Made to Attend Church
So you don’t attend church today because you were forced to attend as a child? Such is the common complaint that I hear when the subject of church comes up with the unchurched. I understand. You were made to go. The only drug problem that your parents had was that they “drug” you to church. You didn’t particularly enjoy it, except for the Easter candy, the Christmas program, or maybe catching the eye of that pretty girl.
But the long, boring sermons were punishing. The Sunday School teacher thought you had a rotten attitude, and publicly called you out. You didn’t like wearing dressy clothes. And when the preacher talked, it seemed that he was looking right at you. You couldn’t stand singing in children’s choir and the list goes on.
So now, you refuse to attend. Furthermore, you resent the fact that your parents made you attend and have stalwartly determined NOT to require your children to attend church on the basis of allowing them to “make their own decisions.”
I understand. After all, that the church has been viewed as being too religious, judgmental, packed with hypocrites, and besides all that, they seem to want your hard-earned money.
While it may be true that the church, in general, has needed an overhaul in some ways, I would like to challenge you to consider another angle.
My parents not only made me attend EVERY church service (minimum of 3 days a week plus revival services), including extra youth service and prayer meetings, but they also made me carry my Bible. I brought an offering to Sunday School that came out of my allowance and had to memorize Bible verses. If we misbehaved in a church service, it might be that we were called out from the pulpit, or a “(h)usher” would attend our side. Rain or shine, we were in church!
But please indulge me a bit longer. Perhaps my parents would have received a visit from DHS if it were known of the other cruelties that they imposed upon my young life. You see, they frequently “forced” me to do other things that I definitely would have chosen not to do if I had a choice. Let me give you the short list:
My cruel and inhumane parents “forced” me to do other things that I definitely would have chosen not to do if I had a choice:
- “Forced” me to attend school. Not just 3 times a week, but every weekday.
- They made me go to the Dentist, the Doctor, the family reunions, and the mall to by new shoes.
- I had to visit the nursing home when they went and be fawned over by old ladies who smelled funny.
- If I got in trouble at school, I usually got in worse trouble when I came home.
- When I got home, there were certain things I was required to do call “chores.”
- They forced me to do the homework that came with school.
- We were required to sit down as a family every evening for a meal in a room where there was no TV
- There were the gross and disgusting things call vegetables that we were required to wash down before we could have any desert.
- We were encouraged to go outside and play with the dog on nice days.
- We were required to take baths, brush our teeth, and clean up after ourselves.
- Before we left for school, we had to make our beds.
- We were required to make peace when we had disagreements with our siblings. Like brush my teeth. Take a bath. Eat my vegetables. Be nice to my siblings. Share. Lift the lid. Close when finished. Tuck your shirt in. Get out of bed. Get a haircut. Get good grades. Get an attitude adjustment. Get a job. Wow! Come to think of it, I guess my parents were downright abusive! Right.
Thank you, mom and dad, for being so harsh. Your tough love made me the man I am today.
"I'll Love You Forever"
We read I'll Love You Forever to our sons when they were growing up. We made up our own tune to the song, "I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living, my baby you'll be."
It's hard to remember those days in the rocking chair, reading it over and over to them, without getting tearful.
It turns out that many people can relate. The book's author, Robert Munsch, reports that it has sold 15,000,000 copies. His publisher didn't want to publish it because it didn't seem like a traditional children's book.
If just reading the title gets you choked up with personal memories, you may not want to read the true story behind the book. Munsch says that the song came first:
I made that up after my wife and I had two babies born dead. The song
was my song to my dead babies. For a long time I had it in my head and
I couldn’t even sing it because every time I tried to sing it I cried. It was
very strange having a song in my head that I couldn’t sing (ibid.).
He later built a story around the song, and the rest is history for millions of parents and their children. I imagine Gary, Dale, and Carl would tell you this is their favorite book from childhood. It's certainly ours.
Isn't it interesting that such a beautiful, intense love story surrounds something so heartbreaking and tragic? Out of the author's pain and sorrow, this incredible, enduring legacy was created. Knowing the backstory only intensifies the power of the words in the book.
Have you ever looked at the story of the cross in that light? From the first page to the last, Scripture teaches us that God loves us, His children. He cares for us, protects us, and wants us to live with Him forever.
But there is a backstory. In fact, it goes back to eternity. There, the Godhead made a plan to make sure we could live with Him forever. But it would require His Son dying for us in order to make it happen. Discovering that should melt our hearts. What love! It's a forever love, one that can make us the best we could ever be.
Here is God's message throughout Scripture: "I have loved you with an everlasting love; Therefore I have drawn you with lovingkindness" (Jeremiah 31:3). In other words, "I'll love you forever."
From "Daddy" to "Dad"
Do you remember when you stopped calling your dad, "Daddy"? I do.
I was about 6 or 7 years old and I remember being outside with my dad. He began a conversation with our next door neighbor, which I interrupted by calling out "Daddy!" Up until then, I had always called my dad, "Daddy."
But when I called out, "Daddy!" he gave me a funny look and he and the neighbor just chuckled, like that was baby talk. I never called him "Daddy" again.
The Aramaic/Hebrew word "Abba" is the equivalent of our English "Daddy." But unlike our relationship with our earthly father, our heavenly Father will never chuckle at us for calling Him Daddy. That's because we will never outgrow our child-like dependence on Him.
Quite the opposite. The more we grow in our faith the more we will realize our total dependence on our heavenly Father. That's why God loves it when we call Him "Abba." That's who He is and who He will always be to us.
"Because you are his sons, God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, the Spirit who calls out, "Abba, Father" (Galatians 4:6).