Go the Distance

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After a run in the snow.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy that was set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart. (Hebrews 12.)

I’ve been doing a bit of running.  I started with the Couch to 5k app about a year ago, and now I try to go to my local parkrun* when I can.  I’m very slow, but it turns out that even if you’re slow, it still counts. It’s better than not running.

I don’t know if you’ve ever been to watch a marathon, or any other long distance race.  About ten years ago my parents, husband and I went to watch the Great North Run (a half-marathon) because my brother and his wife were running it.  It’s such a fantastic day out.

There’s something very moving about watching people run and cheering them on.  Many people wear their name on their vest so you can call it out as they run by.  We discovered that one of the best things to shout is, “Keep going, [Dave]!  You’re looking really good!”  It usually made people smile.

We positioned ourselves quite near the end of the race, so some people we saw were really flagging.  And of course, what do you do when you see someone who looks half dead?  You cheer all the louder!  “Come on, keep going!  Don’t give up! You can do this! Not much further!”

I think one of the reasons I got so choked up about all of this was that it brought to mind the fact that the Christian life is like a race.  Scripture mentions this several times.  It’s a race in which everyone who crosses the finish line receives their reward, whether they were elites at the front or power-walkers at the back.

Sometimes we go through seasons in our Christian life when we’re flagging.  We look like we might not even finish.  Sometimes this happens because of big life events, like the birth of our first child, or an illness in the family, or the death of a loved one.  Sometimes it’s caused by other factors.  But at those times, we need encouragement to keep going.  We need our friends to cheer us on and remind us why we’re in this race and what the prize is at the end.

At my local parkrun on Saturday, there was a group who all knew each other from a running club.  Some of them finished fifteen or twenty minutes after others.  But the last ones to finish got the biggest cheer, because in some ways it’s more magnificent when someone who’s struggled more crosses the line.

Think of your friends who have struggled in this Christian race.  The ones who need reminding to come to Bible study, or who need persuading to come to church.  The ones who you’ve spent so much time with explaining the simple gospel over and over again, because that’s what they’ve needed.  The ones who you weren’t sure were going to finish.  How overjoyed will you be to see them cross the finish line!  When you see them in the new creation, won’t you be thrilled that they made it?  And won’t they be thrilled that you didn’t stop cheering them on?

To God be the glory – it’s by His grace we’re saved and begin the race, and by His grace we make it to the Finish.  However, we do also have a responsibility to make it to the finish line, and to help our brothers and sisters to get there, too.  Paul tells us, Run in such a way as to get the prize. 25 Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last; but we do it to get a crown that will last for ever.”  It won’t be easy, but the prize is disproportionately rewarding.

Thinking of his death, Paul wrote: For I am already being poured out like a drink offering, and the time for my departure is near. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day – and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing.

I want to be able to say that at the end: that I’ve kept fighting; kept running; kept believing.  I want to receive that crown, so that I can cast it down before Him, lost in wonder, love and praise.

Let’s not get distracted or held back, by babies or wealth or sin.  Let’s remember that we’re not running aimlessly, but we’re heading for a goal.  Let’s remember that we’re in this race together, and we don’t want anyone to give up.

Keep going, sister.  You’re looking really good.

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“I’m Ungrateful!”

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“That ain’t fair, miss.”

This is one of the most commonly used phrases in the classroom.  Sometimes, when teaching teenagers in East London, I used to respond with a lecture about how they were absolutely right, things aren’t fair because they get an education they don’t have to pay for, in safety and comfort and with all the resources they need, while some children have no opportunity to go to school and have to slave away seven days a week just to survive.  So no, life isn’t fair. As you can imagine, this went down really well.

It doesn’t take long for small children to learn to say “that’s not fair.” Some children I’ve met seem to begin each sentence with this phrase – I’m not sure they’re quite sure they’re even saying it.  But it’s not just children.  Of course, they’re only expressing an attitude which many of us, as adults, still have.  We might not say that same phrase as much, but we might harbour resentments or appeal for sympathy because we, deep down, feel that things are not fair.  “I’m fine, it’s just really hard because, you know, I don’t have a tumble dryer.” Or “It’d just be much easier if I had a car, that’s all.” Or “That’s good advice but I can’t do that because I don’t have the time/space/money/figure/teeth.”  Poor me.

In our home we’re not allowed to say “that’s not fair.” Of course, people do say it, but I won’t just let that go unchecked.  (There is, of course, a way to say “that’s not fair” and not be whinging, but I’ve never heard my children use it that way.  When they say “that’s not fair”, what I hear is, “I’m ungrateful.”) Instead of being thankful for what they have, they’re looking at what someone else has or what they feel they deserve, and being discontent with their own lot. When I hear them say, “that’s not fair,” I try to have them rephrase it and apologise, e.g.

“No you can’t have another biscuit.”
“That’s not fair!”
“What you mean is, ‘I’m ungrateful that I got to have one biscuit.’ What do you need to say?”
“Sorry that I’m ungrateful that I got to have one biscuit.”

I’m sure you can find many flaws with this approach, but hopefully it’ll go some way to showing the children that nothing good (not even a biscuit) can be gained by being ungrateful and discontent.  Lord, may they not become “that ain’t fair, miss” teenagers.

During Lent I’m reading through Proverbs and also The Way of Wisdom by Timothy Keller.  There’s a lot in Proverbs about envy:

Do not gloat when your enemy falls;
    when they stumble, do not let your heart rejoice,
or the Lord will see and disapprove
    and turn his wrath away from them. (Proverbs 24.17-18)

Keller writes about the German word Schadenfreude, which means joy in someone else’s sorrow/shame.  You know, like tabloid newspapers? But it’s a problem we all have in our hearts at times.  We might not want to be, but we’re secretly pleased when something finally goes wrong for someone.  Or there’s the opposite, which is secretly being upset when someone else does well.  What ugliness.

When I envy my friend’s gifts, house, cooking skills, church community, success at work etc. I’m actually being really unloving towards her.  Do I get that?  I know how it feels to be on the receiving end of envy.  If you envy me because I can go on a super duper holiday, for example, you’re essentially saying that you wish I didn’t have that blessing.   (And by the way, isn’t Social Media the perfect breeding ground for envy?)

That’s not love.

A heart at peace gives life to the body,
    but envy rots the bones. Proverbs 14:30.

A heart at peace is thankful to God.  Comparisons and envy will destroy me.  As Keller said, ‘envy is being unhappy at other people’s happiness.’  How horrifying!  I think we know this is bad, but it’s good to be reminded.  I also think that we don’t recognise this very well in children.  Envy becomes an accepted part of life, and we can even plan things around it.  We don’t challenge the child who says, “How come she gets to go there/do that, I’ve never been/done it, it’s not fair!” Or we even withhold good things from one child because we know the others will be envious. “I can’t let them go to that party/have that free drama class because it wouldn’t be fair on the others” (i.e. the others would have a tantrum about how unfair everything is).  When they’re crying over someone else’s birthday presents we try to placate them by saying, “Oh well I’m sure you’ll get something nice for your birthday.”

“It’s only natural they should be envious,” we say.  It is natural, but that doesn’t make it acceptable.  As Christians, we wage war against our natural, sinful natures.  Instead, we can encourage them to be thankful for their brother or sister’s joy and success, and we can remind them of everything they have to thank God for.  If we train them early, what a blessing it will be for them later in life if they’ve learnt to be thankful for God’s grace in the lives of others.

For more on comparisons, please see here and here.

When Snow Happens

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To humans belong the plans of the heart,
but from the Lord comes the proper answer of the tongue.
All a person’s ways seem pure to them,
but motives are weighed by the Lord.
Commit to the Lord whatever you do,
and he will establish your plans…
In their hearts humans plan their course,
but the Lord establishes their steps.
(Proverbs 16)

It snowed here.  If you live in the U.K., you’ll have experienced snow this week. If you live somewhere else, you’ve probably seen it on the international news. I love snow, and living in central London we usually get short-changed on the snow. I’d have liked more.  They cancelled the parkrun in Fulham, but that’s the only difference it really made to me. My brother, however, lives in Glasgow which has ground to a halt. Only Morisson’s soldiered on.  The shelves soon emptied.

I know this chaos is the cause of much amusement for Scandinavians and Canadians and any other nation who has enough snow ploughs.  But the truth is, we’re ill-equipped and so the snow does make things rather unusual. And it’s no laughing matter for people stranded in their cars on a motorway in Scotland.

Besides any actual risk to life, though, I actually like the chaos. Usually I love order (quite an affliction for a mother of four), but when all plans have to be changed because of the weather, it’s a wonderful reminder of one truth we usually ignore: we mere mortals are not in control.

We think we can control everything: what’s on TV,  what food we eat, what school our children go to, where we live, how healthy we are, how many children we have, how long our journey will be, how successful we are etc. You only have to look at how stressed people get when they lose control of one of these things, to see how much we love control. In about 6 weeks’ time parents in England will find out which primary school their children have got into, and the news headlines will show outrage and panic as parents lament over their school place, despite having moved house and gone to church for 3 years just to get into St Juniper’s because it’s Outstanding. We do not like being reminded that we’re not in control. We do not like being reminded that we’re not God.

Don’t get me wrong, I find this challenging. There are plenty of things I try to control, and I get irrationally upset when I can’t. Sometimes the things we want to control are good things, like wanting our children to follow Jesus. Or even just wanting this meal to be a blessing and taste good. But my loving Heavenly Father does like to remind me that I’m not in control. He’s teaching me to trust him, to hold my hands up and say, “You’re in charge, and that’s a good thing!”

If it’s a blessing to be reminded that God is the one in control, then this is certainly a major bonus of parenting. If anyone can ruin your plans, it’s a wilful child. Sometimes through no decision of their own, but often deliberately, they don’t fit into my neat plan. Before you have children, you can plan how many motorway stops you’re going to have on a long journey. You’d never dream of a toilet break 15 minutes before reaching your destination.

I remember trying to go out and meet Mike one day when I was about 37 weeks pregnant with number 2, and number 1 was 18 months old. I physically couldn’t get her into the pushchair, partly hindered of course by my enormous mass. I had to phone him and say I didn’t think I could go out. That was a low point. Plans thwarted by a very small, tantrumy toddler.

We might plan our career out and then find that our child needs more care than we’d expected. We might plan where to live and then discover we’re expecting twins. We might look forward to cycling holidays and then discover our child refuses to learn to balance on two wheels. Or their obsession with dinosaurs means that museum trips will be more enjoyable. We hoped they’d come to watch football with us and it turns out they don’t like crowds, or football, or Middlesbrough FC.

Im so grateful that in the major, life changing things and in the small irritating things of life, The Lord not only sees it coming but has planned it all out from the very beginning.  He is truly awesome.

Oh Lord, establish my steps. Amen.

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No Babyccino

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A belated Happy New Year to you all! I’m not sure what happened to January. Let’s move on.

We live in Chelsea. It’s strange but it’s true. I grew up in an industrial town in the North East of England. Occasionally my children say things now which make me shudder slightly, such as:

“Mummy can we get some avocados?”

“Mummy can I have a babyccino?”

“I’m going for Chelsea FC.”

“Look, we’re nearly at Raffles!”

(If you’re not sure what Raffles is, it’s just a fancy night club which celebrities frequent. We went there once, but that’s a story for another day.)

Babyccinos are the sort of thing I would scoff and roll my eyes at before my children started drinking them. How pretentious! But one day I just gave in. Although they are just another way of trying to make children look like absurdly small grown-ups, they do have this going for them – they’re free. In some places, anyway. They’re also just frothy milk, so it’s not doing anyone any harm, unless you count my pride.

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Now the thing about a babyccino is, it’s not actually a small cappuccino. It looks like one, so the kiddywinks feel grown up, but it doesn’t taste like one. It won’t make them like cappuccinos when they’re older. It’ll have no bearing on their taste for coffee. And that’s fine, because I have no desire to instill in them a love for coffee.

Sometimes, the Christian input children get can be a bit like a babyccino. It looks like discipleship, so it can make them look like Christians, but when they get older they’ll have no taste for the real Jesus.

For example, when I was at my CofE Primary School, we learnt to say “grace” before lunch. The prayer was “For these, and all Thy many gifts, we give Thee thanks our Lord, Amen.” Nothing wrong with that, although why the “thee” and “thy” I’ve no idea. I wasn’t at Primary School in the 19th Century.  But I never, not once, actually thought about what I was saying. I used to say, “FORTHESEANDALLTHYMANYGIFTSWEGIVETHEETHANKSOURLORDAMEN!” The faster the better. I may as well have prayed it in Latin for all the meaning it had to me. It was a babyccino prayer. Once I grew out of saying it, I did not thank God for my food because I wasn’t thankful to Him.

Sometimes at church we can fall into the trap of making it look like the children have learnt something in crèche or Sunday School, when in fact nothing has gone in. They emerge with a beautiful craft about how Jesus Loves Me, or I’m a sheep, or A fish swallowed Jonah, but it’s just froth. The children haven’t actually heard God speak to them through his Word, by the Holy Spirit. But the parents are happy (for now), because their children look like Christians. (I’m really thankful that my children emerge from Sunday School usually craftless, having gotten to know God better through his Word.)

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At home, we parents should be the ones bringing up our children in the training and instruction of the Lord. This is hard work, long term and messy. It requires prayer and huge dependence on God. Often it’s so tempting to settle for making them look and act like Chrisitans, rather than actually discipling them. Of course, only the Holy Spirit can give them new life and change their hearts, so we need to depend on His grace. But if I’m not looking at the attitudes of my children’s hearts, and instead simply dealing with their behaviour and habits, then when they’re older they’re no more likely to love Jesus than if they’d never had the babyccino Christianity I’ve been serving them for 16 years. In fact, I might have put them off him forever. They might be able to rattle off the Ten Commandments, or the Lord’s Prayer, and they might be on the serving rota at church. But hand them a cappuccino and they’ll say it just tastes bitter. They’ll opt for something else instead.

I do (really, really) want my children to behave nicely in church. I want them to know the right answers in Sunday School. I want them to be kind and have good manners. If you met them, you might not be able to tell any of that, by the way. However, what I want more than those things is that they would genuinely love the Lord Jesus Christ, and that they’d know how desperately they need God’s grace. Sometimes they won’t look like little Christians, because real discipleship is messy. But I’ll keep trying to remember not to opt for the easier, neater, babyccino version of bringing them up in the training and discipline of the Lord.

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Thanks for Coming

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Christmas is so messy.

I’ll let you into a (non)secret: I’m not so good at housework.  Right now I’m supposed to be cleaning, but as you can see, I’m not.  And at Christmas, there’s more stuff around, plus there’s more stuff to do which in this home takes priority over housework.  So our already-not-exactly-neat home is now even more messy.  It’s littered with Christmas crafts, envelopes, scraps of wrapping paper and ribbon, and pine needles.  Yesterday I had several ribbons sellotape to the sole of my slipper for longer than is reasonable before I addressed the issue.

It’s messy in other ways too.  Around about mid October I begin to dread the Christmas fair.  This year it lived up to my dire expectations, once again.  It’s not that I disagree with it in principle, but rather it is too overwhelming for me and my kin.  We cannot cope with it at all.  This year, only half of my children cried throughout.  I left in such a hurry that when I realised we had one toddler welly missing, I refused to go back in.  “I’ll buy new wellies if I have to!” said I.

Here is a text I sent a friend the week before the Christmas fair:

“This week we had to bring in a cup of sweets each on Monday, email the school some photos of us doing some ‘extreme reading’ (but safely), bring in some bread from our culture tomorrow and a gift for the school fair, wearing our own clothes, on Friday… I’m always aware it would be less mad if I only had 1 or 2 children at school, so it’s not really the school’s fault.  Plus it’s fun.  Although the other parents seem confused too.  ‘This time do we wrap it? Do they wear spots? Have I missed the shoe box deadline?’ (yes)…”

I will inevitably drop several balls in December.  Last week I was supposed to watch my daughter’s gymnastics assessment, but I forgot.  She was very gracious about it, but it didn’t feel good.  I wonder what I’ll forget to do this week.  Hopefully nothing life-threatening or childhood-scarring.  And my poor husband is bombarded with crazy text messages as I try to get him to help me to remember everything.

However, the biggest mess I see at Christmas, as I experience this pressure-cooker of festivity and reflect on the year gone by, is in my own heart.  I’m still selfish, I’m still trying to be self-sufficient, I’m still self-centred.  God is changing me, by his grace.  But folks, progress is slow.

And yet, God himself came down to meet me in this mess.

The tragedy of carol services is how overfamiliar we become with the awesome words of Scripture.  I mean, just look at this:

20 But after he had considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, ‘Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. 21 She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus,[f] because he will save his people from their sins.’

22 All this took place to fulfil what the Lord had said through the prophet: 23 ‘The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel’[g](which means ‘God with us’). (Matthew 1)

He came down to save us from our sins.  To deal with our mess.  He came to be with us.  I don’t deserve that, but oh how I need it.

Thank you, thank you, thank you Jesus.  Thank you for coming.

One True Christmas Gift

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Christmas is round the corner and we all know what that means.  There is a stereotype of a busy mum at Christmas, and I don’t know about you but I find that I am that stereotype.  I love Christmas – did I mention that? – but let’s face it, it’s a crazy time.  It’s a time when I make crazy decisions and I overreach to new and surprising heights.

Advent is a time when we feel pulled in several directions all at once.  There are children’s parties and grown-up parties (which non-parents just call parties), church outreach events, church social events, Christmas shopping, over-excited children, gift wrapping, travel, relatives, Christmas cards, sometimes Birthdays (e.g. mine), Secret Santas, school performances, more baking than usual and (we hope not but maybe) the occasional bout of flu.

So at this busy time, when we can become so much like Martha of Bethany, rushing around in a sweat and scowling because nobody is helping, it’s all-the-more important that we try to be like Mary, who sat at the feet of Jesus and listened to him – I assume it’s not just me.

There are many resources around to help us meditate on the Lord Jesus during the Christmas period, and I wanted to recommend this one to you – One True Gift – as it’s new and it’s a little bit different.  Sometimes a different angle can help us to refocus.

It’s by Tim Chester, who I think is brilliant.  If you haven’t read Total Church, which is now really old, then please do.  You don’t have time now, but maybe in January.  I really enjoyed reading his Advent devotion in John’s gospel, One True Light a couple of years ago.  He’s a good man and he communicates the gospel in a down-to-earth way, which is very helpful when you’re knee-deep in overambitious Christmas crafts.

The thing that makes this book a bit surprising is that it’s a 24-day meditation on Philippians 2, which isn’t usually seen as a festive passage of Scripture.  But since it’s about the Son of God coming to earth as a human baby, who would grow up to serve and even to die, and is therefore now raised up to the highest place from which he’ll return one day to judge the world, there are plenty of good reasons to meditate on this passage in the run up to the celebration of the astonishing and marvellous incarnation.

So while I’m doing my worst Martha impression in the run up to Christmas, here are three ways in which, by God’s grace, I expect this book will help me:

I’ll be rebuked by Jesus the servant:
“‘I’m willing to serve,’ we might say, ‘but not that person – not after the way they’ve treated me.’ Yet Jesus washes the feet of Judas knowing that Judas already has 30 pieces of silver jangling in his wallet.” (p. 47)
Jesus is my example to learn from and to follow.

I’ll be encouraged by the love of Jesus.
“Jesus died for your sins.  When he hears you grumbling and arguing, he didn’t turn away in disgust.  In his love he turned towards the cross, arms opened wide to take the nails.  And now in his love he turns towards you, arms opened wide to embrace you.” p. 77.
Jesus is my Saviour to love and to trust.

I’ll be awestruck by the incarnation:
“we are left with this conclusion: the baby in the manger is none other than the LORD, the covenant God of Israel, the Creator, the one, true God.” (p. 41)
Jesus is my Lord to praise and to worship. 

If you don’t buy this book, I do hope you’ll find another way to make sure you’re feeding on God’s word each day this advent, so that your acts of service and good works are done for Him, our Saviour and Lord and the true star of every show.  This book is very accessible, so I’d recommend giving it as an early Christmas gift to a friend or your mum, or anyone you think might be willing to take a closer look at Jesus this Christmas.  You can buy it here from the Good Book Company.

How to fear God and love children

Does it really matter what children do in Sunday School?

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This week we’re celebrating 500 years since the Reformation in Europe – a time when big changes occurred in the church in order to get vernacular Bibles into the hands of people who’d never understood the Bible before.  They’d been going to church all their lives without understanding a word of what was said, and they’d hoped they were good enough because they’d tried to follow the rules the church had set out for them, and they’d picked up on some Bible themes from the stained glass windows.  Their actions gave them a Christian appearance, regardless of any understanding of the gospel.  This is a very brief and inadequate description but this isn’t actually a post about the Reformation.

I’ve been thinking about children’s work in churches (although most of what I will write also applies to teaching our children at home).  I’ve noticed that sometimes the way children’s work is done bears some resemblance to this pre-Reformation religion.  Sometimes children’s work is done more for appearances than for any actual spiritual benefit.  Children hear a story and/or do an activity, and probably come away with tangible evidence, e.g. a craft.  But this is mostly done to show others that the children are participating in the church service, and they’re learning Christian stuff.

These children come out of creche or Sunday school with a lovely craft, but with no relationship with God.  They have learnt some Christian morals, but they have no knowledge of the Word of God.  They have been shown role models, but they haven’t encountered the gracious God of the Bible.  (I think the role model topic might be another blog post in itself.)

Why does this happen? Maybe it’s because it’s the easy option.  But I can also think of two beliefs behind this way of doing things:

  1. Christian children are nice and well behaved.  Therefore, it’s good if children come to church every week, because we all want nice and well behaved children in our community, don’t we?
  2. Children can’t really get to know the living God who’s revealed himself to us through his Word.  After all, they’re only little.  They can’t even tie their shoelaces!  How can they be expected to understand doctrine? Let’s be realistic.

I guess there are many ways I could argue against these two points.  As usual, I’ll come back to Deuteronomy 6.  You need to read the whole chapter really but here’s one extract:

Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one.[a] Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. These commandments that I give you today are to be on your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. 

The Lord has always commanded his people to teach their children about him, so that they’ll know who they are and what the Lord has done for his people.  For us New Covenant believers, we don’t just need to teach them about a rescue from slavery in Egypt, but also (and ultimately) about our rescue from slavery to sin, through our Saviour Jesus Christ.  And a Saviour is what we all need:

“And if we are careful to obey all this law before the Lord our God, as he has commanded us, that will be our righteousness.” (Deut 6 v25)

Like the Israelites, we are unable to keep the law, and so we need a righteousness from God that is by faith from first to last. (Romans 1:17).  We desperately need Christ’s righteousness, and to stop trying to rely on our own good behaviour.  So why on earth would we think that what children really need most is to be well behaved?

And why would we think that they can’t have a relationship with the Lord?  In order to think that, you need to ignore all of the commands God gives to teach children his word (e.g. Psalm 74:5-6) plus what Jesus commanded about letting children come to him, plus just common sense.  Does a child know his/her mum and dad?  Do they know their siblings, their grandma, their neighbour?  Do they know their Sunday school teacher?  So why can’t they know Jesus?  Is he not real? Knowing the Lord is what they were made for.  Of course I know that their understanding of things will be different to ours (although don’t forget Jesus told us to learn from them (Matthew 18:3), but teach a group of children for a period of time and you’ll see some of them relating to their God.  Hopefully this relationship will lead to good behaviour (that’s certainly what I’m praying for my children!), but good behaviour without a changed heart is just a veneer.  Let our creche not be a Pharisee factory, because I’m quite sure Jesus wasn’t impressed by the Pharisees.

If you’re teaching creche or Sunday School, your responsibility is not to churn out well-mannered children who can tell you who Moses and Jonah are: it’s to faithfully teach God’s word to them, and to pray for their souls.  Don’t underestimate that responsibility.  These people are made in God’s image, and their precious.  If we fear God, we should teach his word with reverence to him.  And if your church isn’t doing this, then I would urge you to remedy that, even if it means you have to take charge of it (I know, as if you haven’t got enough to do).

Can I just say that I help run the creche in my church, and we do want the children to behave well, plus they do crafts, so I hope it’s clear that I’m not saying those things aren’t good.  But they’re really not the point of us all being there.  If we really believe in the power of God to speak to us by his Spirit through His word, regarding his Son our Saviour, then we’ll believe that for our children, too.  I hope you can see how this links to what I wrote at the top about the Reformation. Let’s do children’s work the great Reformers would be pleased to see.  We have the Bible in their language, so let’s not just show the kids some pictures and send them away thinking that all they need to do is try their best to be good.

And if you read this and feel encouraged that the children’s work in your church is good, maybe you could encourage the leaders this week, and thank them for faithfully doing the Lord’s work.

 

This reminds me of a post I wrote a long time ago called Hearts Not Garments.