It's Not All That Easy
Pastoral Resources
Gospel-Telling
The Art and Theology of Children's Sermons
A good children's sermon is simple, direct, dramatic, and participatory; it has a single purpose and enables the listener to experience God's love. A poor children's sermon is dull, rambling, uncreative, overly verbal, and moralistic; it is unfocused and entertaining rather than transformative. Having said this, the bar has been set very high but we must not become discouraged.
Moralism And Humanism
The Trap of Moralism. Moralism is such an easy trap to fall into! Without constant vigilance it simply happens, because we do not have before us a clear distinction between moralism and the Good News, between the indicative and the imperative. The indicative is the Good News that through Jesus Christ (his death and resurrection) each of us is invited into a new relationship with God. The imperative is the ethical response (both personal and social) that we make as that new creation begins to take root and blossom. The imperative is grounded in the indicative, not vice versa. Leander Keck, senior New Testament editor for the twelve--volume commentary The New Interpreter's Bible and former president of the Society of Biblical Literature, writes:
First of all, the nature of the moral life calls for more than attending to Jesus' teachings about what is and is not to be done, important though they are. The moral life is more than choosing and more than knowing what to choose and how to choose it ... In any case, the moral life pertains to the doer before it pertains to the deed....
- Who is Jesus?, p. 160
The writers of the Gospels narrate the story of Jesus by anchoring sayings and teachings of Jesus in the portrayal of his life and character. Thus, we need to guard against too many "should and should nots," especially so when left to dangle by themselves.
What good is a dozen "should" and "should nots" when they aren't the fruit of a life nurtured and grounded in Jesus my Savior?
Moralism is more of a trap when children are the congregation. While it is certainly true that children are in their formative years of developing a moral code, that is no excuse for detaching moral conduct from the Savior. If from the child's point of view the Good News is heard as sermons about being more respectful, industrious, kind, honest, and less wasteful, mean, selfish, and temperamental, then we have failed. In the hierarchy of virtues these would head almost every parent's list but they do not constitute the Kingdom Jesus preached. Even when we preach humility, compassion, peacemaking, joy, self--control, faithfulness, they are frequently treated as if they are possible in and of themselves. We know the Beatitudes and Paul's gifts of the Spirit are the fruit (imperative) of a tree planted and nurtured (indicative) in living for Christ. An adult parallel would be trying to scare cigarette smokers into kicking their habit or to expect alcoholics to stop drinking by sheer willpower and good intentions. What we learn from both of these imperative--first approaches is that we are only scared for a short time and then return to the old self, and individuals do not change unless their new formation is supported and encouraged by a community of believers. Alcoholics Anonymous begins with the premise that we are powerless and change results from the power of a Higher Being working a new creation within us. Moralism has the cart pulling the horse.
The goal of every children's sermon should be the grounding of God's expectation of what we can be in the communication of God's love and acceptance of who we are as children of God.
Unfortunately, most children's sermons aim at adjusting children's behavior instead of helping them form a relationship with God as they come to know Jesus. The negative consequence is that children experience love as law when they should be experiencing law as love; as Paul Scherer explains it, "Love experienced as Law ceases to be love. Law experienced as Love ceases to be Law" (The Word God Sent, p. 15). Practically speaking, this does not mean that every sermon should have as its sole purpose the conversion of the child. There are good reasons why a gospel-telling is not followed with an altar call. But it does mean that every children's sermon with a moral imperative should place that moral injunction in a context where it is perceived as an act of love rather than duty. In the sermon "Overcoming Temptation," how easy it would have been to present the experience of temptation and neglect to include the Christian antidote (prayer). If Jesus had come to make us good, then persuasion would be our objective. But since Jesus came to demonstrate God's great love, our goal is to prepare the heart to be loved by God.
The Trap of Humanism. Humanism is the sibling of moralism. It too is a trap waiting to be sprung. If moralism is the ever present danger of confusing the gospel with character building, humanism is the ever present danger of confusing the gospel with the wisdom of the ages or parental/pastoral advice. The Bible is, of course, filled with the best kind of worldly wisdom, and the preacher has no difficulty in finding a suitable text to support humanistic truths. But the result is again paramount to separating the message from the Messenger.
Moralism often arises when we are trying to make practical the teachings of Jesus, while humanism results from trying to be overly original and "hip." If moralism is the pitfall of conservatism, then humanism is the undertow of liberalism. Just because a sermon is drawn from Scripture does not mean it is exempt from moralism and humanism. More often than not we have removed the text from its fuller narrative context and used it as a springboard. Fairy tales, fables, and most children's stories are humanistic. This does not necessarily make them unsuitable as a starting place for a children's sermon; they simply cannot be the message and if they are not the message, there must be a very good reason to begin here.
The gospel without Jesus Christ is like a car without a motor: it looks attractive as long as it is standing still, but as soon as one tries to drive it, its fatal flaw is discovered. Likewise, children will find humanistic sermons interesting and enjoyable but completely useless outside of church where wisdom quickly turns into expediency. Unless an individual has a living relationship with Christ, the imperative to return evil with good and to overcome hate with love will only be lessons in frustration. No matter how it is dressed up, worldly wisdom will always be advice about how to make it in this world. In proclaiming God's foolishness (1 Corinthians 1:18) humanism and moralism will forever be attractive alternatives, but we know we have sold our children a "bill of goods" soon to be found wanting.
Simile, Allegory, Metaphor, Literalism
A simile is a concise figure of speech that directly compares two unrelated things to indicate a shared likeness between them, usually by the use of "like" or "as." For example, "All we like sheep have gone astray" (Isaiah 53:6). An allegory necessarily involves the listener in a decoding process but one that is more complex and symbolic. A story is told, a pictorial representation is given, that suggests a central truth, thus augmenting and deepening the meaning of the lesson. The parable of the sower (Mark 4:3--8), for example, preserves a story which had become allegorized in the classical sense; its point--for--point interpretation follows (vv. 14--20; cf. Ezekiel 17:3--10, 11--21).2 Both similes and allegories depend upon a form of conceptual thinking we know as analogical where an inference is drawn based on the assumption that if two things are alike in some respect, then they must be alike in other respects. The insight into their alikeness in their difference is what make similes and allegories enlightening.
Like a simile and an allegory, a metaphor vitalizes speech by juxtaposing two unrelated things in order to make one or both more striking. Unlike an allegory or a simile, a metaphor accomplishes its goal by making the comparison implicitly. When Saint Paul speaks of Christ crucified as a stumbling block unto the Jews (1 Corinthians 1:23), he is forming a metaphor because the meaning that is implied depends upon bringing together the idea of the Messiah and death by crucifixion - each acceptable in its own right but in combination certainly unthinkable to a Jewish population awaiting a King who would sit on David's throne. Of course, this metaphor could be extended in many ways by way of a story or a parable.
A simile most often uses the conjunction "like," while a metaphor employs the predicate "is." Thus, we have several levels of abstraction as we move from simple description to simile, allegory, and metaphor.
God is strong and gentle.
God is strong and gentle like a shepherd.
The Lord is my shepherd.
Consider the analogy in the following Easter sermon for children. In trying to explain the meaning of Easter (rather than trying to create the experience of Easter), the minister said something to this effect. "Just like the egg that is broken open and out comes a chick, so the tomb was broken open and Jesus came out." The analogy involves a complex decoding process of analogical thinking.
egg = tomb
chick = Jesus
This is a lot for a little mind to digest and if digested it makes for a lot of strange conclusions. The resurrection of Jesus defies explanation and thus invites analogies and metaphors. One of the two Easter sermons in the book is to some extent analogical but is notably more experiential and meant to evoke awe and wonderment. The alternative is simple direct speech (see the reflection note in the sermon, "Baa--Baa"). You judge which is the better.
It is necessary to distinguish between literalism and direct speech. Literalism is a form of speech or interpretation where exaggeration, metaphor, or double meanings are prohibited. It expects the speech, written or spoken, to be taken for just what it is, its plain sense. Direct speech is described by the family therapist Virginia Satir as "leveling" where all parts of the message are going in the same direction (Peoplemaking, pp. 72--79). Leveling is contrasted with loaded messages with multiple meanings, some conscious and some unconscious, where the voice is saying one thing but the rest of you is feeling and communicating something else. It would seem that literalism and direct speech are the same because they are about the plain sense of what is being said. The difference is that literalism - especially in the way younger children think - is fraught with complications that mar the plain sense. What is the literal sense of "the Lord is my shepherd" or even "the Lord is like a shepherd"? The child probably does not know what a shepherd is like and so the analogy is not immediately useful or understandable in its plain sense. A story is needed to show what a shepherd does (see "Baa--Baa"). The difficulty with literalism is that we do not always know when to take the words literally or when they imply a simile or an analogy or need to be interpreted symbolically or metaphorically; and this is as true of Scripture as everyday speech. If as adults we are not sure what the intended meaning is, then children will surely be uncertain or mistaken about what is said literally when that is not what is meant because a strict literal sense is nonsense. Since younger children often think literally, they hear a literal meaning when this is not the intended meaning.
When the moment of gospel-telling comes, you, as the pro--claimer, need to be aware of your primary mode of communication. This is complicated by three factors: your understanding of the biblical mode of communication, the mode that is appropriate for the age of the children, and the type of message you are delivering. Almost everyone agrees the Bible includes simile, allegory, metaphor, historical, theological, poetic, and narrative forms of speech. Disagreement arises about which form is being used by the author, such as in the Noah story. The one safe conclusion is that no one form is so predominant that we should feel obligated to use it all the time. The second certain consensus is that children are not very adept or even have the capacity for the kind of abstraction that simile, allegory, and metaphor require. A separate discussion, "Targeting Your Sermon," will go into this matter in greater detail. I would add nevertheless that literalism has its own particular pitfalls and that imaginative language is not necessarily inappropriate (see "Overhearing The Gospel"). But as a rule the conversation that works best is the kind that is personal, direct, and level. Third, and here we can learn from the biblical writers, different types of messages require different modes of communication. Jesus' use of parables was effective, for instance, because of its indirection (catching the listener off--guard). The sense of awe and wonderment (the wholly Other) cannot be communicated literally because words cannot contain the mystery of God or the amazement of God's grace. Some messages will be direct, concrete, and simple while others may be suggestive, double--edged, poetic, even paradoxical because as human beings we respond to different modes of communication at different times and ages of our lives. As proclaimers we are responsible for being aware of the level of meaning and the means of communication we are employing.
Object Lessons
The object lesson has become the preferred menu for children's sermons by default. I may be unfairly critical of object lessons because they have a momentum toward moralism and allegory. The object is intended to ground the lesson in a reality children understand (see e.g., "God Doesn't Make Telephone Calls" where the telephone recreates an experience we are familiar with). When Kathleen Fannin accepted the role of gospel--teller in her church, she relates the advice she received and took to be gospel. "A second bit of wisdom was offered by an eight--year--old when I was talking with his mother in the grocery store. 'Don't ever do a children's sermon without a visual aid' " (Cows In Church: 52 Biblically Based Children's Sermons). More often than not the object serves as a springboard, an attention getter, a starting place (see the sermon "Breakfast Of Champions"). It does happen occasionally that the object is the lesson (see the sermon "An Apple A Day"). The object may also be used to illustrate or demonstrate, for example, when the air in a balloon is compared to the Holy Spirit (see "Adding A Drop Of Love" where the drop of food coloring is illustrative). In a pure object lesson, the object is indispensable and because it is indispensable an analogy or moral is often forthcoming. Some form of reasoning is needed to get from the object to the lesson. A "lesson," however, is not the same as "proclamation." I could point out that Jesus did not utilize object lessons but that would be unfair, because we do not know how he interacted with children except to love them and include them. What we do know is that Jesus' method of communication was direct, distinctive, participatory, and involved "overhearing." I have developed what I think is a healthy skepticism about object lessons because they are too much about mind and not enough about heart.
What objects do accomplish is to make speech more concrete by the use of visual aids. Words alone can be boring and ineffective, especially so with children who have limited patience with abstract thinking. The exception to this rule is the story form because it has a plot (a reason to listen) and because it is personal (it is about someone I know, someone I would like to know, and myself).
The Misuse Of Biblical Heroes And Stories
If only gospel-telling were as easy as retelling the stories found in the Old and New Testaments. When a children's sermon is a familiar biblical narrative told in an interesting way, the underlying assumption is that children will assimilate the Christian faith by way of familiarity. A number of difficulties, however, must be recognized. First, most biblical stories were written for adults and are situated in a narrative context. When removed from their theological context and simply retold they are likely to be misappropriated by children. Children may be told about Adam and Eve, Noah and his ark, the crossing of the Red Sea, Jonah and the whale, David and Goliath, Zacchaeus, and the Good Samaritan, but they are usually left to devise their own interpretations of these stories. Children internalize these accounts but often with horrendous results.
Telling the Adam and Eve narrative as a literal story, for example, may result in banishing sin to some faraway time, localizing it in an unknown place, associating it with picking fruit or nudity, or confirming the cultural bias that snakes and women are not to be trusted. If we abide by a literal interpretation, we must be aware of the two extremes - hearing it as literally true or as a fairy tale, and depending upon the age of the children this is what we should expect. The story is heard as something that happened a long time ago in a faraway place with a talking snake. Our real obligation is to teach children that sin is what happens in backyards and playgrounds. It isn't easy to make the connection between Adam and Eve and the inevitability and universality of sin for a seven--year--old. I suspect this is one reason why fewer and fewer children's sermons utilize biblical stories or depend upon the Bible at all.
If one is inclined toward reading biblical stories as historical accounts, another set of difficulties arises. One is drawn into a succession of explanations the biblical writers never intended: how did Noah distinguish between male and female turtles, how did Jonah find sufficient oxygen to breathe, why didn't Goliath just squash David? While younger children bask in fantasy and make--believe, older children are intent upon sorting out fact from fiction. While children do not have to contend with historical criticism, they do become confused or mystified by a welter of disjointed accounts that seem totally unrelated to their lives. It is well to keep in mind that each biblical story was part of a larger story and it was the larger narrative that enabled the part to be meaningful. The Adam--Eve story is part of the prologue (Genesis 1--11) of a much longer narrative of Israel and God, and Jonah is not about survival techniques but how to love (not just tolerate) foreigners.
Certain biblical stories are great fun for anyone with a vivid imagination. As children we delighted in picture books of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Paradise, a box full of animals along with Noah and his wife, the strong right hand of Moses parting the Red Sea, a song about Zacchaeus in his sycamore tree. But as a child matures, these stories are relegated to the not--so--important corner of the mind. If we wait to communicate the theological significance of biblical stories, we wait too long and we must live with the consequences of our mental laziness. Children become adults faster than we think, and if we avoid explaining the story of Jonah, there is a good chance they will grow up believing the story is outrageous for the wrong reason. It is not so difficult for children to understand the prejudice of a man who did not like foreigners - those Ninevites - and what it means to struggle with the God who redraws the line of inclusion/exclusion. They have the capacity to realize the Hebrews preserved the story of Jonah not as a fairy tale or fable, but as a story that shows how God's mercy overwhelms us. Certainly this isn't a message for adults only, but when it is proclaimed to children it isn't easy.
Storytellers, beware! Those very features that make a story interesting and arresting also divert us from and cloud the life--and--death meaning they were originally meant to dramatize. When the stories we tell happened long ago, focus upon their theological intent and try not to imply something that will later lead to confusion or need to be relearned.
Biblical heroes represent another briar patch. The Bible is not the first place children go in order to find their heroes. Frequently heroes like Moses and Daniel are singled out for their heroic deeds (parting the Red Sea, escaping the fiery furnace, etc.). The attraction of super heroes wears thin as children are forced to be realistic about life. They serve a certain need for fantasy and escapism but that need is quickly in conflict with a need to succeed, to be liked, to do well. Living in a culture so saturated with superstars drawn from sports and music, everyone else seems irrelevant. Biblical heroes, as they are usually depicted, never disappoint because they are idealizations frozen in time. Sports heroes and music legends, on the other hand, attract a following because of the cultural values they embody, most of them not Christian values.
Nevertheless, biblical figures should not be dismissed. They should be presented with the same honesty they are portrayed in scripture. The "movers and shakers" of various biblical narratives know a thing or two about sin, doubt, shame, limitations, handicaps. As someone who has struggled with his own handicap, stuttering, I appreciate the heroes who persevered "in spite of." Saint Paul does speak of finishing the race, not being first. It is curious how Zacchaeus has been singled out among many New Testament figures to be popularized. Like Johnny Appleseed, he has become a natural part of childhood memories, because of a catchy song, colorful pictures, and the ease with which we identify with him. My hunch is that Zacchaeus has become an all--time favorite because children can identify with the feeling of being small and disliked. (Just try having them identify with "the woman with a flow of blood" or one of the several lepers.) Children - especially boys - identify with David the giant--killer for similar reasons. Though not very old or very big, David put the bully in his place. But herein lies the danger. Without a lot of additional help from adults, children get carried away with the image of the little man in a sycamore tree or the boy with a slingshot. (What better justification for having your very own weapon of destruction?) In the final analysis, identification is the name of the game here. These stories need to be fleshed out. On his rise to glory, Kind David is loved by all (except for Saul) and thereby falls in love with himself. Zacchaeus was also rich, powerful (a tax collector), and despised. His salvation is the story of how one lacking in stature (both literally and metaphorically) is "made tall" in the eyes of those who had despised him (and the line of who is "in" and who is "out" is redrawn). The very same heroes who are portrayed as bigger than life are the very same heroes who experience the grace of God when they are brought low (mostly by their own actions). There probably isn't a child or teenager alive who hasn't aspired to be a super hero, but I don't see them identifying with figures from the Bible. On the other hand, they know and will know loneliness, rejection, guilt, failure, doubt; I hope they will have heard of a story or two of someone who has also known these and was able to keep the faith (see the sermon "Breakfast Of Champions").
Very little irritates me more than the annual massacre of the story of the Good Samaritan. He has become the paradigm of virtue because he stopped to help one in need as others passed by on the other side. But do children realize the story turns on the fact that the Samaritan was a half--breed, both racially and religiously? This story was not originally heard as imperative ("Go thou and do likewise") but as indicative (the neighbor who loves more than me is a Samaritan!). The parable (not cute, moralistic anecdotes but stories of reversal) is Jesus' answer to the question about the limits of love (Who can be called my neighbor? Could a Samaritan be called "good"?). In the echo story included in this handbook, you will find the usual emphasis on helping someone who is hurt, but you will also find a frequently omitted "hook" that the Good Samaritan is a geek or whoever in your setting is the last person on earth you would want to be your neighbor. Children perceive this as a contradiction, yet it is this very contradiction that gives the story its impact and carries its radical message about the nature of Christian love. Although this may seem like a minor point, it makes a difference between a sentimental story of a do--gooder and a shocking account of a "loser" who did not pass by on the other side.
The biblical stories were not told and retold because of their historical content or the validity of their scientific explanations; they remained relevant and vital because they provided identity to the people who "passed them on" (tradition). As ones who are called to pass on that same tradition, we confront the danger of being literal and uncreative in order to be biblical, that is, telling the old, old story as if it were a body of information to be learned.
Participatory Communication
In summary, utilize leveling where everything flows in the same direction except for those instances where a conscious decision is made to be disruptive and suggestive in order to surprise the listener and turn his/her known world upside down. There is another aspect of communication we must take into account. Listen to the sage advise from one our country's best preachers, Fred B. Craddock.
In the first place, the Bible addresses the community of faith and is not a collection of theological and ethical arguments to persuade atheists or adherents of other religions.
Secondly, it is generally characteristic of the Bible not to repeat a story verbatim and from that story draw lessons and exhortations appropriate to the particular audience, but rather to retell the story in such a way that it properly addresses the hearers.
- Overhearing the Gospel, p. 66
As preachers we try to be engaging (as distinct from being interesting but that too). When we excite children we always engage adults, but the converse is not necessarily true. So how do we engage children? This book offers many suggestions but they can be summarized in the phrase "participatory communication." And that is what makes our task so difficult. We have mentioned the universal impression that the object is the way to captivate children. In Part II there are six different kinds of gospel-tellings: let's pretend, visual demonstrations, dramatic participation, pantomime and echo, storytelling, and puppets. While dramatic participation is the purest form of participatory communication, all the sermons have this as their aim.
Participatory communication is based upon the following Learning Pyramid.3
We know from practical experience that the greater an individual's involvement in a learning situation, the greater the degree of retention. For example, the reader is more likely to remember the information just presented if he receives the visual stimulus of the pyramid rather than just the stimulus of a long descriptive paragraph. Similarly, learning to ride a bicycle is a formative experience (in contrast to a learning experience) because it requires the total participation of the individual.
Because of the nature of their development, the span of concentration, and their exposure to mass media, children have a built--in screen against excessive verbal communication. In their early years they learn as much through touching, tasting, feeling, and observing as they do by hearing and seeing. Just consider the miracle of how children learn what is basic to their development: crawling, walking, trusting, a sense of "self," a sense of "other," what is "fair," etc. The complex ability to use language comes last and it too is not just about hearing words but hearing within a context. The use of "props" connected with words in order to make something more concrete is not the epitome of effective preaching. In fact, we never reach the apex until we approximate the experience of riding a bicycle or learning to swim. We are, after all, talking about Christian formation and transformation - the patterns of living that arise from our personal, firsthand experience of living for Jesus and Jesus living in us. Trying to explain something that is essentially experiential using abstract concepts which can only be communicated verbally is not acceptable. Participatory communication is at the other end of the spectrum: it is about doing, touching, tasting, feeling, smelling, seeing, and hearing in order to experience what will be serviceable. In the sermon "An Apple A Day," children do all of these and any words spoken are secondary. Gospel--tellings give us the freedom to do all kinds of crazy, fun stuff that is truly interesting because it is participatory.
The Broadway hit musical Godspell is such a delight because it presents biblical material (parables, sayings, narrative, and action) in a variety of fresh ways. I selected the sermons in this handbook because they also suggest a variety of ways to preach the gospel other than the usual stand--up monologue delivered with an object in hand. As ministers and teachers of children (as compared to adults), we have the distinct advantage of knowing immediately how effective we are. If hands and feet begin to fidget, and heads begin to turn and side--bar conversations spring up, then we know we have lost them because the communication has been a monologue. I was once surprised during a children's sermon when a boy of seven flashed me a particular sign we had learned in Vacation Bible School two weeks earlier (the thumb pointed horizontally and the index finger pointing vertically). At that time I was wondering if any of the eighty restless children were engaged. I knew then at least one had picked up the visual clue and I hoped he remembered the verse: Love God with all your heart (vertical finger) and your neighbor as yourself (horizontal finger).
Here is the appropriate place to take a critical look at the question/answer approach to participation. We ask a question and the children answer (the Socratic method). For some children - those who do well in school - this methodology will capture them and they will be participants in the gospel-telling. As Vince Lombardi, the successful football coach of the Green Bay Packers, said about passing: Three things can happen and two aren't good. First, when you ask questions, children begin to "go fish" for the right answer. Second, when you ask questions there is a high probability you will be sidetracked. If you are looking for a humorous moment, then go ahead and take your chances. What we must guard against is the over dependence upon questions and answers as the primary way we try to make communication participatory.
Most congregations have resources that certainly should be tapped. Among the members are artists, musicians, engineers, actors, and storytellers who are usually willing to assist in a special project. In a church in New Jersey, a high school shop teacher had put together a working robot which the minister used effectively for a number of children's sermons. Although such creativity is a great thing, we must make sure that it does not displace the gospel message itself.
Moralism And Humanism
The Trap of Moralism. Moralism is such an easy trap to fall into! Without constant vigilance it simply happens, because we do not have before us a clear distinction between moralism and the Good News, between the indicative and the imperative. The indicative is the Good News that through Jesus Christ (his death and resurrection) each of us is invited into a new relationship with God. The imperative is the ethical response (both personal and social) that we make as that new creation begins to take root and blossom. The imperative is grounded in the indicative, not vice versa. Leander Keck, senior New Testament editor for the twelve--volume commentary The New Interpreter's Bible and former president of the Society of Biblical Literature, writes:
First of all, the nature of the moral life calls for more than attending to Jesus' teachings about what is and is not to be done, important though they are. The moral life is more than choosing and more than knowing what to choose and how to choose it ... In any case, the moral life pertains to the doer before it pertains to the deed....
- Who is Jesus?, p. 160
The writers of the Gospels narrate the story of Jesus by anchoring sayings and teachings of Jesus in the portrayal of his life and character. Thus, we need to guard against too many "should and should nots," especially so when left to dangle by themselves.
What good is a dozen "should" and "should nots" when they aren't the fruit of a life nurtured and grounded in Jesus my Savior?
Moralism is more of a trap when children are the congregation. While it is certainly true that children are in their formative years of developing a moral code, that is no excuse for detaching moral conduct from the Savior. If from the child's point of view the Good News is heard as sermons about being more respectful, industrious, kind, honest, and less wasteful, mean, selfish, and temperamental, then we have failed. In the hierarchy of virtues these would head almost every parent's list but they do not constitute the Kingdom Jesus preached. Even when we preach humility, compassion, peacemaking, joy, self--control, faithfulness, they are frequently treated as if they are possible in and of themselves. We know the Beatitudes and Paul's gifts of the Spirit are the fruit (imperative) of a tree planted and nurtured (indicative) in living for Christ. An adult parallel would be trying to scare cigarette smokers into kicking their habit or to expect alcoholics to stop drinking by sheer willpower and good intentions. What we learn from both of these imperative--first approaches is that we are only scared for a short time and then return to the old self, and individuals do not change unless their new formation is supported and encouraged by a community of believers. Alcoholics Anonymous begins with the premise that we are powerless and change results from the power of a Higher Being working a new creation within us. Moralism has the cart pulling the horse.
The goal of every children's sermon should be the grounding of God's expectation of what we can be in the communication of God's love and acceptance of who we are as children of God.
Unfortunately, most children's sermons aim at adjusting children's behavior instead of helping them form a relationship with God as they come to know Jesus. The negative consequence is that children experience love as law when they should be experiencing law as love; as Paul Scherer explains it, "Love experienced as Law ceases to be love. Law experienced as Love ceases to be Law" (The Word God Sent, p. 15). Practically speaking, this does not mean that every sermon should have as its sole purpose the conversion of the child. There are good reasons why a gospel-telling is not followed with an altar call. But it does mean that every children's sermon with a moral imperative should place that moral injunction in a context where it is perceived as an act of love rather than duty. In the sermon "Overcoming Temptation," how easy it would have been to present the experience of temptation and neglect to include the Christian antidote (prayer). If Jesus had come to make us good, then persuasion would be our objective. But since Jesus came to demonstrate God's great love, our goal is to prepare the heart to be loved by God.
The Trap of Humanism. Humanism is the sibling of moralism. It too is a trap waiting to be sprung. If moralism is the ever present danger of confusing the gospel with character building, humanism is the ever present danger of confusing the gospel with the wisdom of the ages or parental/pastoral advice. The Bible is, of course, filled with the best kind of worldly wisdom, and the preacher has no difficulty in finding a suitable text to support humanistic truths. But the result is again paramount to separating the message from the Messenger.
Moralism often arises when we are trying to make practical the teachings of Jesus, while humanism results from trying to be overly original and "hip." If moralism is the pitfall of conservatism, then humanism is the undertow of liberalism. Just because a sermon is drawn from Scripture does not mean it is exempt from moralism and humanism. More often than not we have removed the text from its fuller narrative context and used it as a springboard. Fairy tales, fables, and most children's stories are humanistic. This does not necessarily make them unsuitable as a starting place for a children's sermon; they simply cannot be the message and if they are not the message, there must be a very good reason to begin here.
The gospel without Jesus Christ is like a car without a motor: it looks attractive as long as it is standing still, but as soon as one tries to drive it, its fatal flaw is discovered. Likewise, children will find humanistic sermons interesting and enjoyable but completely useless outside of church where wisdom quickly turns into expediency. Unless an individual has a living relationship with Christ, the imperative to return evil with good and to overcome hate with love will only be lessons in frustration. No matter how it is dressed up, worldly wisdom will always be advice about how to make it in this world. In proclaiming God's foolishness (1 Corinthians 1:18) humanism and moralism will forever be attractive alternatives, but we know we have sold our children a "bill of goods" soon to be found wanting.
Simile, Allegory, Metaphor, Literalism
A simile is a concise figure of speech that directly compares two unrelated things to indicate a shared likeness between them, usually by the use of "like" or "as." For example, "All we like sheep have gone astray" (Isaiah 53:6). An allegory necessarily involves the listener in a decoding process but one that is more complex and symbolic. A story is told, a pictorial representation is given, that suggests a central truth, thus augmenting and deepening the meaning of the lesson. The parable of the sower (Mark 4:3--8), for example, preserves a story which had become allegorized in the classical sense; its point--for--point interpretation follows (vv. 14--20; cf. Ezekiel 17:3--10, 11--21).2 Both similes and allegories depend upon a form of conceptual thinking we know as analogical where an inference is drawn based on the assumption that if two things are alike in some respect, then they must be alike in other respects. The insight into their alikeness in their difference is what make similes and allegories enlightening.
Like a simile and an allegory, a metaphor vitalizes speech by juxtaposing two unrelated things in order to make one or both more striking. Unlike an allegory or a simile, a metaphor accomplishes its goal by making the comparison implicitly. When Saint Paul speaks of Christ crucified as a stumbling block unto the Jews (1 Corinthians 1:23), he is forming a metaphor because the meaning that is implied depends upon bringing together the idea of the Messiah and death by crucifixion - each acceptable in its own right but in combination certainly unthinkable to a Jewish population awaiting a King who would sit on David's throne. Of course, this metaphor could be extended in many ways by way of a story or a parable.
A simile most often uses the conjunction "like," while a metaphor employs the predicate "is." Thus, we have several levels of abstraction as we move from simple description to simile, allegory, and metaphor.
God is strong and gentle.
God is strong and gentle like a shepherd.
The Lord is my shepherd.
Consider the analogy in the following Easter sermon for children. In trying to explain the meaning of Easter (rather than trying to create the experience of Easter), the minister said something to this effect. "Just like the egg that is broken open and out comes a chick, so the tomb was broken open and Jesus came out." The analogy involves a complex decoding process of analogical thinking.
egg = tomb
chick = Jesus
This is a lot for a little mind to digest and if digested it makes for a lot of strange conclusions. The resurrection of Jesus defies explanation and thus invites analogies and metaphors. One of the two Easter sermons in the book is to some extent analogical but is notably more experiential and meant to evoke awe and wonderment. The alternative is simple direct speech (see the reflection note in the sermon, "Baa--Baa"). You judge which is the better.
It is necessary to distinguish between literalism and direct speech. Literalism is a form of speech or interpretation where exaggeration, metaphor, or double meanings are prohibited. It expects the speech, written or spoken, to be taken for just what it is, its plain sense. Direct speech is described by the family therapist Virginia Satir as "leveling" where all parts of the message are going in the same direction (Peoplemaking, pp. 72--79). Leveling is contrasted with loaded messages with multiple meanings, some conscious and some unconscious, where the voice is saying one thing but the rest of you is feeling and communicating something else. It would seem that literalism and direct speech are the same because they are about the plain sense of what is being said. The difference is that literalism - especially in the way younger children think - is fraught with complications that mar the plain sense. What is the literal sense of "the Lord is my shepherd" or even "the Lord is like a shepherd"? The child probably does not know what a shepherd is like and so the analogy is not immediately useful or understandable in its plain sense. A story is needed to show what a shepherd does (see "Baa--Baa"). The difficulty with literalism is that we do not always know when to take the words literally or when they imply a simile or an analogy or need to be interpreted symbolically or metaphorically; and this is as true of Scripture as everyday speech. If as adults we are not sure what the intended meaning is, then children will surely be uncertain or mistaken about what is said literally when that is not what is meant because a strict literal sense is nonsense. Since younger children often think literally, they hear a literal meaning when this is not the intended meaning.
When the moment of gospel-telling comes, you, as the pro--claimer, need to be aware of your primary mode of communication. This is complicated by three factors: your understanding of the biblical mode of communication, the mode that is appropriate for the age of the children, and the type of message you are delivering. Almost everyone agrees the Bible includes simile, allegory, metaphor, historical, theological, poetic, and narrative forms of speech. Disagreement arises about which form is being used by the author, such as in the Noah story. The one safe conclusion is that no one form is so predominant that we should feel obligated to use it all the time. The second certain consensus is that children are not very adept or even have the capacity for the kind of abstraction that simile, allegory, and metaphor require. A separate discussion, "Targeting Your Sermon," will go into this matter in greater detail. I would add nevertheless that literalism has its own particular pitfalls and that imaginative language is not necessarily inappropriate (see "Overhearing The Gospel"). But as a rule the conversation that works best is the kind that is personal, direct, and level. Third, and here we can learn from the biblical writers, different types of messages require different modes of communication. Jesus' use of parables was effective, for instance, because of its indirection (catching the listener off--guard). The sense of awe and wonderment (the wholly Other) cannot be communicated literally because words cannot contain the mystery of God or the amazement of God's grace. Some messages will be direct, concrete, and simple while others may be suggestive, double--edged, poetic, even paradoxical because as human beings we respond to different modes of communication at different times and ages of our lives. As proclaimers we are responsible for being aware of the level of meaning and the means of communication we are employing.
Object Lessons
The object lesson has become the preferred menu for children's sermons by default. I may be unfairly critical of object lessons because they have a momentum toward moralism and allegory. The object is intended to ground the lesson in a reality children understand (see e.g., "God Doesn't Make Telephone Calls" where the telephone recreates an experience we are familiar with). When Kathleen Fannin accepted the role of gospel--teller in her church, she relates the advice she received and took to be gospel. "A second bit of wisdom was offered by an eight--year--old when I was talking with his mother in the grocery store. 'Don't ever do a children's sermon without a visual aid' " (Cows In Church: 52 Biblically Based Children's Sermons). More often than not the object serves as a springboard, an attention getter, a starting place (see the sermon "Breakfast Of Champions"). It does happen occasionally that the object is the lesson (see the sermon "An Apple A Day"). The object may also be used to illustrate or demonstrate, for example, when the air in a balloon is compared to the Holy Spirit (see "Adding A Drop Of Love" where the drop of food coloring is illustrative). In a pure object lesson, the object is indispensable and because it is indispensable an analogy or moral is often forthcoming. Some form of reasoning is needed to get from the object to the lesson. A "lesson," however, is not the same as "proclamation." I could point out that Jesus did not utilize object lessons but that would be unfair, because we do not know how he interacted with children except to love them and include them. What we do know is that Jesus' method of communication was direct, distinctive, participatory, and involved "overhearing." I have developed what I think is a healthy skepticism about object lessons because they are too much about mind and not enough about heart.
What objects do accomplish is to make speech more concrete by the use of visual aids. Words alone can be boring and ineffective, especially so with children who have limited patience with abstract thinking. The exception to this rule is the story form because it has a plot (a reason to listen) and because it is personal (it is about someone I know, someone I would like to know, and myself).
The Misuse Of Biblical Heroes And Stories
If only gospel-telling were as easy as retelling the stories found in the Old and New Testaments. When a children's sermon is a familiar biblical narrative told in an interesting way, the underlying assumption is that children will assimilate the Christian faith by way of familiarity. A number of difficulties, however, must be recognized. First, most biblical stories were written for adults and are situated in a narrative context. When removed from their theological context and simply retold they are likely to be misappropriated by children. Children may be told about Adam and Eve, Noah and his ark, the crossing of the Red Sea, Jonah and the whale, David and Goliath, Zacchaeus, and the Good Samaritan, but they are usually left to devise their own interpretations of these stories. Children internalize these accounts but often with horrendous results.
Telling the Adam and Eve narrative as a literal story, for example, may result in banishing sin to some faraway time, localizing it in an unknown place, associating it with picking fruit or nudity, or confirming the cultural bias that snakes and women are not to be trusted. If we abide by a literal interpretation, we must be aware of the two extremes - hearing it as literally true or as a fairy tale, and depending upon the age of the children this is what we should expect. The story is heard as something that happened a long time ago in a faraway place with a talking snake. Our real obligation is to teach children that sin is what happens in backyards and playgrounds. It isn't easy to make the connection between Adam and Eve and the inevitability and universality of sin for a seven--year--old. I suspect this is one reason why fewer and fewer children's sermons utilize biblical stories or depend upon the Bible at all.
If one is inclined toward reading biblical stories as historical accounts, another set of difficulties arises. One is drawn into a succession of explanations the biblical writers never intended: how did Noah distinguish between male and female turtles, how did Jonah find sufficient oxygen to breathe, why didn't Goliath just squash David? While younger children bask in fantasy and make--believe, older children are intent upon sorting out fact from fiction. While children do not have to contend with historical criticism, they do become confused or mystified by a welter of disjointed accounts that seem totally unrelated to their lives. It is well to keep in mind that each biblical story was part of a larger story and it was the larger narrative that enabled the part to be meaningful. The Adam--Eve story is part of the prologue (Genesis 1--11) of a much longer narrative of Israel and God, and Jonah is not about survival techniques but how to love (not just tolerate) foreigners.
Certain biblical stories are great fun for anyone with a vivid imagination. As children we delighted in picture books of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Paradise, a box full of animals along with Noah and his wife, the strong right hand of Moses parting the Red Sea, a song about Zacchaeus in his sycamore tree. But as a child matures, these stories are relegated to the not--so--important corner of the mind. If we wait to communicate the theological significance of biblical stories, we wait too long and we must live with the consequences of our mental laziness. Children become adults faster than we think, and if we avoid explaining the story of Jonah, there is a good chance they will grow up believing the story is outrageous for the wrong reason. It is not so difficult for children to understand the prejudice of a man who did not like foreigners - those Ninevites - and what it means to struggle with the God who redraws the line of inclusion/exclusion. They have the capacity to realize the Hebrews preserved the story of Jonah not as a fairy tale or fable, but as a story that shows how God's mercy overwhelms us. Certainly this isn't a message for adults only, but when it is proclaimed to children it isn't easy.
Storytellers, beware! Those very features that make a story interesting and arresting also divert us from and cloud the life--and--death meaning they were originally meant to dramatize. When the stories we tell happened long ago, focus upon their theological intent and try not to imply something that will later lead to confusion or need to be relearned.
Biblical heroes represent another briar patch. The Bible is not the first place children go in order to find their heroes. Frequently heroes like Moses and Daniel are singled out for their heroic deeds (parting the Red Sea, escaping the fiery furnace, etc.). The attraction of super heroes wears thin as children are forced to be realistic about life. They serve a certain need for fantasy and escapism but that need is quickly in conflict with a need to succeed, to be liked, to do well. Living in a culture so saturated with superstars drawn from sports and music, everyone else seems irrelevant. Biblical heroes, as they are usually depicted, never disappoint because they are idealizations frozen in time. Sports heroes and music legends, on the other hand, attract a following because of the cultural values they embody, most of them not Christian values.
Nevertheless, biblical figures should not be dismissed. They should be presented with the same honesty they are portrayed in scripture. The "movers and shakers" of various biblical narratives know a thing or two about sin, doubt, shame, limitations, handicaps. As someone who has struggled with his own handicap, stuttering, I appreciate the heroes who persevered "in spite of." Saint Paul does speak of finishing the race, not being first. It is curious how Zacchaeus has been singled out among many New Testament figures to be popularized. Like Johnny Appleseed, he has become a natural part of childhood memories, because of a catchy song, colorful pictures, and the ease with which we identify with him. My hunch is that Zacchaeus has become an all--time favorite because children can identify with the feeling of being small and disliked. (Just try having them identify with "the woman with a flow of blood" or one of the several lepers.) Children - especially boys - identify with David the giant--killer for similar reasons. Though not very old or very big, David put the bully in his place. But herein lies the danger. Without a lot of additional help from adults, children get carried away with the image of the little man in a sycamore tree or the boy with a slingshot. (What better justification for having your very own weapon of destruction?) In the final analysis, identification is the name of the game here. These stories need to be fleshed out. On his rise to glory, Kind David is loved by all (except for Saul) and thereby falls in love with himself. Zacchaeus was also rich, powerful (a tax collector), and despised. His salvation is the story of how one lacking in stature (both literally and metaphorically) is "made tall" in the eyes of those who had despised him (and the line of who is "in" and who is "out" is redrawn). The very same heroes who are portrayed as bigger than life are the very same heroes who experience the grace of God when they are brought low (mostly by their own actions). There probably isn't a child or teenager alive who hasn't aspired to be a super hero, but I don't see them identifying with figures from the Bible. On the other hand, they know and will know loneliness, rejection, guilt, failure, doubt; I hope they will have heard of a story or two of someone who has also known these and was able to keep the faith (see the sermon "Breakfast Of Champions").
Very little irritates me more than the annual massacre of the story of the Good Samaritan. He has become the paradigm of virtue because he stopped to help one in need as others passed by on the other side. But do children realize the story turns on the fact that the Samaritan was a half--breed, both racially and religiously? This story was not originally heard as imperative ("Go thou and do likewise") but as indicative (the neighbor who loves more than me is a Samaritan!). The parable (not cute, moralistic anecdotes but stories of reversal) is Jesus' answer to the question about the limits of love (Who can be called my neighbor? Could a Samaritan be called "good"?). In the echo story included in this handbook, you will find the usual emphasis on helping someone who is hurt, but you will also find a frequently omitted "hook" that the Good Samaritan is a geek or whoever in your setting is the last person on earth you would want to be your neighbor. Children perceive this as a contradiction, yet it is this very contradiction that gives the story its impact and carries its radical message about the nature of Christian love. Although this may seem like a minor point, it makes a difference between a sentimental story of a do--gooder and a shocking account of a "loser" who did not pass by on the other side.
The biblical stories were not told and retold because of their historical content or the validity of their scientific explanations; they remained relevant and vital because they provided identity to the people who "passed them on" (tradition). As ones who are called to pass on that same tradition, we confront the danger of being literal and uncreative in order to be biblical, that is, telling the old, old story as if it were a body of information to be learned.
Participatory Communication
In summary, utilize leveling where everything flows in the same direction except for those instances where a conscious decision is made to be disruptive and suggestive in order to surprise the listener and turn his/her known world upside down. There is another aspect of communication we must take into account. Listen to the sage advise from one our country's best preachers, Fred B. Craddock.
In the first place, the Bible addresses the community of faith and is not a collection of theological and ethical arguments to persuade atheists or adherents of other religions.
Secondly, it is generally characteristic of the Bible not to repeat a story verbatim and from that story draw lessons and exhortations appropriate to the particular audience, but rather to retell the story in such a way that it properly addresses the hearers.
- Overhearing the Gospel, p. 66
As preachers we try to be engaging (as distinct from being interesting but that too). When we excite children we always engage adults, but the converse is not necessarily true. So how do we engage children? This book offers many suggestions but they can be summarized in the phrase "participatory communication." And that is what makes our task so difficult. We have mentioned the universal impression that the object is the way to captivate children. In Part II there are six different kinds of gospel-tellings: let's pretend, visual demonstrations, dramatic participation, pantomime and echo, storytelling, and puppets. While dramatic participation is the purest form of participatory communication, all the sermons have this as their aim.
Participatory communication is based upon the following Learning Pyramid.3
We know from practical experience that the greater an individual's involvement in a learning situation, the greater the degree of retention. For example, the reader is more likely to remember the information just presented if he receives the visual stimulus of the pyramid rather than just the stimulus of a long descriptive paragraph. Similarly, learning to ride a bicycle is a formative experience (in contrast to a learning experience) because it requires the total participation of the individual.
Because of the nature of their development, the span of concentration, and their exposure to mass media, children have a built--in screen against excessive verbal communication. In their early years they learn as much through touching, tasting, feeling, and observing as they do by hearing and seeing. Just consider the miracle of how children learn what is basic to their development: crawling, walking, trusting, a sense of "self," a sense of "other," what is "fair," etc. The complex ability to use language comes last and it too is not just about hearing words but hearing within a context. The use of "props" connected with words in order to make something more concrete is not the epitome of effective preaching. In fact, we never reach the apex until we approximate the experience of riding a bicycle or learning to swim. We are, after all, talking about Christian formation and transformation - the patterns of living that arise from our personal, firsthand experience of living for Jesus and Jesus living in us. Trying to explain something that is essentially experiential using abstract concepts which can only be communicated verbally is not acceptable. Participatory communication is at the other end of the spectrum: it is about doing, touching, tasting, feeling, smelling, seeing, and hearing in order to experience what will be serviceable. In the sermon "An Apple A Day," children do all of these and any words spoken are secondary. Gospel--tellings give us the freedom to do all kinds of crazy, fun stuff that is truly interesting because it is participatory.
The Broadway hit musical Godspell is such a delight because it presents biblical material (parables, sayings, narrative, and action) in a variety of fresh ways. I selected the sermons in this handbook because they also suggest a variety of ways to preach the gospel other than the usual stand--up monologue delivered with an object in hand. As ministers and teachers of children (as compared to adults), we have the distinct advantage of knowing immediately how effective we are. If hands and feet begin to fidget, and heads begin to turn and side--bar conversations spring up, then we know we have lost them because the communication has been a monologue. I was once surprised during a children's sermon when a boy of seven flashed me a particular sign we had learned in Vacation Bible School two weeks earlier (the thumb pointed horizontally and the index finger pointing vertically). At that time I was wondering if any of the eighty restless children were engaged. I knew then at least one had picked up the visual clue and I hoped he remembered the verse: Love God with all your heart (vertical finger) and your neighbor as yourself (horizontal finger).
Here is the appropriate place to take a critical look at the question/answer approach to participation. We ask a question and the children answer (the Socratic method). For some children - those who do well in school - this methodology will capture them and they will be participants in the gospel-telling. As Vince Lombardi, the successful football coach of the Green Bay Packers, said about passing: Three things can happen and two aren't good. First, when you ask questions, children begin to "go fish" for the right answer. Second, when you ask questions there is a high probability you will be sidetracked. If you are looking for a humorous moment, then go ahead and take your chances. What we must guard against is the over dependence upon questions and answers as the primary way we try to make communication participatory.
Most congregations have resources that certainly should be tapped. Among the members are artists, musicians, engineers, actors, and storytellers who are usually willing to assist in a special project. In a church in New Jersey, a high school shop teacher had put together a working robot which the minister used effectively for a number of children's sermons. Although such creativity is a great thing, we must make sure that it does not displace the gospel message itself.
