Jesus Loves Me

If you’ve read my blog for any length of time, you will know I love church.  I grew up with a fairly diverse church going background.  As you know from a recent post, I went to a small country church with the rest of my extended family from the time I was born until third grade, which was when my mom stopped working weekends, and we started going to a church in our hometown.  I went to Norwood United Methodist from third grade until college, and it was probably the biggest church in a very small town, but I also attended the Baptist church down the street for youth group and weekday AWANA (also mentioned in former posts).  My grandparents, however, were Catholic, so when we visited them, I’d often end up in those services.  My mom was raised Catholic, and some of the traditions – especially the reverence the Catholics have for sacraments – she taught me.  I’ve attended three churches since moving away from home to go to college, and each time I transferred, I moved to a larger more contemporary church.  And you know what is crazy?  I love every church I’ve attended equally.  I have especially fond memories of each of them.  I know there are problems with “organized religion.”  I have worked intimately in several of the churches I’ve attended, so I know that what goes on behind the scenes at a church is not always pretty or God honoring, but I’ve learned to have grace in those situations.  After all, a church is just a collection of imperfect people most of whom are trying to do their best, and sometimes their best is a perfect window to the character of God.  A few weeks ago, during an Easter service, I witnessed one of those moments when a couple of ladies gave the congregation a wonderful view into the character of God.  It will become one of those memories that will always remind me why I love church so much.

 

My family doesn’t have a consistent Easter tradition.  Some years, I’ve been in Greenville, and some years I’ve gone with them to the beach. One year, when Joe and Marianne were living in Waco, I visited them for Easter.  The week before Easter, we always have a discussion about what we will be doing for the holiday.  This year, JT, Grace, Andy, and I decided to meet at Mom and Dad’s on Saturday, have dinner as a family, and attend the Easter service together at their church on Sunday morning.  My parent’s church is the church we attended the most growing up.  It is packed with so many special memories, and (had the other details worked out) it was where I ideally wanted to be married.  The church has two services most Sundays, but for Easter, they had a combined service.  It was awesome to walk into the sanctuary and see so many familiar faces and then to sit between my brother and husband on a pew in “our section.”

 

As soon as we sat down, I noticed a family carrying a baby in a christening gown.  Immediately, I poked my brother and nodded, “They must be baptizing the new baby today.”  This family is adorable.  I don’t know them well outside of church, but I’ve had so much fun watching them “grow up.”  When they first started coming to our church, I only remember them having two children.  Over the years, we’ve watched as they’ve added to their family to the point that this new baby makes six, I believe.  They sit on one of the front pews, they all have beautiful strawberry blonde hair, and the younger children look like little stair steps – which is why I’m struggling to remember if there are 5 or 6 children in total!  The mom has done everything from children’s sermons, to mission trip organizing, to VBS, to youth group.  They are that family, and I just love going to church and seeing them on that front pew.

 

They had planned the Easter service to baptize the newest little girl, and I noticed in the program that the youngest brother was going to be singing “Jesus Loves Me” following her baptism.  How precious.  The baptism was beautiful. I know there are denominational differences concerning baptizing babies, but I still love to see that ceremony.  I love to see these parents committing to raise that child to love Jesus, and I love hearing the regular members of the congregation pledge to support the child in her walk with Christ.  I love the sense of community that exists in the room during the sacrament of baptism.

 

When the rest of the family had taken their seats following the child’s christening, the youngest brother positioned himself at the microphone to sing his song for his sister.  I’m not sure of his age, but I remember him crawling around in diapers in the church nursery.  I couldn’t believe that he looked to be 8 or 9.  Where in the world does time go??  He started the song, and immediately, he was going faster than the pianist.  The pianist stopped playing, and started again to try to catch up to him, but it wasn’t working.  Over taken by nerves, and standing in front of a congregation of 250-300 people with his entire family on the front pew, the boy put his head down on his music stand and started to cry.  My stomach sank for him, but before anyone could blink, the head music director was running down from the choir loft and snapping her fingers at the praise band leader to get up, too.  These ladies, Kim and Patty, approached from opposite directions and within 10 seconds were standing on either side of this child.  I saw Kim whisper to him nod to the pianist, and together she and Patty started singing again, “Jesus Loves Me.”  After half the first verse, this sweet boy was choking back his tears and had joined in, and by the end of the song, the entire congregation was singing.  When it was over, I know there was not a dry eye in the room (at least among the women!) and the congregation gave him a standing ovation. 

 

I couldn’t help but notice the significance in the action following the vow the congregation had made for the boy’s sister.  When we baptize a child in a Methodist church, we are committing as parents and a congregation to do everything we can to support the child so that one day he or she will accept Jesus for their personal savior.  Kim and Patty saw a child in need – a child who 8 or 9 years ago they had pledged by their prayers and presence to love like Jesus would.  They put actions to their vow by joining this boy in song.  They showed him that not only did Jesus love him, but they loved him, too.  They helped him feel that love, and the congregation did the same when we added our voices to the melody and stood to clap at the end. 

 

Moments like these are why I love church.  As people, we don’t always get it right, but when we get it right in our Father’s house no less, I want to be there.  I want to see it and feel it and taste it.  When Kim approached the child, I thought for sure she was going to tell him he could stop singing – that it wasn’t a big deal that he finish, that everyone would understand.  What I love about her actions was that she did the exact opposite.  She told him that he could finish, that he had what it took, that he would make it, and that she would do it with him.  Just as she had pledged in her vow at his baptism, she came alongside him, walked with him, and helped him through.  She and Patty showed him a piece of Jesus who does the same with us.  He doesn’t tell us that we can give up, that we don’t have to finish, that everyone will understand. Instead, he tells us that we can do it, we can make it, and he will walk with us.  I don’t know if this boy has accepted Jesus as his own, yet.  I don’t know if he has already made a decision to follow the Lord for himself, but on Easter Sunday he, and everyone else, was given a beautiful picture of what a relationship with Christ looks like.