As Christians we shouldn’t stop meeting together but Claire Hailwood argues that this should not mean zero flexibility when it comes to our youth and children

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Source: Photo by Kindel Media: https://www.pexels.com/photo/woman-in-blue-shirt-talking-to-a-young-man-in-wh

When our children were young, attending church on Sundays and midweek was a regular, prioritised part of our weekly rhythm. If you’d asked me back then, with toddlers in tow, what parenting teenagers would look like, I’d have confidently told you church attendance would be mandatory.

I grew up in church, and although there were times I fell out of love with Sunday gatherings, I was always connected to youth work in some capacity. The expectation in our family was that we would always attend. I’m grateful for this, and for parents who planted us in church and modelled a love for the bride of Christ. I’m also grateful for the brilliant youth provision that meant I stayed connected.

We’ve been rightfully challenged as we consider what should remain non-negotiable

Church on Sunday is an opportunity for the people of God to gather, worship, pray, and then scatter into the places where we are each called to live for Him. It’s not a religious obligation but a joyful part of our decision to follow Jesus. It’s a joy and a privilege to raise children in the church, so of course it would be a priority for us as our family grew.

As we’ve grown our family, we’ve had the privilege of raising children through birth, fostering and adoption — with all sorts of challenges, brilliance, stories, needs, and opinions. We’ve been rightfully challenged as we consider what should remain non-negotiable, and what is an important principle that might need to be outworked differently.

B joined us when she was 15. She willingly came along on her first Sunday with us, happily accompanying our then two small girls. There were amazing people in our church who were welcoming, kind, and interested in us as a family. Many made a real effort to connect with B and ensure she felt seen and accepted.

B lasted about 12 minutes in the building.

On reflection (and after a long walk that helped with regulation and connection), we began to understand together the reason she’d left. B was completely overwhelmed. She had never experienced such welcome and genuine interest before, nor had she been in an environment with so much conversation, connection, laughter, and noise.

In theory, we could have tried to ‘insist’ that she come with us the following week — but even if that had been appropriate, we knew it wouldn’t be helpful. So where did that leave our commitment?

 

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Help, my teenager doesn’t want to come to church

 

After that, we had children who didn’t want to come and whom we cajoled along, those who flat-out refused (politely or not), those who embraced faith and church wholeheartedly, and those who passionately decided against both.

Fast forward over a decade, and we currently have four children in our family. At the moment, for various understandable reasons, two of them don’t come to church on Sunday mornings.

This has forced us to confront our once very black-and-white views on church attendance. At the heart of this — then and now — is our desire for all our children to know Jesus and have a relationship with him. Full disclosure: I’d love to go to church on Sunday with all our kids and sit with my husband, but that’s not the phase we’re currently in. What I’m learning is that change is needed in me as we examine what we believe and how we live that out — to celebrate and dig in where something remains important, and to flex where we need to, including having the humility to acknowledge where we may have been wrong.

I realised that perhaps we had put too much emphasis on church attendance alone, and too much pressure on church activities to teach and lead those in our lives toward him

It’s also opened our eyes to how ‘church’ may need to change and flex to be more inclusive and welcoming for different sorts of people and expressions of family.

In John 13, as he was speaking about His death to come, Jesus tells His disciples to love one another just as He has loved them — so that the world will know they are His disciples. I’ve read this passage and this verse many times, and I recently realised that when I read “so that the world will know,” I’ve always pictured this vague idea of “everyone out there.” And yes, it absolutely has that wide-reaching impact. But it also includes the specific, real people in our lives — the ones living under our roof, the ones we’re raising in our own homes.

Part of how they will know Christ is how they are loved by us — by what they see and experience in our home, and how they see us live. I realised that perhaps we had put too much emphasis on church attendance alone, and too much pressure on church activities to teach and lead those in our lives toward him. Just as important — for all our kids (those in and out of church gatherings) — is what and how they see us living out our life-changing relationship with Jesus. That includes how we do life with other Christians, not ‘just’ on a Sunday, but in the beautiful normality of day-to-day life.

I don’t want to bend my beliefs to serve the circumstances of my life in a way that lacks integrity or breeds compromise

One thing we’ve intentionally done is make sure we do life authentically and well with other Christians in our home. This gives our kids the chance to build great relationships with others, including with appropriate adults who can encourage and cheer them on. These relationships are what I remember most vividly from growing up in church. The richness of these connections is such a gift.

One of our kids spends one or two nights a month with a family friend. They get treated, have the opportunity to moan about parents, explore questions of faith, and watch Gilmore Girls (again). Another one, who finds too many people overwhelming, enjoys it when particular friends visit and quietly sets one of the adults various challenges — slowly building relationship and connection beyond the immediate family.

Fifteen years ago, I probably wouldn’t have been all that impressed with what I might’ve seen as compromise. But looking back, there was a kind of well-meaning naivety in our thinking — we just didn’t yet understand how much the gift of family, and the way God would shape and build it, would teach us and stretch our understanding.

In trying to insist on attendance, I think it may have harmed relationships in the short term and built resentment in the longer term. Is that helping lead someone to God, or fuelling religious practice? I long for my children to know Christ and to make Him known — and from that, to gather with other Christians in community as church.

I don’t want to bend my beliefs to serve the circumstances of my life in a way that lacks integrity or breeds compromise. But I do know that I need to allow the Holy Spirit to continue teaching and moulding me, so I can follow His leading and seek first His kingdom and righteousness.

Throughout the Gospels, I don’t see Jesus applying a ‘one size fits all’ approach to his encounters with people. Instead, I see him unswerving in his commitment to the Father and sensitive to the person before him. He is always full of truth and full of grace.

As we wrestle with this as parents, may our prayer and practice be led by His Spirit — not only on Sundays but in the everyday moments where grace, truth, and love are needed most.