I can't believe it's almost the weekend again. That's one nice thing about traveling on Monday and having Carl home on Tuesday: Wednesday feels like Monday, and by the time you think you're in the middle of the week, it's done. Nice.
It was a tiring weekend, especially because we stayed almost an entire day extra (we had planned on leaving first thing Monday morning, and instead we left after dinner on Monday) (and then drove straight home, no stops, in the rain. Less than fun.), but it was good. It was great to see Gram:
And get a chance to play in her yard:
It was also good to see friends, both the ones we expected to see, and the ones we didn't. The reason we stayed that extra day was to get a chance to sit in on the first two sessions of the Bunyan Conference and see people we hadn't seen for over a year. As it turned out, we also saw people we hadn't seen for a much longer time: Steve and Anne, who are old friends of my family and we haven't seen since our wedding; Bob and Margie, whom I have known my entire life; and Marcellus, who is pastor of one of the churches in St. Lucia where I went on my missions trips nine and ten years ago, and whom I haven't seen since. And while Every Single Person who saw us said the Exact Same Thing: "It's so good to see you are your parents coming????" I was able to not get an inferiority complex over it.
What I didn't like about the Monday at the Conference was when I had to go out to the foyer with Grace shortly after the first session started, and from there into the nursery. Joy sat with Carl through the entire first session (Jo, he said he thinks she was fascinated by your dad's preaching style), but for the second I took her into the nursery with Grace and me so she could run around and work out some energy before the long car ride home.
I realize that the Bunyan Conference is a theological conference, started first for pastors and only later expanded to welcome anyone and everyone. So I understand that they aren't going to arrange nursery workers for small children (or even set up some speakers so that mothers who have to take their children into nursery can at least listen in to the message). But as I sat there, alone, I got thinking that it is all wrong. Mothers of young children ought to be given a place where they can listen, too. We of all people need to hear rich teaching and deep theology. Our lives are spent in constant repetition of "What does a dog say?" and potty-training and teeth and saying "no" and ...
Man, we need refreshment more than almost anyone else. They - we - ought to be made more than welcome at a theological conference. Organizers ought to go out of their way to make it so that mothers have a chance to listen and learn and be renewed. Because as wonderful as it was to see everybody, I still couldn't help feeling a little resentful and marginalized as I had to sequester myself away in the nursery, just me and the girls, like it is Every Day, while others got to hear the Word of God expounded on and be blessed.
Admittedly, I'm prejudiced. I am a mother of young children, so naturally I think the world ought to revolve around us. I still think, though, even looking at it objectively, that the world, and especially the church, doesn't do enough to serve this rather large group of individuals who are hungering and thirsting for both fellowship and teaching.
What do you think?
14 comments:
Oh, I think that the world is extremely prejudiced toward mothers with young children. Mothers need communication with the outside world. They should be able to listen to theological discussion too.
I will say I still laugh when I think of the time a few weeks ago that someone asked me if we had a baby changing table in our bathroom, here at the TV station. I guess some people may get where they expect them everywhere. Of course they also think we have makeup artists for the talent. Nope. They just have a big mirror outside said bathroom.
What I'm getting at in a round about way is that sadly, all places can't be accommodating to all people. It's just not practical.
Of course if you were in a church, I don't understand why there wouldn't be speakers to listen to. We had those in the nursery at my church when I was a baby and dinosaurs roamed the earth. It's not fair to nursery workers to not have one.
The good news is, that mommies have so many more outlets for communication than they did even fifteen years ago.
I certainly don't expect most people/places to be accommodating to mothers; as you say, Adrienne, that's just not practical. And I do think this church does have speakers in the nursery, but they weren't on and even though I looked I couldn't figure out how to turn them on, and nobody from the church thought to offer to give me a hand. (And maybe I could have hunted someone down and asked, but I am NOT that bold, even when I should be. Yes, I realize that this is a flaw.)
I was just bothered that it didn't even occur to them that mothers might WANT to listen, or even attend. In fact, Carl and I were the only ones there, out of a hundred people, with children at all, because the conference is very much not set up for it. And I'm not blaming anyone, or even complaining (too much); it just seems short-sighted, you know? Like people have blinders on so they can't see the possible needs of this very marginalized group. We DO have interests outside our home and family, if we're allowed to do so.
Oh how I sympathize with you! Being a mother is a wonderful privilege, but our needs as part of the Church too often are forgotten. You'd think that reaching out to a group of people in the fellowship that are literally busy 24 hours a day and miss out on most all adult teaching in the church service and find even having meaningful spiritual conversations rare and difficult would be a priority. But no, hearing the story of the flood and all the wonderful animals for the hundredth time should be enough spiritual nourishment for them, and teaching children's Sunday School is what their niche should of course be.
Ok, that was sarcastic, but I really think young mothers are an important part of the church. They can't be skipped over during this season of their life.
Our church is having a mother's day event, but have asked that no one bring their children- leave them with an aunt, a grandma or husband they say. What about those who have no family around? It just annoyed me that they don't offer to have babysitters for the MOTHER's day event there at the church. Afterall, aren't we celebrating motherhood? Not trying to stress them out looking for sitters?
I went with Adam the other day up to the mountain village where he is discipling a man. His wife was busy the whole time making tortillas, caring for her newborn, watching the kids, making us special food...I felt bad that she is not getting any discipling herself. I know her husband can probably share with her what he has learned, but I wonder if that happens. I don't even know if she is a Christian.
I will stop now before I start on a tirade.
So I share your frustration. (also, please forgive all the spelling and grammatical errors).
I totally understand the sarcasm, Krista! On the one hand, you have people who assume you are going to toss your kids in nursery or junior church and forget about them until you are ready to go home; on the other, you have those who assume you don't have any spiritual needs at all and should be perfectly capable of showing Christ's love to your children without any kind of nourishment to your own spirit.
For the regular church service, Carl and I like to keep the girls in with us as long as we can, until they get too restless. Then we take them to nursery. At a conference like the one we were just at, though, where the messages are longer and the topics weightier, and there are two sessions in a row ... well, I'm just not going to ask my two-year-old to sit through all that. And my eleven-month-old CAN'T sit through that. So I'm stuck. In nursery. Again.
At my church growing up the room where you took your kids if they were crying during the homily was called (with a plaque on the door!) the "Mother and Baby room." !!! First of all, the Catholic Church places so much of an emphasis on having a lot of kids as a way to glorify God that it seems ridiculous to shut them out of sight in the basement if they so much as cry. Second of all, MOTHER and Baby? Because it's the MOTHER'S job to miss church if her kid cries? What happens if a Father wants to take his kid in there? Does he need a pass?
I love my Quaker meeting house because they have NO compunctions about allowing small, noisy children in meeting. They believe that every person, no matter how small, can be touched by and testify to God's greatness. A few weeks ago, I was in church and a baby, about 9 or 10 months old, was sitting in front of me, laughing and cooing loudly to herself in an entirely silent meeting. When she was finished, someone across the room stood up with a grin and said, "The little one was telling us something about the wonderfulness of the new spring world, I think." It was a wonderful and beautiful moment.
Oh Connie, your description of the Quaker meeting makes my heart ache. That's how it should be! I understand about kids who are completely disruptive and acting in a way that blocks other people from paying attention—allowing that to go on without caring is just disrespectful on the parents' part, both toward other people and really toward God. But a baby who is just a little noisy, or a kid who maybe needs to walk around a little bit? That really shouldn't be considered a problem. At least, I don't think so. I'm not completely biased by being a mother, either, because I thought much the same even before I had kids!
Aside from my earlier comments, I personally have always liked seeing little kids in church with their parents. How else are they to learn how to behave in church if we don't start showing them at an early age?
There does come a point where some are just plain disruptive. You know what though? Some of my most cherished church memories from high school are of my pastor's wife picking up their oldest boy as a toddler and taking him out of the service. There was always a loud cry of, "I'll be good! I'll be good!" I wonder if Brady remembers that? If he did, he probably would feel guilty for being such a handful for his mother. She passed away five years ago.
That said, I think that we should all be more accepting and tolerant of children in services. The child who may make a little noise during service today, will be your youth leaders tomorrow, and your church leaders after that.
To add to my last comment, I don't always agree with having a separate childrens' church. Until I was six, my Dad wasn't an avid church goer. In fact, he wasn't saved until then. At about the same time, our church started childrens' church. I rarely got to see my Dad studying the Word in church. I rarely ever got to have that experience with him, because he was gone four years later. I would trade any number of Sundays spent singing "Zacchaeus Was A Wee Little Man" and "Father Abraham." We often just watched videos anyway. I think a huge part of the worship experience is sharing that as a family. That said,as long as a kid isn't screaming at the top of its lungs, I think they belong in the service.
Adrienne, I've never liked the idea of junior church for the very reason you mentioned: how can you expect a kid to learn how to behave in church when he/she is never THERE? They won't just magically know how to sit still when they reach a certain age.
There are disruptions and there are disruptions, I think. There are some that are just plain TOO MUCH and the parent needs to remove the child. Then there are some that other people need to learn to deal with. That old "children should be seen and not heard" mentality is one of our sadder heritages from the Victorian Age.
I mostly agree that people should take their kids out if they are being REALLY disruptive...but I feel like when you see a parent scurrying out of service he or she is doing it half with the intent of preserving the quiet and half for the intent of preserving their pride. Just for the sake of argument, what if we didn't? Would we feel less pressure to be perfect if we didn't worry so much about people seeing our little failures (like a misbehaving child)?
I definitely think there is an aspect of pride involved (though I hate to admit it!). I know I am always convinced people are judging my parenting skills every moment, but,
1) I always remind myself of Lady Cumnor's statement in W&D: "People may flatter themselves just as much by thinking that their faults are always present to other people's minds as if they believe that the world is always contemplating their individual charms and virtues." Or as my mother used to say to her brother-in-law when he would whine about how everyone was out to get him: "You're just not that important."
2) Even if people ARE judging me (and from what I've observed of other parents, many of them really are super judgmental), It Doesn't Matter. Other people's opinion of how I am parenting my kid, unless they are going to call CPS on me for it, does not, should not, affect me.
So yes, I need to hammer that into my skull. Thank you for the reminder, and the different take on it, Connie!
I totally 100% agree, I have felt that feeling many many times.
It brings up anger and sadness to read your description of it, because it is just so familiar to me.
Even if there were speakers, it is not the same as being in the room and seeing the preacher.
She was probably more afraid than interested in my Dad! LOL!
Love, JO
You're so right, Jo; seeing the preacher is so different from just hearing it on the speakers. Lis and I always fell asleep listening to preachers on tape; hear those same preachers in person and we were glued. Besides, when the parent is stuck in nursery, they miss much of the fellowship that goes on between services, etc.
I didn't see Joy through the service, so I couldn't say whether it was interest or fear, but she didn't cry or anything, so I doubt she was too scared! She is somewhat used to people who get carried away by their passion for truth ... she lives with Carl. ;-)
Elouise: I love that quote from W&D! BTW, I just loaned my copy to my mom and she loves it, too. She is reading North and South now.
It makes me think of another (less prosaic) quote: Nobody wants to see how sausage and laws are made. I feel like too many people (myself totally included) apply that to difficult things in their personal lives. People don't want anyone to see that they (or their children, loved ones, pets) are less than perfect, for fear of what the perception of their selves might be. It creates a lot of pressure, to keep it all bottled up inside, and it's pridefulness, too, isn't it?
I'm getting off-topic, but this just made me think of the old days when I'd misbehave in Church, and my mom would hustle me out to the parking lot saying, "Do you want everyone to know I have a boomah for a child?" (Boomah being my family's weird Arabic-derived word for brat.)
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