Joyful Noises
I confess that I have not always enjoyed the sounds that children make in church. I remember feeling embarrassed at all the negative attention my younger brother brought to our family because he would not sit quietly in church. In college, our choir director modeled for us a resentment of the restless toddlers who ruined any chance of getting a quality recording of our performance. Early in my ordained ministry, I sympathized with our parish organist, whose devotion to his craft led him to castigate crying babies and the parents who dared to bring them into that sacred space. How different things seem to me now!
As a preacher, I still experience a bit of frustration when, just as the sermon reaches an emotional climax, a member of the children’s choir drops their hymnal or an infant begins to wail. As I get older, however, and as my children age beyond the point at which they are among the likely culprits, I am learning to hear even the most untimely or moment-arresting child-noises as a gift of God. To my ears, that which was once a source of frustration has become a source of joy—a sound of our collective capacity for deeper joy. As my boss used to say to that curmudgeonly parish organist, the sounds that children make are the sounds of a growing parish, and that means job security for all of us.
How do you experience the sounds that children make in church? When do they take away from your experience of God’s holy presence among us? When do they deepen your encounter with the divine?
Some of my favorite moments in church are those times when a child yells out in response to or as a part of something the rest of the congregation is doing. Although not a regular occurrence, children sometimes offer a spontaneous “Hooray!” or “Amen!” at the end of the sanctus (“Holy, holy, holy…”) or when the sung eucharistic prayer finishes. I can think of no better expression of worship than an instinctive shout of praise coming from the mouth of a young child.
Sometimes, when the choir finishes a gorgeous anthem, a child will offer the sort of positive vocal feedback many of us hold silently in our hearts—“Yay!”—and, when that happens, the rest of the congregation usually erupts in joyful laughter. In moments like that, the unguarded and unreserved joy of children is an expression of the joy that the rest of us feel but may be too conditioned by cultural norms to share aloud.
Of course, children also make lots of noises that do not reflect the attitude of the rest of the congregation. Sometimes babies cry. Sometimes young children talk loudly when their parents want them to whisper. Sometimes children race up and down the aisle when everyone else is sitting quietly. Listening to the sermon or focusing on the prayers can be difficult when there is a noisy, uncooperative child nearby.
Parents of young children often have a hard time focusing on their own spiritual needs when they must attend to the exigent needs of their children. People in adjacent pews have a hard time, too, when someone else’s child is screaming, and that becomes doubly hard on the parent who wants nothing more than to avoid being the source of frustration for others. As a priest who rarely has the opportunity to sit with his family in church, I have very little experience trying to pacify disruptive children in the pew, but I can offer some thoughts on why we need children and their disruptions in worship.
At baptism rehearsals, I tell parents that it is okay if their children make noise in church—even a lot of noise. Children are just as much a part of the Body of Christ as any of the rest of us. When children become noisy, they are simply reminding us that they are here with us. Is there any better time to hear from a child than on a baptismal Sunday, when we are celebrating the incorporation of a new member into Christ’s body? I assure them that that is true on any Sunday, but I imagine that I will have more success getting that point across if I start with a day of baptism.
I try to assure parents that they will be more uncomfortable with the sounds their child makes than anyone else in the room. If they reach the point when their child’s crying is unbearable for them, they are welcome to stand in the back of church and bounce their child in their arms or walk with them back and forth until they settle down. If necessary, parents can even leave the nave and stand in the bookstore, where the online worship feed is displayed on a television, but I remind them that we would rather them stay in church. We are a better church when children are with us, even disruptive ones.
When they are not sitting by the font for a baptism, I encourage parents of young children to sit in the front row. I know that it is tempting to hide in the back, where fewer disapproving stares can reach you, but children are eager to participate in something they can see. If the only thing visible to them is the back of people’s heads, why would they want to pay attention and take part in the service? If you have a hard time convincing a child to sit through the whole service, try sitting up front where they can see what is happening. Allow them to point and ask questions. Trust that their engagement with the service—even if it feels disruptive—is a holy gift to the rest of us.
What about children’s church? Not every congregation has a children’s church program, in which those who are too big for the nursery but too little to appreciate the sermon leave for an age-appropriate lesson. I think there are good reasons to encourage children of all ages to stay in “big church” for the entire service, but I also recognize that many children will have a fuller experience of worship if the sermon, creed, and prayers are designed especially for them. Parents, too, who yearn for a few quiet moments for their own formation appreciate it. At St. Paul’s, we want our children’s church program to offer an authentic worship experience for children that parallels what the rest of us are doing in church. From time to time, though, I hope parents will allow their children to sit with them through the sermon so that both they and the rest of us can experience their presence in worship.
One of the things I love about our church is our willingness to embrace people whose engagement with the world and the community is different from the majority. Our youth program has long been a place of welcome for teenagers with diverse learning styles. The relationships we have built with those who experience food insecurity or inadequate housing have helped a number individuals from different socio-economic backgrounds feel welcome in our worship services. Instinctively, the people of St. Paul’s seem to know that we are a better church when those who gather reflect the beautiful diversity of humanity, and I believe that includes a diversity of ages.
We cannot be a manifestation of the Body of Christ if children are not fully welcome among us. We cannot live out our identity as the Body of Christ if children cannot be themselves in our midst. When a parent risks the discomfort that comes with bringing an unpredictable child into church and that child announces their presence boldly, they give the rest of us a gift. They remind us that the community that has gathered in Jesus’ name is, in fact, a manifestation of Christ’s presence among us. They teach us how to belong to God in all our different and sometimes disruptive ways.
Yours faithfully,
Evan D. Garner
