Full Participants
Reflection Roundup reports from conversations couched in relationships. Here, readers will find boots-on-the-ground and “live from the field” items important to Christian leaders. As always, listening broadly draws together differing perspectives from which we can learn but with which we may not concur. This month’s post contains a story about a young lady at my church who serves at the Lord’s Table regularly and exemplifies what is best about intergenerational ministry. Her boots are on the ground, a younger one leading those older.
As I have concluded my journey as a DMin student at ACU and emerged from intense focus on creating space for intergenerational relationships and ministry partnerships in my church, my vision has been refined. “That on which a person sets focus, expands” is a beautiful truth in this case. In examining, exploring, and maximizing generational connections, I’ve noticed even more than before.
Another salient fact remains. Churches have internal areas that function as “neighborhoods.” We “regulars” notice this most strongly when, on any given Sunday, we might come into worship and find someone unknowingly sitting in “our” seat. Gasp! We might find this annoying, but this reality is part of what gave me the vision to accept a role among our eldership. The “neighborhood” in which I sit at church with my husband includes two young families whose daughters make up the third generation of my “why.” It is, in part, for them that I chose to step into my place. It is much easier for a person to imagine themselves leading in both big and small ways after having a model. This is part of why I said “yes” and remain in the “neighborhood.”
Matilda sits behind me with her family and is one of several children her grandfather has organized into a communion-serving team. Together they cover an entire month in rotation; one child partners with granddad each week. One Sunday close to Christmas, it was Matilda’s turn, and grandad was sick and unable to come to church. Matilda’s parents wisely gave her the choice of how to handle the need for a partner, and Matilda asked her mom to help. “Fine,” her mom agreed, “but you are going to have to show me what to do.” In our interview last week, Matilda reflected on this day and said, “Yeah, she really didn’t know what to do!”
People know the “communion choreography” in their churches. It is one of those things, “if you know, you know.” There is a rhythm, a give-and-take, and it is definitely not something a person can jump into without a little coaching. Matilda is a great coach, but what is really going on here?
Social learning theorist Etienne Wenger provides a phrase he coined alongside social anthropologist Jean Lave: “communities of practice.”[1] His research examines the fact that, rather than being a largely individual enterprise, learning is social. It is embedded in daily living. While teaching is important, authentic learning comes about largely through participation. Though Wenger’s case studies lie largely in a variety of secular settings, the truth revealed translates to all aspects of life, from health communities to government and business settings. Think about it: kids who pretend to be doctors fulfill residencies and become those who care for people when they are sick. High school students participate in “model” United Nations assemblies and learn civil discourse. Budding entrepreneurs and artists of all varieties first serve as interns.
Holly Catterton Allen applies Wenger’s research to communities of faith, layering the sacred with the secular in a way that reflects the holistic nature of Christian life. Allen says full participation on the part of all stakeholders provides a “home for identity.”[2] “When one’s primary community of practice becomes one’s home for identity, a profound sense of belonging results.”[3]
But some would say that they are ‘“just children.”
Nathan Pickard offers a helpful reminder of Restoration history, a narrative in which these instincts can be located.[4] In Alexander Campbell’s written descriptions of worship at his early nineteenth century Ohio church, he includes a communion service in which everything is done “decently and in order.” Pickard unpacks why this was a priority for Campbell, saying that there was widespread division among Christian denominations at the time. Campbell’s perceived path back to unity in the church was restoring practices to those of “primitive, first-century Christianity.”[5] While well intended, what is difficult for any Westerner to see is the lens of individualism through which people, Campbell included, tend to look at Christian practices and how this would differ from the early church in the ancient Near East. Additionally, Anselm of Canterbury layered his Western philosophy of Christ’s personal substitution for the salvation of the individual. Each of these influences has significantly impacted the modern view of many toward the Lord’s Supper.
Taking this sacramental practice as representative of the church’s mission in the world as well as in our own families creates an opportunity to evaluate the welcome Christians embody in our congregations. If all, truly all, are invited to the Messianic banquet, to the feast, to the Lord’s table, Christians serve this truth well if they speak theologically when remembering our procedures. Further, the ways in which people feel welcome at the table articulates the welcome of God. Awareness of Campbell’s well-intended theology, Western individualism, and Anselm’s philosophical influence helps all of this more clearly come into view.
The Messiah says, “Come,” specially inviting the children and admonishing followers that entering the kingdom requires all people to follow their example (Matt 19:14). “While participating in worship, the entire community is shaped by God’s redemptive activity in their midst.”[6]
Matilda shared a generously insightful response to another question, “What do people who are not ten years old need to know about what it is like to be ten years old?” She said, “That I am not a kid.” Unpacking this statement, she explained how it feels to be caught in between childhood and teenage years. She is not “a kid” and has maturing desires to do very “adult” things, things like serving her church community communion. What a beautiful heart.
Maybe her statement causes a moment’s reflection. What was it like to be ten years old? This takes me right back to my brother’s wedding, the night before which I was baptized, and the fact that I got to wear what I thought were high heels. Looking back at my buck-teeth, bowl-cut pictures, I looked like a kid. But on the inside, different things were happening.
Part of why people come to church is to find their place, to be reminded of the truth of their identities as God’s children. “Through participation, worship functions to construct an identity.” Full participation. What better way to form and experience Christian community?
Former children’s minister Dr. Jennifer Schroeder, aka “Matilda’s mom” received the “Children’s Ministry Lifetime Achievement Award at this year’s National Youth and Children’s Ministry Conference in Daytona, Florida in January. Aside from her duties as Summit Director for Abilene Christian University, Schroeder “teaches undergraduate courses in children and family ministry and is the director for the Center for Women in Christian Ministry. Jennifer earned her Doctor of Ministry degree from Abilene Christian University.”
1. Holly Catterton Allen, Intergenerational Christian Formation : Bringing the Whole Church Together in Ministry, Community, and Worship, Second edition. (IVP Academic, 2023), 141.
2. Allen, 142.
3. Allen
4. Ron Bruner and Dana Kennamer Pemberton, Along the Way : Conversations about Children & Faith (Abilene, TX : Abilene Christian University Press, 2015, 2015).
5. Bruner and Pemberton, 114.
6. Bruner and Pemberton, 121.
7. Jennifer Reinsch Schroeder, “Book Review: A Gospel for All Ages: Teaching and Preaching with the Whole Church,” Discernment: Theology and the Practice of Ministry 9, no. 1 (March 18, 2023), https://digitalcommons.acu.edu/discernment/vol9/iss1/4.
