Sunday School in America 2007

My first memory of Sunday school was of a cold, barren room in the basement of a gothic church in North Seattle. The elderly teacher sat curtly with eight children around her, myself included, with a glistening set of table linens, silverware, a plate, cup and glass. Over the next hour she taught us to precisely set the table.
As a child who always wanted to please the adults in my life, I listened attentively and vowed to perfectly align the spoon with the knife, the big fork with the little fork, and fold the napkin tightly, as instructed.
When my turn arrived I took my time making sure that everything inch of the setting was perfect. I had watched the mistakes of my classmates and made mental notes of how I could do it better. Indeed I had accomplished my goal- it was a model of perfection.
When I smiled at the teacher and announced that I was ready for her inspection, she looked at my setting then a frown crossed her face; my smile faded. I looked at my setting, what had I done wrong? I couldn’t find a mistake but knew intrinsically that something was awry.
“This is fine, Kathlyn,” she said, obviously displeased, but now seemingly writing off my error to my tender six years of life instead of a character flaw.
“Your setting is perfect, dear,” she continued, “except it is backwards.” I looked in horror at my setting, then walked slowly back to my seat across the table. Indeed it was upside down, because I was sitting opposite of the instruction, and had reversed every detail. I began to cry. That is my first memory of Sunday school, an upside down world with barren walls and imperfections.
Yet that was the 70’s, a time when children’s programs and Christian education had not grown wings.
When resources were scarce and the priorities of society did not rest with the children.
When modern knowledge of how children learn and dedicated volunteers and leaders were nowhere to be found. Or so I thought.
Fast forward to today. About a month ago I entered the modern church. This church, like many, is now ‘relevant.’ Held in a school instead of a gothic building, it boasts modern worship and catchphrases of the day. Small groups were being formed, mission trips discussed.
The congregation swayed with the electric guitar and tapped their feet to the live drums while sipping on their latte’s wearing comfortable jeans and tennis shoes.
As an adult I have embraced these changes; it certainly is not the damp church lined with pews that I remember. The tired hymns and resonating organ chords are now gone, the lengthy sermons, now cut in half, provide spaces for notes in the program and overhead cues.
It is a relief really, the modern church has learned a lesson or two about attracting adults, but as I hummed to my favorite worship song about how to worship, I looked around the congregation.
The kids sat in their chairs kicking their feet while dully watching the spectacle or they stood clinging to their parents. In a few minutes it would be time for them to depart to their classrooms, but meanwhile they fidgeted and tugged on sleeves, the younger ones crawled under the chairs for entertainment.
Like clockwork, after the first two songs, the pastor welcomed us all and dismissed the children. Some enthusiastically ran towards the exits, others needed the powerful prompting of their parents, but most filed out of the auditorium to the classrooms beyond. The ones that were left were strictly warned to behave and given paper to draw on before they destroyed the program sitting next to them on the chair.
My husband and I went with the departing group, always interested in the inner workings of the Children’s programs in churches. What we found at the end of the long hallway was typical, if not tiring.
Through our travels and various teaching opportunities we have had the pleasure of visiting many churches. As a consultant, educator, and curriculum designer we have also tried to improve the landscape of Christian education, but the reality is that over thirty years has passed and chillingly, my children experience the same cold, unenthusiastic, tired Sunday school of my youth.
At the end of the long corridor, Connor, age seven is met by a friendly but unenthusiastic teacher who neither asks him his name nor his age. She seems completely disinterested in him. During the week she educates middle school students and therefore strictly maintains discipline in her Sunday school class. She instructs him to find a seat at the empty table and directs Kara, age five, to the preschool room. Kara and Connor looked longingly at each other as they part.
Connor slips into a chair alongside a burly, but quiet boy who is staring out the window.
My husband escorts Kara to her room where half a dozen children are sitting on the floor hovering around board books designed for two year olds. She sits down and begins thumbing through a book about ponies.
Back in Connor’s room, his teacher settles into her lesson reaching for an extensive teaching guide. She has her audience repeat the weekly verse three times. Then she reaches for the Bible to read a passage from 1 John before explaining how to create the weekly craft. Connor obeys, but I can tell he is miserable and bored. After the story and craft, the group moves on to the requisite snack of fish crackers and juice, that Connor inhales in a single gulp, before they are allowed to color a picture of Jesus until their parents pick them up.
Kara, meanwhile, has suffered through an equally dull class with little meaning and little interaction.
She enjoyed the craft, but later doesn’t remember the verse or the story.
My son rates his experience as ‘boring’ and ‘bad.’ He has become an outspoken critic of his Sunday classes, complaining about the lack of excitement and games.
Kara, who is more forgiving, reports that she liked the snack and the coloring.
Still in my arms is my one year old daughter who began crying the minute we left the gym and rarely stays in the toddler classroom alone.
Today there is no toddler room and I have spent the past 45 minutes following her up and down the halls outside Connor and Kara’s classes.
My husband and I usually take turns escorting Sophie into toddler rooms. We enjoy playing with the babies and keeping her company instead of allowing her to scream until the attendant can no longer manage her wails. We don’t mind the experience and usually are a welcome addition to the room. While engrossed in cheerios, annoying musical toys and the babble of babies, we chat with the workers and discover many truths about the Sunday experience from their perspective.
Most report, after the small talk dies away, that they feel unprepared for the experience and often overwhelmed. Others tell us, when they get to know us, that they feel unsupported and unrecognized.
Many agonize over the trap of children’s ministries: once you are in, you never leave.
It is depressing to hear the stories and see the worn and tired looks on the faces of the workers.
It is disturbing to see this exact scene played out in church after church, week after week all across the country.
We realize that no church is perfect, but sadly we have also discovered that so many are missing the mark of an effective children’s educational program that it has become an epidemic.
To be blunt and to the point, there is a lack of leadership, enthusiasm, and actual learning taking place in our Sunday school classes. The quality of the experience has hit rock bottom.
Children are not learning; they are being babysat.
Spiritual growth is at a minimum.
Volunteers are undervalued and overworked.
Pastors have no idea what is being taught, or if it is effective.
There is complete apathy in regards to children’s ministry from our congregations, leaders, and parents.
Furthermore, this failure makes no distinction between denominations, size, or gross income of the organization. Stated plainly, it is bad everywhere. If you are denial of this fact, then start shopping for a decent kids program in your own community.
Here’s what you should look for
A. An atmosphere that is kid friendly, inviting, and safe.
B. Consistent teachers who are responsive to their students and familiar with their needs and abilities.
C. Children learn age and ability appropriate lessons that are Bible based and relevant to their lives.
D. Educational practices of repetition, enhancement, and assessment are present.
E. The pastor is aware of what is being taught in the classrooms and its effectiveness.
F. A community of families is present with support and resources.
G. Children are happy, enthusiastic, and hungry to learn about God.
H. Volunteers and leaders feel supported and recognized.

These are time tested, proven educational practices that foster learning and community yet are missing from Sunday school classes across America.
If you need more proof that the Sunday experience is failing our children, then ask them! Take a random sampling this Sunday and see what you find. Do they enjoy going to church? What are they learning? Who are their teachers and how do they like them?
Then talk to your teachers. Who are their students? What are their needs, their strengths, their weaknesses? Do they enjoy teaching the curriculum? Are they passionate about their teaching? What is the spiritual health of the class? Do they enjoy the Sunday experience? How often do they teach? How long have they been teaching?
Still not convinced? Then spend some time in those classes. I often remark that if parents knew what happened down those hallowed halls and behind those closed doors that they would shudder. Sit in on a class, or two, or three. Are you bored? Are the kids bored? How does the teacher relate to your child? What is the program teaching your child? Is it effective Christian education or glorified babysitting?
If you take the time to watch and listen, you will soon understand the state of the Sunday experience.
On this day I leave the school with the photocopied 1950’s picture of Jesus walking on water colored all in pink, as my daughter prefers Jesus in pink, and I am reminded once again that only a complete renovation of the modern Christian church will change the soul of our congregations and the lives of our children.
Yet how can such changes ever appear? We need changes so strong and powerful that the children will race into the arms of their teachers, eagerly memorize and recite Bible verses, enthusiastically proclaim the wonder and grace of Jesus Christ, and grow into amazing Christian adults who love their Savior and one another.
We need an entire paradigm shift in regards to Children’s ministries. This transition would start at the top with pastors, move through the leadership, and permeate the congregation. This shift would involve a modification of priorities for most churches, interconnectedness between all facets of the church experience, and a reallocation of funds and resources.
Is this huge reformation possible? I’m not so sure, but I’m hopeful. There are big and small alterations that would lead to such a reformation, one church at a time. These changes center around these seven principles:

1. Making children and families the priority
2. Create safe, friendly, child centered learning experiences.
3. Teach less; and teach it well.
4. Connect the dots of Christian education- teach the why with the what.
5. Find the passion in teaching and know exactly what you want to teach.
6. Build relationships between teachers and students, parents and child, families and church.
7. Create and support leaders, teachers, and volunteers.

A strong children centered congregation that supports the family, battles the tentacles of secularism, and provides the tools to children to reject the pitfalls of life is possible, but are we brave enough to begin the process.? Are we strong enough to follow through and accept the responsibility? Are we passionate enough to make a difference in the lives of our children and families? I believe we must be passionate, strong, and brave because Christian education is more than pink crayons and placesettings.