Real Leaders Finger-paint

I had a dream the other night. I’m singing at church during the worship service before the sermon. The lights are dimmed, the drums beat softly and I’m so caught up in the moment that it is like being with the angels. In my dream, I look around for the pastor, he is absent as usual. There is no sign of him in the front row; he is not sitting on stage. He is not speaking in hushed tones to someone in the lighting booth, he is indeed gone. Yet I don’t worry, in fact this brings me great satisfaction, for I know, in my dream, that he will appear only moments before he is to speak, covered head to toe in finger-paints. So I continue, in my dream, to sing and relax to the music understanding that our trusted leader is exactly where he should be: with his children. And as predicted, in my dream, my pastor races to the stage only seconds before he delivers his speech with a smile on his face, covered with blue and red paint. It is on his hands, splattered across his sleeve, and I detect a bit of green in his hair. He takes the stage with so much gumption that I’m actually jealous that he spent the last 20 minutes playing, while I was in here will all the grown ups.
He begins his message by reflecting on his recent experience with his children. He talks about his conversation with a rambunctious five year old Mason and coloring a picture of a camel with a shy four year old girl Cammy. He mentions how much Jessica looks like her older sister in the first grade class, and how impressed he is that all the parents in the church are bringing up such beautiful gifts from God.
He goes on to mention how much he values his time with his staff in the brief 20 minutes a week he spends in their classes.
He honors the volunteers who show up every week to work with children other than their own, and how dedicated they are to God’s great commission.
He tells a funny story or two about families and directly relates his message in sometimes small ways, and sometimes as a full message, to the children and families in his care.
Then I wake up.
I often look at the Christian education as nothing more than glorified babysitting. I know that sounds harsh and uncaring. I often receive staunch denials and even quick biting retorts, then excuse after excuse about why the children’s program is not working. The pastors complain about budgets. The volunteers complain about the poor curriculum. The parents complain about a busy life. The elders complain about the noise level of those pesky little people that grace the building every week. Everyone complains, except the individuals who rightly should complain: the kids.
As a child in the majority of today’s churches, you are shuttled into boring classes with infrequent (admittedly kind-hearted) volunteers who don’t know your name and came unprepared. You sit through repetitive Bible stories and are told how to apply this behaviorally, then given a page to color, a puzzle to solve, or a silly craft to produce before being served snack and a weekly Bible verse to memorize.
Your parents pick you up refreshed from their hour or so away, and you, as the child, are hungry, lonely, and yearn to be back with people you know love you.
Or, if you are a child in a new ‘relavant’ church, you are shuttled like cattle into a large auditorium where you are placed with multitudes of other children to watch a video or mass production show. You are told to yell out Bible verses and scream out answers to lesson trivia, then you have the pleasure of gathering in ‘small groups’ for some ‘personal time’ with ‘an adult who cares about you.’ This lasts for about 10 minutes while poorly trained workers deflate after all the noise and ask randomly selected questions about what you were supposed to learn today.
Your refreshed parents pick you up and ask you the same dreaded question, “What did you learn in Sunday school?” but you can hardly answer because your ears are still ringing from all the shouting.
The children should be complaining, but they don’t and they won’t. They’ll just walk away from the church when they are older, and they can, after all, they weren’t the priority of the church when they were a child, why should church be their priority as an adult? Statistics bear this out. 45% of children will leave the church by age 25. Some will return when they have children of their own and feel the tug of God pulling them home, but others won’t. They and their children will be lost and an opportunity by the church to really make a lifelong effect on an individual will be gone forever.
From an educational standpoint, after all churches are in the business of educating Christians, particularly children, hence the design of a chidren’s program, every institution needs a principal. In churches the principal is the pastor. He is the leader.
In a public or private school, the principal is actively involved in every aspect of his building. He knows his teachers, he knows his pupils. He understands the curriculum that is implemented daily in the classes his pupils attend. He holds meetings, he designs budgets. He oversees struggling students, holds conferences with struggling families, and is usually the center of every public event.
The church should be no different. The pastor needs to be involved, he is not a coach standing on the sidelines, he the point guard; the quarterback, the pitcher, he’s in the game.
Pastors need to get in their game. They need to be in the classes. They need to understand what is being taught and oversee the curriculum for its effectiveness and implementation. He needs to support his staff by walking into their world and giving them feedback. He needs to acknowledge a job well done and relieve volunteers who are suffering or ineffective.
He needs to be the public spokesman, rallying for support from his congregation.
Most importantly the pastor needs to get to know his families and children.
I watch my husband interact with his three children with admiration and sometimes awe. He knows every aspect of their lives. He can read when they are sad and coax from them every last detail of their dance recitals or bicycle accidents. He listens attentively to their scary dreams and is their number one cheerleader at all times. He can do this because he spends time with them. Never would he walk into the house and ignore their pleas to be hugged. He would not assume that I am the supreme authority on child raising, and therefore he should have nothing to do with them.
Yet that philosophy is exactly what I see pastors implement weekly in their churches. Most pastors have delegated sole responsibility of the children’s program to a Children’s Minister. They make the excuse that they are “not good with children” or “it is not my area of expertise” or “I simply don’t have time.” They ignore half of their church that dutifully shows up every week to be taught. They seldom grace the doorways where these attendants are housed. They don’t even give them lip service in their sermons or programs. In fact, most children are viewed as a lure to the real prize: Mom and Dad (Barna 2001.)
So, the solution is easy here: Pastors get in the game.
First, stop worrying about the adults. If they feel neglected because you are not at their beck and call, tell them that you just need some quality time with your kids!
Get in those classrooms and start painting! Start talking to your kids. They are actually pretty fun to be around. There’s no pressure for you to give a nifty speech or good advice, they don’t even care if you can draw. Just having you there makes their world a little better.
Then talk to your staff. They are people too and most of them are women. They need to know that you care enough to show up and support them. You don’t need to be really personal, just talk about the kids, or how you appreciate that they show up every week.
Then communicate your gratitude to your congregation. Most parents would be pleased (and amazed) that you are actively involved in the kids program. Tell them what you think about the curriculum, or what you think of the spiritual status of their kids (don’t know the answer to this? Then start quizzing your kids during playtime.) Tell them that you value them as parents. Be honest and kind. Every parent wants someone to appreciate them and acknowledge their child.
Finally, have fun. Adults are boring. Kids are awesome! Time to start playing in the big leagues (or should I call it little league?)