Quiet in church, please.

   We are in Holy Week, and we look forward to celebrating the resurrection of Christ this weekend.  In the Eastern Orthodox Church there are services every day this week, most of which are movingly solemn.  The evening services are in dim lighting with candles and icons glittering throughout the church.  The services step us through the story of Jesus' betrayal, crucifixion, and burial.  On Wednesday we attend a healing service, for both body and soul, in which we are annointed with oil.  One other thing about the Orthodox Church... children of all ages attend the services.  There is no nursery where you can drop them off.  You can step out of the service for a bit with your child, but much of the time us parents attempt to attend the services with our children.  So, here we are on Wednesday night as Gospel readings are chanted, and there is Patrick talking and pointing and wanting to get down and run around.
   "Patrick, please be quiet," I whisper to him, "we have to use only our most quiet voices tonight, ok?  Quiet."  Patrick whispers back, "Quiet."  "That's right," I say, feeling proud that he understands and modeled an appropriate voice.  Then he wiggles out of my arms and walks past a group of people "Quiet!" he announces in a bright voice, "Quiet! Quiet!"  Ay ay ay, we step out.
   Later on, it is time to get in line to go up for our blessing, "What is that horrible smell!?" Vera asks in shock.  From where I stand I can only smell the incense, and I mostly hope she will try to stay focused on the service.  "Ummm..." replies Silas, "that would probably be my TOOT," he announces.  I try not to snicker or feel embarrassed at the change in the mood we've created.
   Patrick and I stand before Father Tom for our blessing.  We receive a cross of oil on different parts of our face and hands.  Patrick is accustomed to going up to see the priest for communion, so he opens his mouth wide like a little bird.  Father Tom crosses his forehead and Patrick cranes his neck high trying to eat whatever Father Tom has in his hand.  Father Tom crosses his cheeks and he again chases the oil with his wide open mouth.  Finally, Patrick gives up as he realizes he isn't being fed, and again I stifle my giggles so I can try to focus.
   When I had William, my first, adjusting to church with a wiggly baby/toddler was extremely challenging for me.  How was I supposed to focus or attend much of the service while he wanted to wander, babble, or pull over candle stands!?  When Vera came along it got even worse as her attention span was even shorter.  I felt like much of my church life was spent in the 'cry room' or outside on the front steps.  I desperately wanted a seasoned mom to give me the secret formula.  How do I do this!?  How do you teach a child to sit quietly for an hour and a half!?  How much should I step out because my child is being a distraction, and how much should I stay because we want to be a part of the service?  How much do you require of the child... and of the parish's patience!?  I know now that there isn't a formula.  I've had to change my expectations for what my spiritual life is like with small children.  It certainly isn't as quiet and meditative as I'd hoped for!  I've learned that the struggle is refining, humbling, and sacrificial.  So all of us parents of young children flow in and out and in and out of the services with our little ones.  We may only catch bits and pieces of the liturgy, but oh how thankful I am that the smell of incense lingers in my hair... it is as if our efforts of showing up stay with us and the grace of Jesus covers us whether we can sit quietly or are facing the struggle of bringing up a small child in the church.
   Well, Justin and I have decided to take turns bringing the older children to Thursday and Friday services... but even though Patrick was trying to eat his annointing and Silas announced his bodily functions on Wednesday night, I'm so glad they were there to be blessed and worship with us.

   This picture was taken after Pascha (Easter) in 2015... but that tall boy there used to be my first little toddler in church, and now he can't wait to go to the evening services this week.  Whether you are an Orthodox family reading this or have your own difficult situation with a young child, this season won't last forever... press on.