Converting with Kids

What is it like to raise non cradle Catholic kids in a Catholic Church?  In a word: hard. 

We come from large Evangelical churches where there are entire wings dedicated to the care and teaching of kids.  Walls are painted in Biblical scenes scoping from Noah's Ark to the Ascension of Jesus.  Phrases reminding kids of God's love can be found in every classroom, kids praise music is reinforcing the signage, and hundreds of volunteers give their time and energy week after week for the sheer point of sharing Jesus with the smallest among us. 

Fast forward to the typical Catholic church, and even finding the Sunday School is a chore.  There are no painted hallways, no greeters to help usher you and your child into the age appropriate classrooms (mostly because there isn't, such a classroom), and if you are one of the lucky churches that does indeed have a children's program, chances are it appears to be thrown in as a last ditch effort.. obviously not ranking as high as other priorities around the Church.

It's a harsh critique, but it is the honest to goodness feelings of many Evangelicals who are coming to the Catholic Church out of obedience to Christ, and definitely not because of the lure of vibrant children's programs.  We struggled with this for a long time.  We got mad, furious, actually, and for many years although truths seemed to be surfacing about the teachings of the Church, they were squashed when we looked at the four precious lives entrusted to us.  We had heard enough horror stories from dedicated, ex- Catholic now Evangelical friends.  And we had no interest in throwing our kids into a sterile religion that had for decades, failed children. 

Unfortunately, with all of that said, we began to struggle with the Evangelical Church as well. While our kids were attending Sunday School and we attended the adult service, there was never a cohesive message among the kids and parents.  We learned one thing, and the kids learned something entirely different.  And in the craziness of gathering multiple children and making it to the car in one piece after Church, papers would go missing, lessons would be forgotten, and the most depth that we ever got out of what our kids learned consisted of the type of snack eaten and a vague retelling of a Bible story. 

But, Jesus was still preached,  and the hearts of the teachers for the kids was amazing.  To this day, we are incredibly grateful for the volunteers that filled those classrooms week after week, whether our kids remembered them, or not.  And the Catholic Church should, and does, have a lot to learn from them.  Yet, we became Catholic anyway, because again, it was true, and we had to obey.

The beginning days of having kids in the main Mass with us were frustrating to the max.  We left most Sunday's swearing it was the last time we would go, planning on returning the following week to our previous Church.  Kids were restless, eyes were rolling, stink eyes were being shot to and from all family members,  and no amount of reverent worship was happening, at all.  We were still confused on all of meanings of the Mass, and as a result, our kids were even more lost.  They wanted the happy stories and crafts of their previous experience, and we just wanted to be assured that we weren't crushing their faith before they even had a chance to experience it. 

Slowly, over time, I started to gain hope.  I started to see that many of the dedicated adult Catholics who I admired, heard on the radio, and read in books were not all converts.  Many of them had been raised in the very environment I was questioning, and seemed to be living vibrant lives of faith, completely in love with Jesus; actively seeking to be his disciples.  I gained hope when I considered that I had been given a role by the Lord to be the primary Evangelizer to my kids on the love of Jesus,  and that if I was obedient to the His calling, his Grace was strong enough, powerful enough, and vast enough to extend to my kids.  For if it was true, if He really did form one Church, if it was indeed his visible body on earth, then actually the best thing I could ever do for my kids, would be to go; to become one with that Church, and to bring that fullness into the lives of our kids so that they would one day share it with theirs. 

In doing this, we found a way to marry the best of our Evangelical roots with the sacredness of the Mass.  We bought the kids Children's Bibles, and take them every Sunday to Mass.  They each have the same one, so that fights are minimized during the readings.  We try to review the Gospel reading the night before in our family story times so that the kids are already familiar with what they may hear from the Priest.  We ask them to listen for key words, key topics, and reward them with praise and treats after church.  Our pastor once told us that in ancient days, the Jewish Rabbi's would dip the young students fingers in honey while teaching them the Law.  That way, as they grew, the Law would always be associated with sweetness.  It was brilliant, and we have incorporated that practice.  Sunday Mass is followed, always, by a large family brunch, including donuts or some type of yummy goodness.  A child who can control themselves for an hour for love of Jesus can and should be rewarded.  Because Jesus is Love, and to be with Him is to know sweetness and Joy. 

We sit up front, the very first row, actually.  As we learned from the early days that a child who cannot see will not pay attention.  The Mass is brilliantly laced with so many visual delights that a child can't help but be drawn in, if they can see.  Sitting closely to the Priest who lovingly baptized them all, who they know and enjoy, helps them to focus.  Although we fail often, now instead of sending stink eyes for disobedience, we try to calmly show them what they are to be doing.  When we kneel, they kneel.  When it is time to pray, their eyes should be closed.  When it is time to sing, even though all but one cannot read, their fingers are traced along with the words in the song book. 

In a sense, they are learning that to honor Jesus is to participate with his body.  To love him means to put aside immediate desires and quiet hungry bellies because this Jesus who we bow before is worthy of all praise, and all adoration (even we adults struggle to know this many days).  They are learning the correct motions and postures now so that as they gradually learn the depths of the Mass, their bodies will reinforce their hearts.  To kneel is to know ones position before the Lord, to pray is to listen, and to sing is to give due honor. These are things that are learned from doing, not simply by telling.  This is the benefit of getting out of the classroom and into the Mass.  This is where the Mass becomes a brilliant teacher of the reverent Christian life.

I write all of these things not to claim that we have figured it out or that our kids are star Catholics.  Hardly.  This is written from a Mom who just last week scolded her kids because (again), they were climbing on the statues after Mass.  Big No No.  This is written from a Mom who still longs for vibrant children's programs, who is constantly breaking up the daily battles of who called who a mean name, and who has to remind one adorable set of twin boys that crawling under the pews at the conclusion of Mass is not exactly, appropriate. 

This is written by a Mom who wants to encourage parents who may be in the same position that we were two years ago; swearing that they would never successfully be able to sit with their kids in Mass and actually like it, terrified to take them from the warmth of an Evangelical setting to the unknown hour of Sunday Mass.

If I could say any encouragement, it would be to have patience, and be amazed at what God will do with your obedience.  We have learned that our parenting must be more purposeful than ever.  We are constantly teaching our kids Scripture lessons, teaching them about the different aspects of the Mass, and daily proclaiming the love that Christ has for them.  As a result, incredible conversations have been discussed, and we have been blown away by their minds, and the questions which they ask.  We are shocked at some of the theological truths they are grasping, slowly letting stories become concepts, that become exciting realities in which they can confidently place their hope.

The Mass can be difficult to walk in and understand upon first experience, but that does not make it impossible to love.  Our hope is that some day the Catholic Church will be the best place around to bring children to learn the love of Christ.  Perhaps it already is with the fullness of the Eucharist.  We are grateful that our initial frustrations taught us that parenting Christian kids means realizing with holy fear the great responsibility we have been given.  Whether or not they go to Sunday School or listen in a Mass, kids will look to their parents first for guidance and example.  If we vibrantly love Jesus, they will hopefully want to love him too.  For we have been promised: train up our children in the way they should go, and when they are old they will not depart from it. 

Raising a child in a Catholic Mass is hard.  But on many days so too is following Christ.  It means taking up a cross, which embraces hurt and confusion, and completely trusts in the one who carried the ultimate burden.  This is the hope that I have for our Catholic kids.  I will do my best to bring them to the Savior's feet, and may his mighty Will complete the rest.