Julie’s News from Maryland

I’ve gotten a lot of grief for taking my kids to church in the last few years. I’ve gotten grief about the chapel at seminary. I’ve gotten grief in random churches in New York. Select people are hospitable and kind, some even telling us how grateful they are that we bring our children to church. Others simply glare at us whenever there is an unwelcome noise. And others go so far as to “shush” us or ask if our “children are going to be this disruptive all the way through the service.”

My kids are certainly not quiet, contemplative, placid children. How could they be? I’m not a quiet, contemplative, placid person. We are loud, wiggly, boisterous people. I do my best to help make worship the most positive experience I can for both my children and the people around me. I let my son bring his Gameboy with him to church, giving him something tactile to do while he sits through a service filled with songs that he can’t sing and activities that seem to make no sense to him. I bring crayons and coloring books for my daughter, who will pariticpate in various parts of the service, but needs something else to do while the rest of the service is happening. But, still, they are children. Sometimes they tell me they need to go to the bathroom (rather loudly) during the quietest moment of the service. Sometimes they ask for something that I deny during the service (like drawing pictures in the hymnals, for example) and this causes them to protest. Sometimes they just wiggle around and accidently make noise: knocking books on the floor, kneelers being lifted or dropped, legs banging into hollow pews.

I often find myself stuck between a rock and a hard place. Do I indulge their every request during worship so as to make it the most peaceful and quiet event possible? Do I attempt to require them to participate in the service (especially Nicholas who just tunes it all out), even when it makes him angry and loud? Do I scold and harrass them for every noise that they make during the service, leaving them (and me) feeling miserable about being in church? Or, do I not even bother to bring them because it is just such a bad experience for us most of the time?

There are exceptions to this experience. The Sunday evening service in the chapel has become a refuge for us. The community that gathers is small and most of the people at that service understand the exceptional nature of my children, especially Nicholas. They are gracious in allowing us to find our path to participation there. There are a few other churches where we’ve been, St. David’s in Ashburn and St. Timothy’s in Mountain View, that have created services specifically for families and children. These are places where my children can actually pariticpate because the music is simple (but not childish) and the service includes plenty of opportunities to wander around and often to touch things. When visiting San Antonio, I went to a delightful church, I think it was St. Andrew’s, and when I went to take Ella out during the sermon because she was fussy (she was only 9 months old at the time), an usher stopped me and told me not to leave. She said that their rector could preach louder than any baby could fuss and they didn’t want me leaving the church just because Ella wasn’t perfectly quiet.

But, I constantly wonder why having a good experience in church with my family is the exception and not the rule. Why do we exclude our children from worship? Why do people think that worshipping in a community is supposed to be a quiet, contemplative event for them personally? (I mean, really, if you want to meditate quietly, why not stay home and do it?) Why do people seem to experience children in worship as a burden and not a joy? And why, oh why, is worship so boring, even for the adults!, that it is horrendously boring for the children? Why can’t worship be fun and joyful?

I came across an article today in the December issue of Episcopal Life and discovered that the author writes a monthly column for Literary Mama. The article is called Cradle Christian and I think the author captures for me exactly how I feel about bringing my kids to church. My kids might not look or act like they are paying attention, but they are. They see and hear and feel all that happens in church and they are learning our faith just by being there. It is my sincere hope that they will also learn that church is a place where people love them and where they can always feel safe, though, sadly, that hasn’t always been the case.

Well, the GOEs are finished and now I’m totally useless. I putzed around the house yesterday - ordering groceries, cleaning up some of the clutter, paying some bills. Today I answered some emails, made some travel plans, putzed around the house again. Nicholas was home sick, so I spent some time sitting with him. But, I haven’t done one stitch of real work. I took a contract job for this three weeks and I have plenty of time to get the work done, but I’m finding it hard to get motivated to get any work done. I sit down at the computer like I am going to work, but then I start reading blogs and looking through email and doing all sorts of other things besides work. I figured yesterday that I just needed a day to transition. But, today was a total waste too. Got to figure out how to motivate myself to work.

When I worked my first contract job, the first winter break I had at seminary 2 years ago, I couldn’t wait to start working. I was dying to have my hands and my brain in the technology world again. I called into conference calls and talked to former colleagues. I got to think creatively and contribute to building a real product. It was so fun and energizing for me. But now, in a way, it kind of feels like a chore. I know I need to do it because the money is so helpful, but it just feels a bit off track to me these days. I tell myself that it is good for me to engage in a world outside of seminary and the church, just to remind myself that not everyone sits around everyday and wonders whether or not there are any acts that are intrisically evil.

Tomorrow is the day. Tomorrow I’ll get up and get stuff done. There won’t be any kids at home. I don’t have any other appointments are lunch dates. Just going to work. Really. I mean it this time. I totally will.