Note: This was originally published for the Holston Annual Conference Daily Devotional on Friday, November 12, 2021.
I am not a musician. I took piano lessons for a few years in middle school. I learned to play the recorder in Fourth Grade. I even really like and value music. But it is neither an artistic medium in which I can express myself nor an avenue of ministry that God has given me. The last thing I want to do is stand on a stage and sing.
My two daughters are the opposite. Every Sunday, the prelude to our service involves my two little girls running, jumping, and singing on our stage. Some people do pipe organs; we do Frozen.
My church is incredibly gracious, warm-hearted, and kind. Rare have been the complaints about my kids being, well, kids. But while I hope this is the general disposition of our churches (didn’t Jesus say to let the little children come to him?), I’ve heard enough to know this isn’t always the case.
All of this brings to mind a very, very important question: where do children fit in our churches? Even more broadly, where do children fit in society? The church is, after all, meant to be the foretaste of the coming Kingdom and the new humanity God has redeemed in his world.
If we just look at what we actually do, not what we say, we might learn that kids fit in the nursery, a youth group, or children’s church. It’s very popular now to label these areas as “Next Generation Ministries”. Now, please don’t misread me: all of these things are good and have their place. But our children and young people are not the “next generation.” They’re one of the current generations. And as my case study, I’m citing this story today (I know, it's 9 verses, just hang on!):
“Eli’s sons were scoundrels; they had no regard for the Lord. Now it was the practice of the priests that, whenever any of the people offered a sacrifice, the priest’s servant would come with a three-pronged fork in his hand while the meat was being boiled and would plunge the fork into the pan or kettle or caldron or pot. Whatever the fork brought up the priest would take for himself. This is how they treated all the Israelites who came to Shiloh. But even before the fat was burned, the priest’s servant would come and say to the person who was sacrificing, “Give the priest some meat to roast; he won’t accept boiled meat from you, but only raw.” If the person said to him, “Let the fat be burned first, and then take whatever you want,” the servant would answer, “No, hand it over now; if you don’t, I’ll take it by force.” This sin of the young men was very great in the Lord’s sight, for they were treating the Lord’s offering with contempt. But Samuel was ministering before the Lord—a boy wearing a linen ephod. Each year his mother made him a little robe and took it to him when she went up with her husband to offer the annual sacrifice. Eli would bless Elkanah and his wife, saying, “May the Lord give you children by this woman to take the place of the one she prayed for and gave to the Lord.” Then they would go home. And the Lord was gracious to Hannah; she gave birth to three sons and two daughters. Meanwhile, the boy Samuel grew up in the presence of the Lord.” (1 Samuel 2:12–21, NIV)
The boy, Samuel, had been dedicated to the Lord from birth. He spent his formative years under Eli, the old priest, at the Tabernacle in Shiloh. Now, Eli also had two sons. The appraisal between the two parties – Eli’s sons and Samuel couldn’t be more different. What I find fascinating is that all three were raised in the Tabernacle. All three looked to Eli as a Father figure. All three were young men who grew up around ministry.
But Eli’s sons were “scoundrels”. Eli’s sons “had no regard for the Lord.” Eli’s sons were entitled consumers made to believe that the entire enterprise of worship centered around their preferences.
Samuel, however, is a contributor. And, unlike Eli’s sons, Samuel “grew up in the presence of the Lord.” Eli’s sons are killed in battle in what is determined as an act of judgment upon the House of Eli. Samuel becomes the last Judge of Israel, a deliverer and prophet who anoints David as the unifying King.
So, what gives? How did they turn out to be so different, Samuel and Eli’s sons? While there are, perhaps, many answers, I’ll offer one take from the text: “But Samuel was ministering before the Lord—a boy wearing a linen ephod.”
Our children and young people are coming of age in a world that is ripping itself apart. Anxiety and depression among our youngest generations are at alarming levels. And in a world where they are constantly told to sit on the sidelines and wait for their turn in life while they are glutted with YouTube and TikTok and Instagram, should we expect anything different?
So, for those of us in roles as Parents or Pastors or Parishioners in the church: how can we raise more Samuel’s? How can we raise up our children in the presence of the Lord? Here’s my working theory: let them wear their linen ephod and minister before the Lord. We must create a culture in our churches where everyone can bring something to the table. We must raise them up as contributors, not consumers.
Under Eli and his sons, Israel was decimated and the Ark of the Covenant was captured by Philistines. The future was bleak. But God raised up Samuel and a generation later, Israel reached its pinnacle of health, vitality, and prosperity. Revival is a steady process, like a great wave building over time before it crashes upon the sandy shore. And like every attendee at a Football game this fall will tell you, the wave starts in the student section. May we raise up our children like Samuel, a boy wearing a linen ephod.
Prayer: Father, give us eyes to see the young people in our lives as valuable contributors to the church. Forgive us for the times we push them off to the sidelines and ignore their voice in the name of rational pragmatism. Jesus, shepherd us and our churches as we seek to cultivate communities of disciples that reflect your Way. Holy Spirit, may all of the children in our lives grow in wisdom, stature, and favor before God and all people. Amen.
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