Little Theologians

I am really loving Trinity Presbyterian Church. I love the liturgy, and the pastor, and the people, and the size. I love the hiking group and the good food during fellowship hour. I loved working on a Habitat house a few weeks ago. I love being part of a new young adult group.

Many of the members, especially the most active ones, are very thoughtful Christians. By that I mean that they think a lot about their faith and about theology, something (as I've mentioned before) I really missed in Guatemala. The "adult discussion group" (aka Sunday school) discusses topics ranging from the current model for prisons in the US and how that relates to our Judeo-Christian tradition, to questions of ethics of medical insurance, to the relationship between Church and State in the third century. The classes are interesting, and the people have been very quick to include Vic and me in the class.

But for some reason, since coming back from Guatemala I just haven't had quite the energy for the theological discussions that I used to love. I still go to the class and am interested, but I usually just listen. Then a few weeks ago I was invited to go to the children's Sunday school class to meet the kids of the church. Since Trinity is a smaller congregation, all of the elementary school-aged kids are in one Sunday school class. The first Sunday I went there were about 7 kids, from age 6 to 11. I thought "Oh, this will be nice. I can hang out with the kids, eat a snack, maybe even color, and not have to deal with all of those big theological questions."

Wrong.

At the beginning of each class each child lights a candle and then they light candles for the friends who couldn't come to Sunday school that day. One of the girls, who is about ten (and is soon going to shave her head to help raise money for cancer research), asked if we could light a candle for her friend's dog who had been killed by a stray dog.

She looked thoughtful for a second, then said very deliberately, "If God is good..." (and I'm thinking "oh no") "...then why do bad things happen?"

The teacher responded with something that was not very re-assuring to me, and I doubt it was to this little theologian sitting cross-legged on the carpet in her white tights, either. She said something like she wasn't sure why, but that God is always with us, no matter what. Not quite the answer any of us is really looking for when we ask that question.

***

The next week at church I went back to the children's Sunday school class, and it was a little more what I was looking for. We talked about praying, but we didn't have any major theological snares this time.

And then, in the service, Heidi called up one of the younger girls right before the prayers of the people to share with the congregation the prayers she had made the Sunday before. The kids had gotten clay in Sunday school, but many of them hadn't been able to finish their projects so they carried the unformed clay to church with them. During the prayers of the people, six-year-old Miriam began sculpting the prayer requests she heard...

For the homeless, for the joy of a new healthy baby, for the dog who was killed by the stray dog, for food for the hungry, for people suffering from the pain and uncertainty of cancer.

Miriam sculpted a homeless person, a baby, two dogs (the one who was killed and the one who killed), bread, someone with cancer.

Then the following week, when Heidi invited her to share her prayers with the congregation, Miriam offered them to us by telling what each of them was, then placing them on the communion table and inviting people to take one home.

And I thought I would go to the children's Sunday school to just do some arts and crafts and avoid messy theology. Instead, they make simple and profound prayers from the craft supplies and ask the very questions I am trying to run away from.