I love to hear from children. Not all the time. Not while we are shopping and our two-year-old yells, “Look mama! That man is gonna have a baby!” But children sure write interesting notes to pastors. Here are a few that are too good not to share. “Dear pastor: Please say in your sermon that Peter Peterson has been a good boy all week. Sincerely, Peter Peterson.” From Arnold: “I know God loves everybody, but He never met my sister.” “I’m sorry I can’t leave more money in the offering plate, but my father didn’t give me a raise in my allowance. Could you have a sermon about a raise in my allowance? Love Patty.”
“My mother is very religious,” writes Annette, age nine. “She goes to play bingo at church every week even if she has a cold.”
And finally, Loreen, age nine: “I think a lot more people would come to your church if you moved it to Disneyland.” Loreen has a point, doesn’t she? I’ve awakened some Sundays and thought, why church? I’d like to sleep in. There’s football on. The fridge is right over there. Besides, there are hypocrites at church. What if the sermon goes into extra innings? Eleven-year-old Ralph told his pastor, “I liked your sermon. Especially when it was finished.” Ever felt that way? The truth is, there’s better entertainment out there. Besides, I’ve been hurt and disappointed at church. Where two or more are gathered in God’s name, things will eventually get messy.
So why do I go to church each Sunday? From the time our kids were small, I wanted them to see that I am part of something bigger than little old me. I’m part of a body. And when one part hurts, the others hurt too. They hurt enough to do something about it. I wanted them to see that most people at church are gracious; a few are grouchy. That’s life. I go to church to hear from God. I do this best when I listen, not when I think of others seated near me who badly need the message. I go to encourage and be encouraged. At church I connect with people so very unlike me. I need “unlike me” people in my life. I need the young guy updating me on chemo treatments. The old guy with the hearing aids and respirator. The friend going through a nasty divorce. I need to hurt, pray and help where I can.
I love one-on-one time with God. But there’s nothing quite like watching my favourite sports team live, or my favourite band in concert. In the same way, I long for what happens at church. By God’s grace, our kids go to church now too. Not because I tell them to, but because they want to. And since God is my Father, each week is a big old family reunion. Trust me, we’re a motley crew. But join us at church this week. Don’t wait for the hearse to bring you there.
