A few days ago, our youngest son, Sam, asked if we were going to church on Sunday. We haven’t gone to church on a Sunday morning in about three years (save for Christmas Eve service with extended family), so I was curious where this question came from.

Sam attends a non-denominational youth group-like gathering with some of his school buddies. Think: Young Life as we had in high school. While I have my reservations about organizations such as these, I encourage him to attend as I think it’s good for him to wrestle with his spirituality on his own terms at this age (he is 13). And it’s been a good way for him to build friendships in this new town, presumably with friends who will keep each other out of trouble! He mentioned that the guys from this group had talked about going to church on Sunday, so he asked, too.

We haven’t been shy about talking with and around our kids about our struggles with Christianity, Jesus, our faith, politics, and the church. It’s no secret to the kids how we feel, what we believe, and what we are concerned about. So Sam felt safe to ask about matters of religion and spirituality.

We decided to attend the Presbyterian church just down the street and around the corner. So in the most Norman Rockwell way, we dressed up and walked to church on this gorgeous sunny, and warm Sunday morning. The service was very traditional, but through the signage around the church and their webpage, we were assured this is a place that welcomes everyone, which is very important to us.

I felt calm and safe there. Contrasted to the last 30 years of my contemporary church experience with loud music, smoke machines, big screens, light shows, and goofy skits to appeal to “seekers”, today was filled with traditional liturgy, responsive readings, and familiar choral responses, like the Doxology. The sermon was a brief commentary on John 21 and the service ended with Handel’s Hallelujah Chorus led by a robed choir, a full orchestra, and a pipe organ. If you don’t get chills hearing parts of Handel’s Messiah, someone should check your pulse. It’s so beautiful!

While my experience for all of these years has been one of entering church seeking a feeling: a rousing sermon, moving worship music, a contemporary take on some traditional facet of our communal religious services; now I am seeking safety and comfort in the predictable and long-standing practices of the church. My dad’s family is all Catholic so I am familiar with some of the traditions of that faith. Say what you may about the Catholic church, tradition, and rites of passage have a comforting role in a chaotic world.

Sitting in the service this morning, Sam squeezed into the pew next to me, I gently rested my hand on his shoulder and whispered, “Thanks for nudging us to come today, buddy.”

Jesus called over a little child and said: “This is the truth: unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. In that kingdom, the most humble who are most like this child are the greatest. And whoever welcomes a child, welcomes her in My name, welcomes Me.” Matthew 18:3-5. Friends, it will always be the kids who save us. If you aren’t paying attention to what is happening in Tennessee, it’s time to tune in. Kids and young adults have the energy and passion to challenge and lead us. As I get older, I become more bitter, more complacent, and harbor less hope. It’s not the stodgy old folks in the state legislature that will save children from gun violence, it’s gonna be the children themselves.

Friends, watch the children. And be inspired. Let them lead. Cheer them on. And then let’s join them.

Disclaimer: My viewpoints are not necessarily reflective of my employer, or any local, regional or national organization that I belong to. As a matter of fact, I pretty much just speak for myself. Please keep that in mind.