Eat a Car

Children’s Moment has always been one of my favorite parts of the “modern” worship experience. We claim we do them for the children but the truth is we do it for the adults. We love to see the kids in church. It makes us feel good. And, usually, the message given is over the children’s heads but the adults get it. I love them because you never know what is going to happen. Especially when the leader starts asking questions.
 

A few years ago my sister, Kayce, and I attended the funeral of one of our favorite aunts, Aunt Carolyn. Carolyn had been married to my mother’s brother George since the Apostle Paul was a boy. Uncle George was a Baptist preacher and a college professor. Considering those two negatives, Uncle George was a great guy and lots of fun. But he could not hold a candle to Aunt Carolyn. She had a million dollar smile that lit up a room and a personality to go with it. She was an utter joy to be around. She had fun everywhere she went and if she wasn’t having fun, she fooled you into believing she was. One spring Sunday afternoon they showed up at a reception a church was holding for me. Like most church functions I have attended, this one would not be labeled “fun.” George and Carolyn buzzed into the room and soon caught my attention. They seemed to know everyone in the room and also seemed thrilled to see them all. It took them several minutes to circulate to my position. Uncle George shook my hand and explained their presence by telling me that they used to serve the Baptist Church in town and thought it might be fun to drop by. Aunt Carolyn smiled her wonderful smile, warmly embraced me and whispered in my ear, “Aren’t these things just boring as Hell?” She stepped back and smiled. I cracked up.

I tell you all of that so you can better understand my Aunt Carolyn. They started telling “Carolyn” stories at her funeral. One person told of her leading a children’s moment at there huge Baptist Church. She was well into her 80’s and still working with little children in her church. She was preparing to “retire” and move to Florida, so the powers that be asked Caroline to share the children’s message her final Sunday at worship. Like she did everything, she graciously accepted the invitation. They say she came up to the front and sat on the chancel steps. I huge group of preschoolers gathered at her feet and she began to tell a story. The person sharing at the funeral said the children were mesmerized. She was telling a wonderful story that included different voices for different characters. At the end of the story, Aunt Carolyn paused. All of the children (and the congregation) sat, transfixed, waiting to hear the moral of the story. They were doing that because they were veteran church people who knew that all good church stories have morals. Well, Aunt Carolyn smiled her megawatt smile at the group and announced: “Oh, it doesn’t have a moral. It’s just a good story.” The crowd went wild.

Anyway, this Sunday morning the adorable couple who do the children’s moment gathered the children to talk about what they have been learning in Sunday school – which is about the battle of Jericho. So Will warmed the group by asking questions. His first question was, “What is something hard to do?” That got me to thinking. In my younger years things like changing a tire or building a rock wall or shoveling the snow off of our mile long driveway or running five miles or pitching an entire baseball game were pretty challenging. Now things like tying my shoes and changing a light bulb have become hard to do. All of the hands went up and the first kid Will points to says, “Eat a car.” Wow. Why hadn’t I thought of that? On a list of hard things to do, that would have to rank near the top. Like my Aunt Caroline, children’s minds are just more fun than most adult minds. You could have given me a hundred years and I never would have thought of “eat a car.”

I love children’s moment. Since I no longer have a child’s mind enjoy it gives me a chance to look into theirs. And think about eating a car.

Copyright (c) 2014, William T. McConnell, All Rights Reserved