personal but not private

Celebrating Maundy Thursday and Good Friday is a bother. It takes extra time out of a busy schedule and most of us have to work and/or get our kids to school on Friday so it’s disrupting to do anything religious on Thursday night.

Which explains why only 10 of us (including my 3 kids) showed up for the Maundy Thursday service at the church building. We had twice that number at our house on Good Friday: 11 adults and 9 kids. But we had a potluck dinner, the service was short (a little over half an hour) and interesting to the kids (they were happy to read Scripture if it meant they got to blow out candles afterward), and people felt free to hang out after the service since there wasn’t any work or school the next day.

But those two services taught me something. My faith may be personal but it isn’t private. It’s a journey that’s meant to be shared. And not just with people my age but also with people of other generations, including kids. In fact, it’s my responsibility as an adult to be a guide to the faith to those younger than me.

That feels awkward to those of us steeped in the American worldview of individualism. We farm out most of the shaping of our kids’ lives to outside experts like professional educators in schools. We would even rather get our early childcare help from experts in books rather than from people we know (and, for whatever reasons, don’t trust).

On Good Friday the shared journey of faith was “hammered” home to me. I was the first to place a nail in the cross as a means of meditation on the meaning of the Crucifixion. The kids were fascinated and crowded around to watch. Of course they wanted to use the hammer, too. I even held a nail so my 5 year old could hammer in a nail (my fingers remained miraculously intact). And all of the adults had to endure the scrutiny of 16 eyes (one of the kids was asleep) watching from up close their act of meditation.

The Maundy Thursday service was also invaded by kids’ curiosity and giggles as we washed each others’ feet and partook of the elements of the Lord’s Table. There wasn’t the usual quiet solemnity and deep introspection we normally associate with religious ritual (and, to be honest, I designed the services with the expectation that kids would be present and not exactly solemn and introspective).

But in those two services we were doing what Christian adults should do: giving our kids experiences that will shape their understanding of who they are as members of the Christian church community. I don’t expect my 5 year old to understand the depths of meaning inherent in Christ’s act of service that he provided as an illustration of humility and love for his disciples. But my 5 year old now has a tangible memory of foot washing that he can use as a focus for future reflection.

In the vows for baptism that we celebrated on Palm Sunday, parents promise to help their children become true disciples of Christ. As a parent, I want to continue to provide experiences such as foot washing and hammering nails into a cross as a foundation for my prayers that my kids (and all of the kids of Grace Community) will become true followers of Jesus. In the eyes of the world this may seem like an inconvenience and maybe even a bit foolish. But in the eyes of God, this is my joy and duty.