Yesterday I was signed up to be an usher. That means we greet people when they come in, give them a bulletin, and then pass the offering at the end of the service. Sometimes kids help with passing the offering, so I'd asked The Boy if he wanted to help. He did. I think it's great that our church allows kids to be involved in an important way, and I like the message they get that they're a valuable asset.
Near the end of the service I went to his class to get The Boy. Since our church is small, he and BeYoYo are in the same class. I cracked the door open to call The Boy to come, but he didn't hear me the first time. I opened it bigger and said his name a little louder, and he came. I waved to his teacher to let her know. Then BeYoYo spotted me and said "I go! I go!" I told him I'd be back for him, but he cried and cried and screamed, thinking I'd never come back for him and I'd take his brother home to live and he'd have to go live in an orphanage and eat slop. Big alligator tears overflowed from his eyes and dripped down his chubby cheeks and he wailed incoherently. Not wanting him to feel abandoned, and not having time to comfort him or clear up the situation, I told his teacher he could just come too. He stopped crying as soon as he was in my arms, but continued to do some sobbing breaths for good measure, so as not to let anyone think he was manipulative.
I went back to meet the other ushers. We were standing outside in the narthex, and someone was making announcements. Or maybe prayers, I don't know. I explained to The Boy what we were going to do. He had a storm trooper of sorts he'd brought from his class, and he sat on the floor to play with it while we waited. I held the offering plate, and BeYoYo gestured toward it and said "I eat!" I told him it wasn't food, and showed him the empty red felt bottom.
Then The Boy asked to hold it. I complied, handing it to him while I followed BeYoYo around the narthex asking him to use his inside voice. He has no idea what that means. The Boys rolled around on the carpet, hugging and not-quite-wrestling in the floor. The other ushers watched the boys' show of physical prowess, likely reflecting on the times when their own kids were younger and acted like fools at church. I smiled my apologetic smile. BeYoYo said "I go home." I asked if he wanted to go back to his class and play, and he said no. I asked him if he wanted to take his hat off before we went in the sanctuary, and he said no. Actually he said "NO!" in a way that let me know he'd have been fine with it if it were his idea, but since I suggested it, it wasn't going to happen.
I asked The Boy to take his storm trooper out of the offering plate, and he said "Awww, it was hot lava! He was trying to escape." My apologies to you and the storm trooper and Jesus.
When the prayernouncements were finally over we opened the door to walk into the sanctuary. The usher on my side and I made eyes that said who was going on which side. BeYoYo became nervous and suddenly wanted to be held. "Up pease!" he shrieked. I have a sling on my left arm, but held him in my right. His hat perched upon his head. The Boy held the offering plate and walked beside me as we processed down the aisle. Feeling hot eyes on us, I made a note to myself not to invite these people to help with this again unless I have two working arms.
The Boy and BeYoYo and I walked around the front of the church to the right side by the windows. I showed The Boy where to start passing the plate, and receiving the one that was being passed in our direction. He was intent and engaged with his mission, and BeYoYo clung to me like a baby monkey. Then BeYoYo saw our friend Jill sitting near the front and he said "I get down! I sit Ji-ull." I released him, as he was sliding down my body like a firehall pole. He ran toward Jill. You'll remember her from this post. I had to assume he'd be okay. The Boy and I had to turn slightly to get a few rows of people in the side alcove. That's when things went awry. The Boy passed the plate to the first row of congregants, and then he noticed something shiny in the window and ran off, abandoning his mission.
I received the plate and passed it on to the next row. I whisper-yelled to the child in the window to come with me, and he ignored that as he looked at some small flags placed in a vase there. Who was he standing beside but the mom of four who had just spoken about balance. Then BeYoYo appeared beside him, apparently distracted and lost on his way to find Jill three feet away. The two of them were enamored by these flags. Even a mother spider with her eight arms could not keep up with these children who went off in one direction, and the offering plate that was going off in another. In a split second I had to decide whether to abandon the offering or the children. They were no longer on the same path to the back of the sanctuary where I could juggle them all. Knowing Jesus said "Let the children come to me" but unsure where Jesus stood on the passage of offering plates, I decided to ignore the children dismantling the centerpiece in the window, and to continue with the offering. The show must go on and whatnot.
As I continued walking I saw Jill get out of her seat and go attend to my children. Holy God in heaven IT TAKES A VILLAGE and there are SAINTS AMONG US. I made a note to myself to not invite these people to help with this again until they are grown. Now I'm passing the plate to my friend E.J., who also loves my children. She was also starting to get up to help, but saw that Jill had beaten her to the punch. She whispered to me "We're talking back here and we can't believe you're doing this in heels too!" Once I'd made it to the back of the sanctuary, I scanned up front to see if I could see The Boy. He was standing in the outside aisle, clearly looking for me. And he was holding a small Mexican flag. I do not know why.
I motioned for him to come back and join me, and he broke into a full sprint down the outside aisle, waving his flag the whole way. I tried to sign to him to slow down, but he was all Cinco de Mayo and he was too thrilled. By this point people in the back of the church were unable to hide their laughter. They had the joy, joy, joy, joy down in their hearts, I suppose. So The Boy gets to me, and presents the flag he's stolen from the centerpiece, as well as one of those clear marble things that are flat on one side that people use as vase fillers. And then BeYoYo appears, I'm not even sure where from. Surely Jill brought him to me, but it's all a blur.
So at our church once the offering is collected, the ushers carry it back down to the front of the sanctuary and deliver it to the pastor for a ceremonial prayer. I had one arm in a sling, a child on the opposite hip, and I whispered to The Boy that it was time to take the offering to Mr. Joel. He balanced the plate in one hand as he withdrew his marble from his other hand and placed it in the offering plate. All the parallels to theology came through my head- that offering is our way of giving back to God what is already his, that we bring what's important to us to offer, that we lay down the crystals the world tells us will help us balance. I was proud of him and basked in the teachable moment.
We waited for the music's cue and headed back down the aisle again. He nearly spilled the plate a few times, but we made it back down to the alter, and he thrust the offering plate at Joel. Joel took it graciously, said his words, and we ushered back out. The ushers all ushed back to the back office where we turn the money in. Before one of the other ushers put it in an envelope, The Boy said "Wait!" and reached back in and grabbed the marble out. So much for laying it all down. It IS really hard to give things up permanently, even if you know they weren't yours to start with. I confirmed that he didn't remove any change or bills from the plate, and everyone witnessed.
I sent the Boys back to their class as I went back in the sanctuary for the last of worship. I was already tired from that offering adventure. I slid into my seat beside Jill and she didn't even say anything. No laughter, no anger, no looking for an apology, not even a smile. It was business as usual. Because that's what a village does. If I hadn't shown up with my chaos and my deficits in patience and organization (and arms), these friends of mine wouldn't have been able to share their excess of patience and kindness and I wouldn't have felt their love. And suddenly I understood that message of balance.
Again I'm presented with an opportunity to learn from my children. When we got home I noticed BeYoYo had a sticker on his back of a picture of Jesus. And he was upside down. He totally gets us.
No comments:
Post a Comment