Our society had become more and more hostile toward children. Their presence is frowned upon at social engagements, in restaurants, and even at our local dog parks (another story for another time), where the ‘dog’ has taken the place of children as the most important member of the household. However, we have come to a pretty pathetic place when they are not welcome in our churches.
Last week, my family and I attended a midweek study at a local church. The service’s for this month had been greatly advertised, and many people were urged to attend, as the topic was to be about “Depression.” We were excited to hear the discussion that night, and in a mad flurry we left the house for the church. Unfortunately, we arrived a few minutes late, so Justin decided to park the car and I took the kids to their classes before joining him in the sanctuary.
I was rather surprised when the nursery doors were not only closed, but also locked. When I knocked at the door, I could see through the glass that there were three women working and probably six children under 2 years present. I couldn’t understand why the atmosphere was so unwelcome. After all, my husband and I had ran the nursery at our previous church and sometimes had up to 10 children between the two of us. The women who answered the door was frazzled and unfriendly. She rather abruptly told me that they would be taking no more children. I was rather shocked. Well, she said, there is only the three of us, so we aren’t taking any more children.
I left bewildered and feeling rebuffed. Even on a bad day, the people in charge of the nursery should present a smile. I wandered out into the parking lot to look for Justin. While I was there, I ran into a church usher. I told him that they wouldn’t take my baby in the nursery. He told me I might bring my daughter into the balcony of the service as long as she was quite. Anyone with young children knows that an 18-month old can’t be completely quiet for two years. I said we would probably have to leave. He just nodded and smiled.
When I found Justin in the last row of the sanctuary, they were still playing worship. I whispered to him what happened, but he said he would like to try and stay and see how Noelle did. She sat bedside us on the pew, eating the Kix I had brought for her, being a good, quite girl, and swaying to the music.
We hadn’t been there for longer than two songs, when a smiling usher came up to us from behind.
“You do know that our policy is, that at the slightest noise, you will have to take your baby out.” He admonished us with a friendly smile.
I think the disgust in my eyes radiated a little as I responded: “Well, they won’t take her in the nursery.”
“Well, you can take her into the nursing mother’s room,” He cajoled, as thought my daughter was some kind of a disease that must quickly, efficiently, and joyful being removed and silenced.
“She is not nursing, “ I replied coldly.
At this point, his smile faded a little and he answered, “Well, I really hate this part of my job, but it is our policy. You will have to take her out.” He then walked away.
As the reverent congregation continued to worship, my husband and I sat there in stunned silence. They were going to kick my daughter out of church, just because she was 16 pounds, 18 months old, and there was no room for her. Immediately after worship, we got up, picked up our son from his classroom, and left.
I was mad. I don’t suppose there is any way to make a mother angrier than to attack her child. The fact that it came from the church made me even more angry. In a few moments, we started to joke about it, saying that it was good thing we weren’t unbelievers struggling with depression, coming to the service to get help or answers. Can you imagine?
My husband and I are willing to forgive those frazzled and well-meaning brothers and sisters in Christ. However, we couldn’t help wondering that why, instead of insisting that our daughter leave, one of the two usher’s didn’t offer to work in the nursery so that more parents could come to listen, especially in light of the fact that they really advertised this session of sermons. Why not step up the plate, instead of ushering people out?
I kept thinking about Jesus, and what He would think about the “church policy”. I have long detested the policies of well-meaning churches that seek to keep children in their “appropriate” classes, and refuse them access to worship with their parents. The church has no place to override a family’s decision to worship God. If you want to place our children in a class, wonderful! If you want to keep them with you, as long as they aren’t screaming (and after all, how many of you parents would really sit in a service with a screaming baby? I’ve never seen anyone!), wonderful! Why shouldn’t children learn about worship from their parents?
Jesus’ disciples were in a hurry to remove the children from His presence. They were probably concerned about the little noises that they made, and how it would affect others listening. Jesus had some pretty strong words for them about children’s place in the kingdom of heaven. I wonder what He thinks about this church, and so many others like it, that are so concerned over the welfare of the ninety-nine, that they cast out one. If I remember correctly, I think Jesus talked about going after the one, even at the expense of the ninety-nine. He also said something about millstones around the necks of drowning men: men who caused little ones to stumble.
Heaven forbid little children should come to church! After all, there’s “no room at this inn.”
