Saturday, December 06, 2008

Let the Children Come to Me

There's a strange phenomena that happens in churches that unites new churches, established churches and mega-churches: a high commitment to childrens ministries. Whether that means a simple "Sunday School" or a more recent approach such as "Children's Church" or "Kidzone"-style separate worship services, childrens ministries are often one of the first areas for any church to create, staff and develop. Missional churches do it as a way to attract the coveted "young family" demographic and established churches do it as a way to keep the young families from leaving or coming back after sowing their wild oats.

Childrens ministry, like youth ministry, often receives imperative treatment - we have to have a program for that, we need to develop that ministry, we can't cancel that program this week - and the classic "I think kids are the future of our church" (which everyone says euphorically, as if they were the first person to think of such a concept). There are various childrens ministries issues that could be discussed, but I'd like to try this one on for size: bus ministries can ruin a community.

Now that I've got your attention, [insert rural evangelical church name with bus here], let me explain. A town to the south of us, where I do a significant amount of work, is spiritually dead. But, its a different kind of spiritually dead than you might find in other places. In this city, folks have been inculturated to think that church is for old people and kids. Like King David, we might look aghast and ask "Who did this?" But like David, the finger is pointing back - it was the churches themselves.

Four churches (three Baptist and one Nazarene, though many more around the country are guilty) own buses or vans and participate in what has become a Sunday ritual known the town-over. At 8:30 AM, as if it was a school day, kids are picked up by the van-load and carted off to churches in the countryside where straight-haired, KJV-reading, suit-and-dress-wearing pietists welcome them in with open arms.

Now, this is not necessarily a bad thing. Each of these churches have stellar childrens ministries. They teach Scripture. They disciple children. They report hundreds of "decisions" for Christ annually. By 5 year olds.

What is the net effect? This town is FILLED with former bus kids - former children who made "decisions" for Christ. I don't want to quench the power of the Holy Spirit, but almost church in the town has an average attendance age of 70. Q-Tip churches. I have had dozens of conversations with unchurched adults in that community and, to a person, each one has uttered the same words, "My kids really need to go to church. I don't want to take them, though - do you have a bus ministry? Its really important that they go." Ouch.

But, I'm not leaving you out, mega-churches and trendy evangelicals. How many of your current adult attenders went through a Kidzone-style childrens ministry? If you're like most churches, not many. Mega-churches around the world are beginning to ask themselves if worshipping with all ages might not be such a bad idea. Multi-gen ministry is one of the hottest topics in the church world today. The reason? People are inculturated as worshippers. When they're inculturated to consumer-based childrens ministries, its hard to transition to student ministry worship, even if its also consumer-based. And, its hard to transition students into "adult" worship. At each transition, huge numbers are hemorrhaged.

Children are the future of our Church. Really? Then let's start re-evaluating.

Thursday, December 04, 2008

To Plant or not to Plant

Lately, I've found myself trapped between two worlds within the Christian scene: the established church and the church planting movement. These worlds might not seem to be at odds at first glance, but once you're stuck in the middle - you'll know it.

In an earlier post, I mentioned that I think one of the keys to future leadership in my home denomination was to stop the herding of leaders into either the church planting track or the established church track. Additionally, seminaries need to stop serving one side or the other exclusively, particularly in the practical parts of education.

The deeper reason that this happens, however, is that churches have separated themlseves into these categories, so putting their future leaders into them is important. From that point, established churches can ensure that their future leaders are people they desire and those who are less desirable can be sent to the church planting realm. In a similar way, since the church planting realm doesn't really want those folks who are "tainted" by the established church, so it works out.

But what of those of us who would not want to write off the established church? I had a recent conversation with a graduated seminarian where we lamented the fact that we've been made to feel somehow guilty for wanting to bring change to established churches that makes them more viable. In some ways, we're guilty for not writing off the established church and going into planning and we're guilty for trying to innovation instead of perpetuating the status quo in the established church.

What gives?