The Leen

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Remember this post? About the time Elanor and I got kicked out of a coffee shop?

Yeah.

It happened again. Only this time, we didn’t get kicked out of a coffee shop, we got kicked out of a church.

*jaw drops to floor*

I know! Me! Getting kicked out of church! CHURCH! Haha. It’s so absurd that it’s freaking hilarious.

Anyway, I can’t believe it’s happened again, that we got kicked out of somewhere because of Elanor. And, like last time, she wasn’t even being a problem. I was already paranoid about her being a disturbance when we’re out in public; this is going to send me right over the edge. Oh, well, that’s a topic for another post.

Anyway, here’s what happened.

We really loved our church in Seattle, and the one thing that made us nervous about this move was the fact that we didn’t know of a good church in this city. But a friend of a friend gave us a list of churches to try, so we checked out the websites and have been going down the list.

Before I get any further, I should add that Brett works on Sundays, so it’s been hard to go try churches. Occasionally, he’ll be able to get the time off on Sunday mornings, but not right away and not every week. So since this church has a Saturday night service, so we decided it was at the top of the list of churches to try.

This is the second church we’ve been to. It seemed to be a good fit for us doctrine-wise, and from what we could tell on the website it seemed to be right up our alley style-wise.

We knew going into it that there isn’t an official children’s ministry at the evening service, which is fine as Elanor will never go in the nursery anyway. We figured we’d stay together as a family during the singing, then I’d take Elanor out, hopefully to a place where I could still hear the sermon, once the message started.

We walked in and people greeted us in a friendly way. The atmosphere was great and we were both looking at each other and thinking that this might work. As we were trying to find a seat, a man approached us and asked us if we wanted to go to the family section, and we said okay, thinking it was an area of the sanctuary or maybe in the balcony.

About four flights of stairs later, we arrived in a room with a TV screen and some folding chairs, with a couple of pre-teens sitting in them.

Brett and I looked at each other. I asked the woman working in the room if the service was broadcast on the screen, and she said yes. Brett and I had an awkward exchange of asking each other what we were going to do, and then he said he was going to go back downstairs. After chatting for a minute with the lady working in the room, I said that we were going to go down and worship with Brett but we’d be back later, I was sure. She cheerfully said that she’d see us later, and Elanor and I walked out. I left our stroller and backpack there.

I went back down the stairs with Elanor and saw Brett sitting on the end of the back row. The first worship song was about halfway through at this point. I started to sit down, but before I could even sit down all the way, a woman stuck her head between our heads and said something like, “I’m going to have to ask you to take your daughter out of the service.”

At this point, Elanor had not made a noise. Not a single noise. She was in my arms and we had not even sat down. Literally, she could have been asleep for all the disturbance she was creating.

I said, “Excuse me?”

And she said, “We don’t allow children in the service. There’s a room upstairs.”

I answered, “Yes, I know, we’ve been up there already but we wanted to worship as a family.”

The conversation went on, and I don’t remember the exact words. Sometime around this point, Brett kind of flung his bulletin at her and said, “Fine, if she’s not welcome, we’ll leave.”

I handed Elanor to him and said I’d go get our stuff, and he went to stand in the doorway to the foyer.

I asked the woman why I had to take Elanor out.

She said something like, “Children distract people from being able to commune with the Lord.”

And I said, “Well, I want my daughter to learn how to commune with the Lord.”

She said, “Yes, and she can in the appropriate class.”

I said, “She won’t stay in one of the classes. All I was going to do was worship with her here, and that’s not okay?”

She kept reiterating things about how they don’t allow it and how children are distracting.

At this point, I could feel my blood beginning to really boil, and I could see Brett getting antsy, and this woman and I were standing in the sanctuary arguing, and things were getting heated, so I just basically told the lady to forget it and went upstairs to get our stuff.

As I was walking out, Brett said, rather loudly, “Sorry to be so DISTRACTING!” It was a shout, I guess – above regular talking but not a scream or anything. I doubt that the people in the front heard it. I cringed in the moment, but now I’m proud of him for saying something. (And I also think it’s pretty freaking hilarious. We both laughed for a long time last night when we remembered it: one of those giggle-pause-exchange glances-giggle-snicker-guffaw kind of tension-breaking laughs. It was great.)

Anyway, I was on my way upstairs then, so I didn’t hear what happened next. Apparently the woman came over to him and said, “Those aren’t very righteous words, are they?”

!!!!!!!!!!!!

Seriously? SERIOUSLY!??! Who SAYS that? Who judges a visitor, or anyone, really, like that?!? I mean, as my mom said, she would maybe say that to her child, and MAYBE to a very, very close friend, but certainly to no one else.

Anyway, their conversation continued on from that point and Brett said he couldn’t remember exactly what was said, but that the woman kept saying things to him like, “Jesus wouldn’t want you to say that,” and “Would Jesus want you to act that way?” He said she was self-righteous and stuck up and that she kept saying things to him about how Jesus didn’t approve of what he was doing.

Their interaction did culminate in him saying something to the woman that, well, let’s just say Jesus sure wouldn’t approve of it. I don’t, either, and I told him as much. But to be honest, in the situation, I don’t blame him one bit for saying to her. He has since said he feels really bad that he said it and has prayed about it, but like I said, I don’t blame him. He was pushed to the very edge by this woman. Who wouldn’t snap?

But then? (This is the best part.)

She called security on him.

She called the two bouncer-type ushers in from outside and told them to take him outside and not let him back in.

To church.

While he was holding Elanor.

There aren’t words. Well, okay, there are words that I want to type here but I won’t, because they are not really appropriate. Kind of like what Brett said to the lady. Yeah. So I will refrain. But SERIOUSLY?!

He said that the guys were really confused and asked him what was wrong. He told them that we’d been asked to take Elanor out of the service so we were leaving. One of them offered up the family room, and Brett said that we already knew about it but she won’t stay in a room unless one of us is there, and we wanted to sing together.

He said the guys kind of shuffled around awkwardly and didn’t know what to say.

So I came back downstairs to find him holding Elanor on the sidewalk. As we walked away, the bouncer/usher guys called after us, “I’m sorry, man!”

I felt like calling back, “Yeah, you should be!”

Anyone who knows me knows that as soon as Elanor made a peep, I would have gotten up and gone upstairs. I was armed with chocolate Cats Cookies for People in my pocket and I fully intended to take her up when the preaching started, anyway. All I wanted to do was to be able to fellowship, for only a few short minutes, WITH my husband and daughter, not in a stuffy upstairs room, watching a video feed with my husband several floors below, sitting alone among people he doesn’t know. If we want to sit in a room and watch a video of a church service, I can do that in the comfort of my own home. We need to meet other Christians, and experience corporate worship, which is why we are going to church in the first place.

But what’s been bugging us, too, is that if this no kids in the service thing is such an integral part of this church’s belief, then why in the world didn’t the woman in the “family room” say something to me? Why didn’t the usher who took us upstairs in the first place? Why didn’t the greeters?

At least we are Christians who won’t let this turn us away from Christ altogether. We will keep persevering and will eventually (I hope) find a church here, but what if we’d been unbelievers? How did that woman know? She didn’t. For all she knows, we could have been unbelievers who were treated with coldness, rudeness, and judgement in a situation that could have so easily been used to show Christ’s love. As a Christian, I’m ashamed she acted that way. It is completely against what I believe Christianity means, and against what Christ preached.

Supposedly, it’s also not in line with what this church believes, either. From the church’s own doctrinal statement on their website, I quote in italics:

We believe that grace, healing, love and service are essential components to any viable witness of Christ (Micah 6:8, James 5:14-16, John 13:34-35, Mark 10:43-45)
How was her witness of Christ at all filled with grace, healing, love, or service?  It was filled with condemnation, dissention, and judgement.

We believe that our posture towards the lost and unbelieving is to be one of humility and compassion, not mean-spirited or arrogantly judgmental even as we seek to embrace the Christian message with intensity and passion (Mark 10:42-45; I Peter 3:15).
I think mean spirited and arrogantly judgmental pretty much sum up how she behaved: the opposite of what this church claims to espouse. For all intents and purposes, we could very well have been lost and unbelieving. (And, anyway, shouldn’t any Christian treat everyone, not just the lost and unbelieving, with humility and compassion? I’m just sayin’.)

Our desire… to create an environment of worship where people can experience God’s love and tender mercies
I didn’t have a chance to experience God’s love and/or tender mercies. I didn’t even get to sing one note of the song. All I experienced was the self-righteousness judgement of a Pharisee-like woman.

Reaching out… to introduce others to the love, grace, and mercy found in Jesus Christ, through His sacrifice on the cross
Her actions contained no love, grace, or mercy. None.

Needs… helping to heal and restore the broken and the hurting
What if we had come there in crisis tonight, over our marriage or our relationship with God or over anything? What if we had been broken and hurting and seeking healing and peace? What then? All she did was shove us away from the healing love of God that they claim to uphold on their website.

I’m just appalled, really. Stunned. Angry. Flabbergasted. This was a church that seemed to be a good fit for us, doctrinally, musically, stylistically.

Listen, I’ll be the first to admit that some of my parenting philosophies are kind of extreme, but am I really that whackadoo to think it’s okay to have my child, who was content and quiet, in the service during the singing? Or, more to the point, is it really that out of left field to incorporate your child into your worship experience?

What were those pre-teen kids stuck up in that “family” room supposed to be doing? If they’re going to be expected to listen to the service over the TV screen anyway, then why in the world do they have to be banished to some weird room to do so? Why wouldn’t they just, I don’t know, SIT WITH THEIR PARENTS to hear the service? It doesn’t make any sense.

I mean, for goodness sake, at our church in Seattle, the entire back wall is lined with moms and dads holding or wearing babies, and standing and rocking, or pacing, or what have you. There are families whose preschool or early elementary age children sit on a blanket on the floor in front of the chairs and just read or color in the service. And parents are encouraged to bring their children into the service for worship and communion. Heck, there isn’t even Sunday school for kids over elementary school. They’re encouraged to attend church with their parents and to learn and worship together.

We asked each other last night what we’re supposed to do. Not go to church for a few years? Abandon our child to cry in a room with a stranger while we worship God? The God whom I believe I am supposed to model in my parenting? Well, would that God leave me, as His child, abandoned, terrified, and alone in a strange room to cry for His familiar, comforting presence because I supposedly need to learn, or I need to get over my extreme attachment to Him? No. He would come along side me and love me and reassure me with his presence. So I am not going to leave Elanor to cry. If she needs Brett or me nearby to feel safe, then I will provide that safe haven for her. She won’t feel that way forever; eventually she will be able to go to Sunday School or school or anywhere without me and feel fine. I know this. I am happy to let this happen in her own time, when she is ready. But until that day comes, I am not going to force her.

So Brett and I have just accepted the fact that she won’t stay in the nursery, and we’ve tried to make the best of the situation. The solution we’ve found so that we can still spend some time worshiping together and not distract people too much is that that Elanor will join us for singing and communion, and one of us will take her out (hopefully to a place where we can still hear the sermon) during the preaching. At least then we can fellowship together for a few minutes, and take communion together.

I’m going to write a letter to the head pastor at the church after I mull this over and pray about what to say for a couple of days. I know that at every church I’ve ever been involved with, the pastor would want to know if a visitor was treated this way, so I think it’s worth doing. I just need to know how to communicate my anger – ahem – righteously.

Also, there’s a part of both Brett and me that feels like we should go back after we hear from the pastor. Aside from this woman, everything else about the church seemed to be exactly what we’re looking for. So depending on what the pastor says and whether he even replies, we may try it again. It sounds crazy, I know, but we’re going to pray about it and see how God leads us. If we feel like He’s telling us to go back, then we will.

I’ll let you know if I hear back from the pastor. And if anyone out there knows of a good church in San Francisco, please let us know!