I grew up hating church. I didn’t have any theological problems with church, I was just bored. Sitting still for more than ten minutes was torture, and sometimes our services went on for two hours! The worst part is that my dad was the pastor, so we were there every time the door was open. And the door was open a lot: Sunday morning, Sunday night, Wednesday night.
Sometimes we had “revivals” (which I assumed was a Greek word for “torture young children”) It meant going to a church service every night of the week. My number one goal was to grow up and not go to church. My number two goal was to be an astronaut, but I figured that would get me out of church as well.
Several decades later, and I still attend church almost every weekend. How did I wind up right back at the place I loathed? There are a few reasons:
One is a strong conviction that, as flawed as it is, the local church is the hope of the world.
Another reason I never left the church is that something changed in me between elementary school and when I left for college.
My attention span didn’t increase; I still struggle to sit still for more than ten minutes. The big change for me was that in middle school, I began serving in the church; I joined the children’s ministry puppet team.
For the first time church wasn’t something I watched, it was something I did. I was part of a team, and we enjoyed what we did. Eventually, I became a leader in the student ministry. And by the time I graduated from high school, I was speaking on a regular basis at our weekly high school gatherings.
Serving transformed me from a reluctant spectator to an engaged participant. 36 years later, and I’m still committed to the local church.
I saw the same pattern in my own kids. When they were young, we had to drag them to church. But in middle school, when they began to serve, their attitudes changed. By the time they graduated from high school, they were each spending more time serving at church than my wife and me, and we were both on the church staff. Today each of them serve full time at their local church.
As a parent, one of the biggest things you can do to help your children connect with God and with the local church is to model and encourage a lifestyle of serving. Here are a few ideas how to get started:
Find serving opportunities as soon as possible
It is never too early to sow the seeds of a servant’s attitude in the hearts of your children. Reward them when they help pick up the toys at home. Encourage them to offer to help their teacher clean up when class is over at church. Always look for ways they can begin serving others.
Invite your children to serve with you
Volunteer to serve regularly in their class at church, and invite them to help you. They can help pick up toys, hand snacks, and clean up when the other kids are gone. If you serve in a younger class, invite your older kids to help.
Help them find a place to serve on their own
When my daughter was in middle school, she began teaching herself to play the guitar. It quickly became apparent she had a lot of natural ability, but she was too shy to ask if she could play in the middle school band. I talked the youth pastor into inviting her to play, and that opportunity still shapes how she serves. There are many places in your church where your middle school kids can serve; children’s ministry, greeters, ushers, musicians, vocalists are just a few. Don’t be shy about asking adult leaders how they can involve your kids in serving.
Make serving a part of the rhythm of your house
One of the reasons I began serving in church is it was just a regular part of who we were as a family. My dad, my mom, my brothers and my sister all served in the local church, and serving took the highest priority.
As you look at your family schedule and all the activities you juggle on a weekly basis, which are most likely to have a long term impact on the spiritual development of your children? Baseball? Cheerleading? Chemistry homework? Learning a lifetime of serving others?
I believe, and have seen in my own family, few things in life have a more positive impact than learning to serve.
In this week’s lesson Mary gives birth to Jesus in a stable. You can watch the video here with your child:
view video here
My kids have taken an interest lately in watching our wedding video. It has been a fun thing to indulge in with them. They get to see the faces of friends and family they know so well, and grapple with comprehending how they weren’t even alive yet. It’s also been bittersweet. We have been married long enough to see that the faces of those at the wedding are different from the faces we know now. People have aged. Some have passed away. Relationships are different.
Engaging in this activity with my kids compels me to be a storyteller with them. I can invite them into my rusty recollections. I can show them mental snapshots of an unfamiliar world and connect the dots in their little lives before they even know there are dots to connect.
Telling stories gets me—and my kids—outside of the now in a way nothing else can. We slow down. We pause. We abandon dishes, laundry, noise and motion, and we simply listen.
It does for them what stories did for me growing up.
My dad has always been a great storyteller, telling his best stories around the dinner table. He could get and keep our attention as kids—and now adults—like no one else, captivating us with mischievous, barely credibly tales of his life as the only child in blue collar northern Kentucky town. I remember sitting there as a kid, absolutely consumed. He had a history. Which meant I had a history. I heard stories of a hard life with difficulties and challenges I had no understanding of and no context for, and hearing them made me see my dad in a more complete and whole way. His identity was bigger than what I saw before me. He was more than the sum of his parts.
Which means stories may be more than just a way to pass the time and slow us down. It could be that stories have a deeper meaning, and matter more than we realize. In the book “The Secrets to Happy Families,” Bruce Feiler suggests that children who hear, and learn their family’s story and narrative, create not just emotionally healthy children, but stronger and more foundational families as a whole.
More than that, there is a kind of story that matters more than any other. Dr. Marshall Duke calls it the oscillating family narrative, and he describes it as a story told with ups and downs.
There is heartache and there is hope. There is success and there are failures. There are dreams and there are disappointments. But the gift of this kind of story is the sense of family that comes from experiencing everything on the spectrum. Dr. Duke says it creates a strong “intergenerational self” because “they [kids] know they belong to something bigger than themselves.”
Which brings me back to the wedding video, and how cathartic it is for me, and how consequential it is for my children. I know, it isn’t really about the video. It’s about the remembering. Taking the time to look back for my kids’ sake and my own is a gift. It isn’t just an indulgence on my part. It is history making and history forming on theirs. It gives them a glimpse into who I am—a great reminder for me— and, by association who they can be—a big dream for them. It gives them a perspective, a depth, a richness that would otherwise be lost, or missed, or under valued.
So this week, take some time to remember with your kids. Share stories. Tell them stories of themselves. Of you. Of their grandparents. Invite them into the world that existed long before them so they are more equipped to enrich the world long after them. And then dream with them about the future. Get their minds imagining what could be, after giving them sight into what was.
Bruce Feiler says this may be a secret to a happy family. I say it is a practice and a preserver of a strong family.
For more on how stories matter, follow the conversation here.
Sarah Anderson writes for the XP3 student curriculum at Orange. She is married to Rodney Anderson and is mom to two beautiful bouncy boys, Asher and Pace.