t want to upset anyone. But what we’ve been saying by our attitude, if not by our words, is that children don’t really count; God isn’t interested in you until you become a teenager—except in Sunday school, of course. Don’t you think we ought to let the children know that they do count?” He nodded. Not enthusiastically, but at least he nodded.

Three Sundays later at the door he said, “You know, I enjoyed the children’s sermon this morning. It was a lesson for me as well.” And six months later he said, “I hope this won’t hurt your feelings, but sometimes I get more out of your children’s sermons than I do the regular ones.”

I told him that I was glad he was getting something out of the worship experience and that I didn’t care whether it was the hymns, the prayers, the organ music, or some other part of the service that ministered to him.

Before beginning, I discussed the idea of a children’s sermon with some parents. Although they didn’t oppose it, they felt it would not be effective to have young children attend the whole service. “We want our children to learn something,” one said. “It’s awfully boring for my five-year-old to sit through an hour of regular worship.”

We developed a compromise. The children’s sermon takes place at about 11:10, after the opening prayers and a hymn. When it is over the four- and five-year-olds go to another part of the church for a forty-five minute program. From time to time the teachers talk to them about what went on during the quarter hour when they were in the worship service. They’re also told, “Just think, when you’re six, you can sit in there with the others.”

We considered the junior-church idea, and one day we may try that. But I feel that it’s good for families to have the experience of worshiping together. And the children seem to like the arrangement. Every Sunday morning children greet me warmly at the door. I receive effusive hugs from both girls and boys. I love those children, and their expressions tell me that they know it.

Amuse-You-Tuesday, another program for children, developed out of a comment by Vicki Turner. “Cec, we need to do something more for our kids. The teen-agers get a lot of attention, but what about the ten-year-olds?”

Others agreed. And so one Tuesday morning eight of us got together to talk about it. We decided that what was needed in a program for children was an enthusiastic presentation, solid biblical content, and a certain amount of physical activity—drama, crafts, or simple recreation.

On Tuesdays we start at four P.M. Children who come early can have juice and cookies. Occasionally we start the hour with crafts, and the children begin working on their projects as soon as they arrive.

Normally we spend ten or fifteen minutes on singing. I’m not a great singer—the pianist once asked me, “How can I find your key when you sing somewhere between two of them?”—but I am enthusiastic. And I can make the children sing. We do action songs and we learn Bible verses set to music. In six weeks we learned to sing all the books of the Old Testament.

Next there is a Bible story, done by one of the volunteers or by me. We use the flannelgraph board, or flashcard pictures, or puppets, or chalk drawings.

Then two creative women lead the children in crafts and physical activity. They may have the children dramatize the story they’ve heard, as we did the three Hebrew children in the fiery furnace. Or they have a related craft project, such as making three-dimensional ravens out of construction paper, each with a piece of bread in its mouth, to illustrate the story of God’s sending the birds to feed Elijah.

On Sunday evenings we have the Good News Club. Learning centers are set up around the room. On a typical evening, one child might be listening to a cassette telling the story of Abraham leaving his country. Another is looking at slides that show what ancient Palestine looked like. Three others are in a corner building a tent. Another group is doing simple research to find out what kind of food the patriarchs ate.

We’re also trying out other programs. For instance, at our monthly church family service, we’re having a separate program for children when the adult speakers don’t interest them. And we’re planning to have the children themselves handle the service at least once a year.

Jim, a gifted musician, is developing an unusual type of choir. Children from kindergarten through sixth grade sing a psalm of praise while the teen-agers flow in with a more contemporary piece, such as “Day by Day” from Godspell. Sometimes the musical instruments that the children are learning to play, such as the French horn, clarinet, and guitar, are written into the musical number.

It doesn’t take a church with two thousand members to do programs like these; our membership is only three hundred. What’s needed most is the determination to show children that we care about them.—CECIL B. MURPHEY, pastor, Riverdale Presbyterian Church. Riverdale, Georgia.

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