Suffer the Little Children (Why We Don't Have a Church Home)

I'm really bummed today.  We tried a new church after some enthusiastic recommendations from friends, and were once again left with the feeling that our children have no place in the body of Christ, at least not in the churches that meet around here.  The great irony is that the biggest draw to this church is supposed to be their children's program, and that is what convinced us not to come back.

It isn't the challenge of getting four little ones ready for church.  After all, we get ready and go lots of places throughout the week.  No, our quandry is one that would baffle my friends in other parts of the world.  We just want a place where the phrase "suffer the little children" doesn't mean suffering in the modern sense.

I've written about this a bit in my posts Wanted: A Shepherd that Welcomes Bleating Lambs and Confessions of a Spanking Abolitionist.  I've also posted two different letters to pastors.  I know how deeply entrenched the whole culture of religious spanking is in my part of the world.  But it still disappoints me so deeply when we get smacked with it.

The church we went to today is huge, and has a gorgeous facility set up for the kids, including multiple indoor playgrounds that would put a park to shame.  The computerized check in system is smooth and well executed.  All of the volunteers were vigilant when it comes to making sure that our ID tags matched the numbers on the children's stickers.  Also, I was very favorably impressed with the food allergy protocols.  Not only did each child's sticker list any allergies, but rooms had large signs marking some dairy/peanut free and reminding any children who would enter that room to wash up first to avoid any residue.

It looked good.  Our oldest happily went off to her class, our son decided he would rather sit with us, the middle was immediately engrossed in the activities in the preschool room and the baby cheerfully waved goodbye and started munching a cracker as we left the nursery.  We had written on the special instructions area that we were to be paged immediately if our children asked for us, and I told the volunteers personally that if our children asked for us at all to immediately page us.

Dh and I have spent enough time in the children's area of churches to have a lot of misgivings.  We get it that there are some parents who want a break from their kids and don't mind if they cry as long as an adult is trying to comfort them.  I understand that it can place the workers in a sticky position of having to gauge how much crying is acceptable.  That is why I spelled it out: NONE.  We wanted them to get us at the first request, not after they started crying, not after a certain number of minutes.

The sermon emphasized first time obedience, which made me squirmy.  We were sitting in their attractive cafe area, which was right next to their open bookstore.  A quick glance at the parenting section as we passed showed the complete works of Dobson.  That confirmed my squirmy feelings, but wouldn't be a deal-breaker for me.  Seeing Roy Lessin's book was.  At that point, my instincts were shrieking, and dh seemed uncomfortable, too.  He suggested that I go take a peek on the baby, even though our number hadn't flashed.

I could hear the sobs well before getting into the hallway for the classroom.  I dashed inside and saw our toddler, blotchy-faced and sobbing those long, gasping, hiccuping sobs that come after several minutes of intense crying.  "Oh, she just started fussing," the volunteer smiled blithely.  "Really, it hasn't even been two minutes."  Bullshit.  And no, I don't typically curse on this blog, but when you flat out lie to my face about my baby, I'll call it.  I've seen some intense tantrums out of this little one, and I know how long it takes her to get to that state.  My little one squeezed my neck in a death grip, and a full fifteen minutes later was still shaking and whimpering.

Hours later, and my heart is still shaking and sobbing, too.  So far, every church that we have attended here promotes grace for everyone except children.  Even those who seem to have a focus on ministering to kids include such a pervasive punitive mindset that they joke about spanking from the pulpit or flat out preach that God commands parents to hit their children.  Every parenting resource is either Ezzo, Tripp, Dobson or their spiritual cousins.  The idea of children being enemy combatants who must be vanquished is so much a part of their make up that even after explicit instructions from a parent (who should be in authority over the child, no?), they would let her cry to prevent her from being spoiled.  (I realize that there is a bit of speculation on my part regarding the motives of the workers.  However, having heard that sentiment expressed many times by others, I think it is pretty accurate.  There was no indication that she had any intention of paging me from her response when I arrived.)

I'm mad and hurting and discouraged.  Why even bother going to a church at all at this season in our lives?  At our old church, parents were not allowed to stay in the room with children.  It seems rather pointless to go if all I am going to be doing is walking the hallways and waiting for it to be over.  Going just so we can say we did isn't my thing.  And for what it is worth, Ariana and Elena both told us that they didn't want to go back, although there was no trauma in their classes.

I don't want to start our own church.  I have spent most of my life in tiny home churches and am still a bit burnt out on that kind of thing.  I have checked websites of a lot of other denominations in our city, and they still use punitive parenting programs.  I am not sure just how far I want to go in terms of seeking out other churches, but I am beginning to suspect that it is a regional thing rather than a denominational one.  I JUST WANT TO GO TO A CHURCH THAT WON'T TELL ME TO HIT MY KIDS AND LEAVE THEM TO CRY!  IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?!  REALLY?!