By Clifford E. Denay Jr.
I’m sitting in row seven watching Dr. Bob, our senior pastor, give today’s sermon for children. He raises a box and squints his eyes as though he is trying to figure out what is in it. Now most of us, children and adults alike, love guessing games. So, Dr. Bob calls his weekly children’s talk “What’s in the Box?” Talk about mystery. The kids love it. So do the adults. Especially me.
Next, Bob invites all the children to come to the front of the sanctuary. Sometimes a few brave adults join them, but not today. The children sit in a semi-circle with Dr. Bob as the master of ceremonies. Then I listen for the same question the eager ears have waited for.
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“Who’s got the box this week?” Bob’s intonation makes the question sound brand new, exciting, fun and playful.
The gift-wrapped and much-loved shoe box is proudly presented by last week’s lucky kid. You see, children’s hands fly skyward each time he asks for a volunteer to hide something mysterious for the following Sunday’s service. So, the child who presents the “Sabbath-day secret” each week beams with the powerful knowledge of the sealed box. All eyes are fixed on the treasure cradled in his/her arms.
Even the adults lean forward in their seats, straining for a peek. I’m usually on the edge of my seat, too. Dr. Bob begins with a few observations designed to exaggerate his attempts to figure out what lies hidden under the lid. He lifts the box, shakes it and sniffs at it.
“It’s not too heavy. It doesn’t rattle when you shake it. I can’t smell anything. Nope. It’s not making any noise.”
Then, he stirs in questions: “What could be in here? Is it something you eat? Can you wear it, like a mask or a hat or clothes? Is it dangerous? Hmmmmm.”
I listen as the children answer each question with a chorus of “yes-s-s-s-s…!” or “no-o-o-o-o-o…!” And laughter. Lots of laughter. Giggling. Joy. One child jumps to his feet, shifts from one foot to another, anticipates the revelation. I feel the tension building. The grown-ups lean forward, chuckling, pretending they’re not being taken in by the ruse. But, they are.
Then, every soul in the congregation is fully engaged. Bob knows he’s got every child and adult in the palm of his hand. I listen to him launch into another extemporaneous sermon that he “hand builds,” without missing a beat, around the soon-to-be- revealed object. As always, his message seems to ignite everyone’s spirit this morning. Every child and child-at-heart is captured, “boxed in” with the word of God spoken by this precious pastor.
Is this children’s sermon, again, for this child of God? I wonder. I ask myself the same question each Sunday. And today’s answer is the same as always – yes. Dr. Bob’s message is for me, too. It’s for me every time.