During the pandemic, once it was clear there was an ongoing substitute teacher shortage, I signed up. As a pastor I was interested in the gig because it was a form of helping (a little) during a crisis—added bonus, I was able to be in the schools with kids, something I hadn’t been able to do because of quarantine policies (no volunteers or non-staff adults in the buildings).
Yesterday I was at the junior high subbing for a German language class. Late in the day, listening in on a small group discussing their project, a 7th grader said to their peers, “Parody can be political but it isn’t inherently political.”
I’d like to begin this post simply acknowledging that many of our assumptions about the developmental appropriateness of this or that intellectual content is kind of blow out of the water (on the regular) by kids saying these kinds of things. In other words, sometimes I think we’ve hardened our assumptions about developmental stages far past the breaking point, then reified the divisions between the age groups in patterns that are, ultimately, less than helpful.
Perhaps no part of church life is more affected by these assumptions about developmental appropriateness than Christian worship, and the sermon during that worship service in particular.
David Csinos, in his A Gospel for All Ages: Teaching and Preaching With the Whole Church, in his book exploring intergenerational strategies for preaching, writes: “As our group of specialists in intergenerational ministry pored over all the different ways that worship can become intergenerational, one member of the group soberly informed us that despite all the innovative ideas we were tossing around, one part of the worship service remains untouchable.” ‘For some reason,’ he said, ‘we haven’t been able to find any way to make preaching accessible for all ages” (3).
I’ll admit, I myself as a pastor struggle on this point. Currently, our congregation is by design offering “children’s church” during worship, with the kids exiting the sanctuary at the time of the Scripture lessons, joining a developmentally appropriate liturgy and learning time, then returning after the sermon just before Communion. Clearly our practice indicates we believe the sermon isn’t (or at least mostly isn’t) developmentally appropriate for children below a certain age.
I’m not entirely sure what about a sermon is developmentally inappropriate, to be honest. Maybe it’s too long (exceeding what we believe is the attention span of youth), or it’s too intellectual (it’s above their heads). Just anecdotally, when I preach a sermon I’m always surprised by what children pick up from it even when it appears they aren’t paying attention (kids often multi-task); I’m also always surprised by what the adult listeners don’t pick up from it even though they do appear to be paying attention.
Whatever the reasons, I think there is widespread cultural agreement that worship, and the sermon in particular, is simply not designed for the developmental level of children. This is why it’s very popular in evangelical, sermon-focused churches to provide an entirely separate “children’s church” for youth while the adults attend the main service.
In the remainder of this post I’d like to challenge a variety of these assumptions, and think a bit more critically about “intergenerational” worship.
Is it also above the heads of the adults? I think sometimes we overstate the intellectual prowess of adults. In reality, an intellectually stimulating sermon (or any “talk” for that matter) may challenge the comprehension of many if not most adults.1 If that’s the case, why then do we only send the kids off for children’s church. Again, returning to the quote from the 7th grader, “parody can be political but it’s not inherently political,” if that’s a level of analysis a child can offer at a moment’s notice in the heat of dialogue late on a Friday, perhaps most kids are at least capable of understanding quite a bit of most of the sermons preached in North American pulpits. Or at least as capable as the adults.
Do we not want some parts of our life to be truly intellectual? If I’m asked if I could preach a sermon “for the kids,” one part of me balks at this because I think almost all of us desire at least periodically in life to be intellectually challenged, and sermons are one of those rare spaces where this happens. Let’s be honest, only a certain percentage of adults are readers, only some of us read longform essays or subscribe to academic journals—but a lot of us go to church, and look forward to a sermon. This is my primary reason for being reluctant to make sermons “intergenerational”—if the assumption is that we need to “dumb it down.” I think an argument could equally be made that many sermons fail because they aren’t cognitively challenging enough. Additionally, if we take Scripture as the basis for preaching, then sermons should or can be as intellectually challenging as the written text on which they are predicated, which means at least some of the time shouldn’t a sermon be as difficult to understanding as Romans 9-11?
Are our assumptions about childhood developmental stages built on capitalist marketing? David Csinos points out that the concept of the toddler (and now more recently the tween and young adult) were rolled out by toy-makers and other companies to introduce a planned obsolescence into more of their products. Max out the toy market for children in general—voila, create a whole new category of child and sell toys just for them that are only used for a couple of years before the kids “age out.” At the very least, we might want to ask ourselves whether the church wants to design faith formation strategies predicated on this planned obsolescence model developed by marketers.
If we imagine intergenerational sermons as an alternative to word-based sermons, is something lost? When intergenerational theorists proposed alternatives to traditional preaching, they often propose interactive projects or other tactics that gesture at a general idea but with less of the developed conceptualization of a logo-centric sermon. Nothing wrong with this, but there is a big difference between handing everyone a potted plant and reminding them that God plants the word in various kinds of soil, versus an exegetical sermon that digs into the text of Scripture itself and performs its thoughts.
That being said, perhaps the real argument here is for preaching over time to include many different approaches that engage different modes and learning styles, including sermons that are emotional, or cognitive, or kinetic, interactive, etc. over time.
Our ideas about what is appropriate for children has changed greatly compared to the historical context. For example, we can assume kids were “around” during Jesus’ preaching because at various points they end up being a point of discussion (Matthew 19:14)… or they provide the bread and fish (John 6:8) or they fall asleep and fall out the window (Acts 20:9). These big stadiums full of adults listening to popular preachers while the kids are off elsewhere aren’t really modeling what we see repeated in Scripture, that the kids were not only around, but centered and even serving the meal.
The most radical shift we’ve made in our worship life is to watch for what the kids step up and want to do in worship, and then have them do it. Our weekly communion is served almost exclusively by children. I have a feeling if we opened other parts of worship up to impromptu leadership by youth, they might rush forward for those roles also (reading Scripture, praying prayers, etc.). Educators often talk about the overt vs. the null curriculum in various contexts. To what extent do we have lessened child participation in worship, plus assumptions that worship isn’t developmentally appropriate, mostly because the null curriculum has been that worship really isn’t for youth but something to be endured as they sit on the side.
Maybe it’s just not interesting to the kids. I’ve got to admit that this is true about many topics. Kids are interested in different things than adults. We play different games, read different books, find different parts of the news fascinating, following different social media platforms. It’s very possible, really it’s likely, that kids check out during sermons not because the sermon is above their heads but because it’s not interesting to them. But, going back to the adults, that’s also true for many adults. So the issue is less a developmental one and more related to audience and voice. If the preacher speaks about something that matters to children, even the littlest among us suddenly stand up from the pews like deer seeing headlights, and they clue in.
Csinos in his book offers a provocative thesis: “The intergenerational church is one that actively nurtures a space in which ‘there is mutuality, equality, and reciprocity that makes individual or collective transformation more likely” (20).
I don’t think we’ve sorted out how to do mutuality, equality and reciprocity among the generations very well in church yet. Instead we’ve taken our cues from the wider culture that likes to separate the age groups at school, in sports and clubs, and so many other spaces. I think the way forward may be to radically re-assess and begin operating as if the core practices of the church are truly for everyone.
What’s a sermon that practices mutuality, equality and reciprocity like, especially as regards the generations?
One final thought: I believe there is a certain level of reluctance among some Christians not to “proselytize” their own children. There is a lot of wisdom in this post-colonially inspired sensibility, because many of us have seen the harm that comes from indoctrination. However, the alternative probably can’t or shouldn’t be an entirely hands-off approach, as if by avoiding faith formation altogether with our children they’ll just naturally rummage around and find the best stuff for themselves: this is actually a recipe for a similar level of indoctrination because there are many systems out there that are as interested in, and as good at, proselytization, as the kinds of Christian fundamentalism many of us seek to avoid.
This is why taking an intentional approach to faith formation with youth that is informed but not passive is so much more preferable, while also difficult. We have lacked models for formation together in intergenerational community that are truly mutual equal, and reciprocal… but that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t be tried.
No, in the same way we are continually unlearning hierarchical approaches to care in community and struggling toward mutual aid, the same holds true for preaching and sermons. We can try things. And like in mutual aid, this probably begins with asking ourselves what children really have to give and making space for it to be offered, and asking ourselves what we need, and be willing to acknowledge it.
And if I’m really honest sometimes a sermon even exceeds my own intellectual abilities, which means its incomprehensibility is related to my not yet having fully struggled through the intellectual challenges implicit in the topic. In other words the topic isn’t inherently challenging, it’s just I’ve made it so through my own failure to communicate clearly.
I don’t have solutions so much as an admission: church is difficult for mothers/default parents/primary caregivers. Gathering up reluctant children who would rather play or climb or run or otherwise be entertained to go somewhere that is clearly for their adult caregivers is an emotionally and sometimes physically exhausting task. I completely agree with you that it’s not due to lack of cognitive development that sermons don’t “land” with children. My 6-year-old is deeply perceptive, and Bible stories, sermons, and worship times stay with him. It’s quite remarkable to witness. My 4-year-old also retains a lot. But during traditional church services, the challenge is THEIR bodies and MY patience and self-consciousness. If I were to allow them the space to be children and roam about the sanctuary, I would feel the weight of social pressure and judgment for my permissive parenting. I cringe at just the idea of it. I know this is largely due to my own strict upbringing in an authoritarian home and religion where disruptive children and their parents would be viewed as irreverent; however, I still hesitate to “ruin” others’ church experience by letting my children be children during designated times for worship. Sorry this ended up being rant-y and not at all constructive!
I’m coming from an older congregant’s perspective when being in a church service is all inclusive, the music, the sermon, communion and the people around me. I’m 86 and have been a Lutheran all my life. I was expected to sit quietly, listen and never be disruptive. When my 3 children attended church with my husband and me, the same thing was expected of them until they were in Junior High school and were allowed to sit with a friend in the balcony. When we were first allowed to worship in the sanctuary at GSLC, a family who sat in front of us had 3 children and the boy who was possibly 8, was an artist who drew some interesting designs. I miss seeing him do that but understand that Children’s Church is probably more to his liking. Hearing the sermon and Lectors is always a challenge for my husband and me but very important as in integral part of worship so we glean what we can and are thankful for the opportunity to do so. Our former church in Denver was very organized where you signed up to be an usher, Lector, communion assistant, greeter etc. so we’re trying to adapt to the less formal way of the service here and appreciate the children who seem eager to serve in many ways, rather refreshing.