What should we do with children at church?
Rethinking church childcare and children's liturgies...
Childcare in church is a travesty.
There, I said it. A wiser friend told me that I shouldn’t lead with such an inflammatory remark—but that’s ultimately what I’m getting at, so why not just come out and say it?
And I mean it. I’m sure at least some (many… most?) of you disagree, and I’d love to hear your objections. Seriously. Let me know in the comments or send me an email.
The type of childcare I’m writing against is any situation where children leave their parents during Mass or a church service. While what I have in mind is primarily the type of childcare or nursery that one would find at many Protestant services, my criticisms also extend to the sort of children’s liturgies of the word that one might find in a Catholic setting, too. Such practices seem to be a mostly modern invention, and I can find little evidence prior to the Reformation of any sort of children’s services. Regardless, that it’s a new development is hardly a sufficient reason such things be avoided—although it may be a reason for wariness. Rather, childcare in church, children’s services, and the like should be avoided because it prevents the proper formation of children.
But childcare in church allows us parents to get so much more out of it…
Maybe. But is church primarily about what you or I “get out of it”? What sort of message does this send to our kids? It at least communicates that matters of faith are primarily individual (they’re not), and at worst communicates that they, our children, are a distraction. Even more than that, we’re teaching our children that worship only happens when we’re comfortable and focused.
One can hardly imagine that during the Sermon on the Mount that entire families did not gather to hear Jesus and—as he spoke—there weren’t children crying or laughing or roughhousing. One can hardly imagine the same guy who said, “Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them…” (Mt 19:14; Mk 10:14; Lk 18:16 ESV-CE)—who became indignant that his disciples would even suggest children be sent away—also saying, “Unless, of course, your kids distract you. Then send them off with Peter for an hour and pick them up on your way out.”
Children are able to pick-up far more than we often assume, and participation in the Mass or church service can be catechetical. One day after the first reading, Jack responded, “Thanks be to God.” I didn’t teach him that. He was two years old at the time, and never had seemed to pay any attention to what was going on around him. Now, at three, he knows many of the responses, will say the Our Father with us, and has a lot of questions. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to make him out to be some sort of child wonder—it’s not like he’s responding in Latin. He’s still the same kid who dropped-trou in the sanctuary (twice) immediately after Mass while we visited with friends. But the amount he has learned simply sitting through Mass each week is amazing.
But wouldn’t he have learned so much more in a setting designed for children?
The Mass isn’t primarily catechetical, and regardless of how much Jack’s learned, he like everyone else, should be there. While there are significant differences between the Catholic Mass and most Protestant services, we can probably agree that Sunday worship is a matter of justice—what is owed God. While we all hope to be edified by the homily or sermon, that’s not the primary reason one ought to attend church.1
Additionally, sending our children off to another room is an abdication of one of our chief parental duties: to catechize our children. If we want to teach our kids the faith, we should first and foremost set an example at church each Sunday and on holy days by worshipping together as a family. Lex orandi, lex credendi, lex vivendi: As we worship, so we believe, so we live.2 The ancient church understood that how we pray or worship is intricately interwoven with what we believe and how we live. What our children need is not another catechetical program or a playroom to keep them occupied, but to learn to worship with the Church… and that is primarily done by, well, worshipping. We should guard against conflating church with ‘Sunday school.’ There is a place for the latter, but it does not fulfill the obligation of worship. This includes children’s liturgies of the word, too (although, I have more patience with such initiatives since children return to their families before the Eucharist).
“… for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.”
It’s often the parents that are most sensitive to their children’s behavior at church. After one particularly challenging Mass with Jack, an old-timer commented on how much he enjoyed seeing him there. There’s no way he could be talking about my child, I thought. But time-after-time I’ve learned that most people are encouraged by the sight of families at church.
Those that aren’t thrilled to hear a fussy baby or energetic toddler perhaps need to be reminded that “… whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it” (Mk 10:15). It is no coincidence that the story of the rich young ruler immediately follows Jesus’ encounter with the children in all three synoptic Gospels. There is a clear contrast between the young ruler and the children. The rich young ruler has kept all of the commandments, but cannot enter the kingdom of God because of his attachment to material things. Children, however, have no material possessions and naturally live a life that more closely resembles a life of Christian poverty. If children provide the model disposition for entering the kingdom, why on earth would we cast them out of the sanctuary? In this might be the strongest argument for children in church: That they teach us how to enter the kingdom of God!
The problem with waiting for our children to be “ready” is that such a benchmark doesn’t actually exist. I’m not advocating for anarchy nor am I suggesting that swift justice won’t ever have to be delivered in the form of an ear-flick. There are situations where it’s prudent to remove our children from the service or Mass. We’ve personally found that certain ages have been more challenging than others. That toddler phase, in particular, where kids are mobile but can’t quite reason yet, has certainly been the most difficult season in Mass for us (we spent a lot of time chasing Jack around in the narthex during that phase). Had we waited for Jack to be “ready”—and if by “ready” we mean he understands most of what’s happening—he still would not be attending Mass. What would that “readiness” benchmark look like anyways? What does a child need to be able to understand or do in order to “properly” worship God? If we take Jesus at his word, they simply need to come as they are.
Our responsibility as parents is to “train up a child in the way he should go” (Prv 22:6), forming them properly so their loves are ordered towards God. Immediately after stating the greatest commandment, Moses exhorts Israel, “You shall teach [the commandments] diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise” (6:7). The commandments are inextricably intertwined with right worship, and even a casual reading of the Old Testament reveals the disaster that follows when Israel fails to faithfully worship God. If we want to form our children properly, it needs to begin with worship—and that takes place within the Church.
I recognize that there will be varying perspectives on the "purpose” of church. My assumption is that most traditions would concede that church is not primarily about what one learns.
This phrase was adapted from a work of Prosper of Aquitaine.
I knew I was going to like this but man it's a good word. As a single guy, I don't think I've ever been annoyed by a kid drawing or moving about in the pew in front or behind me. now, their parent or older sibling on a phone, that's a different story. Good word Davey!