By “intergenerational worship,” I mean corporate worship that is planned with all generations in mind.

For me, the bottom line is this: If we’re having a gathering of the whole church and a specific population of the church isn’t welcome, or is only welcome for part of it, or is only welcome if they behave in a way that is unlike the way they are in every other setting, then, well, I see a big red flag.

I guess what seems to be required is a decision about what a worship service is, and –at the risk of sounding consumeristic–can provide for the Body of Christ. Sometimes, serving some needs excludes the meeting of others. It seems to me that for
intergenerational worship to work, other structures must be in place to meet needs that might have formerly been met by a worship service.

The first concern many people have is that the developmental needs of children are different than those of adults. Another one is that parents need a break. Many have come to look forward to dropping off their children and having a special adult time of spiritual enrichment. And then of course there’s the silence issue. Many adults find God in the quiet places. And if children are around–especially very young children–it’s not going to be silent.

Although all these concerns are good things to think about, and indeed real needs of real people. But to bring them up as a way to advocate for children to be excluded from worship (even if they’re doing some incredibly developmentally appropriate things while adults finish worshiping) is really missing the point.

It’s a little bit too much like “separate but equal” not too long ago–all sorts of irrelevant arguments were (and still are) made in those cases to justify excluding particular groups–including the “developmentally appropriate” one.

Many of us no doubt grew up going to at least part of the worship service at church. And many of our parents were there the entire time because there were no children’s programs. So, we were included–sort of. We still remember the songs the congregation sang and maybe even the kinds of things that people said from up front.

Unfortunately, we probably also remember having to sit still, consoling ourselves with crayons or a novel, maybe even getting taken out for harsh discipline or (in my case) pinched right then and there for making a peep! No parent I know believes in nor wants to go down that road.

Today, the Holy Spirit is clearly at work to help churches value and respect children in a more holistic way. Children’s ministries are not working–both staff and volunteers are burned out and the percentage of children they serve who don’t return to church as adults keeps growing. At the same time, more and more parents aren’t willing to trudge through, using systems of rewards and punishment to be with children throughout a service that was designed for adults. I feel confident that God will teach us creative ways to be together as the church–ways that will help us genuinely pass down our faith from one generation to another.

After all, worship is caught, not taught. And what could be more at the core of our faith than learning how to worship–not only all the time, whatever we’re doing–but also intentionally and in community.

The use of short and repetitive liturgy, movement, sensory experiences, and storytelling are just a few of the many intergenerational activities that can help us be together for worship.

And there’s a bonus…adults benefit from what helps children learn.

Anyone else have these feelings? Anyone having strong feelings about these ideas? How would you feel if your congregation started planning services with all generations in mind (and didn’t have any sort of childcare while it’s happening)?

Thanks for listening, and thanks in advance for humoring me with your responses.

I was thinking about this and basically Kohn is right. In today’s world “please” doesn’t mean anything. In fact, if anything, we teach it to kids simply as a way of adding emphasis – “pleeeeaaase, mommy” – that it’s the “magic word” which, if they say it, automatically makes it more likely that the adult will have to give in and give them what they want.

However, it wasn’t always like this. At one time saying please had a very specific meaning, and it’s purpose was actually the opposite of manipulating others into doing what you want. Consider the original phrase: “If you please” (from the French, si vous plait) or “if it pleases you”. What does it mean to put an “if you please” on the end of a request? Well, quite literally you are acknowledging the free will of the giver and respecting their right to say no. Rather than simply demanding that another person bend to your will and give you what you (which is how most children have learned to use the word “please”), “if you please” is a way of saying “Listen, only if you want to. You don’t have to and I recognize that I don’t have the right to command you.” In other words, in its original form saying “please” is a sign of respect for the equality and freedom of other people, and a way of recognizing their actions towards you as a gift and not an obligation.

But I doubt that many children these days would understand it as such, and that is our fault as parents as much as anything. How many of us instruct our children on why we say “please” beyond simply telling them that it’s “polite” or that it’s the “magic word”? I know that I hadn’t thought of it in that way before nor presented it that way to my daughter either. But imagine how formative it could be to teach our children to respect others as equals and free agents, and not simply as servants intended to fulfill our every whim. Imagine what it would be like to teach our children to treat receive everything in life as a gift and not simply as an entitlement. Hopefully some of us already are. I know it’s something I want to do better and more consistently. Perhaps explaining the true meaning of “please” is a good place to start.

“The future of our movement may be less in convincing the established system that we are legitimate, and more so in showing our spouses and children that we represent a genuine alternative to the hypocrisy we’re frequently critical of. If emergent really is this generous spirit of change and hope, it should be obvious to our household.” —Zach Roberts