"Children, Go"? Children's Liturgy of the Word and the Sunday Assembly by David A. Stosur, Ph.D.

Academic Dean/Assistant Professor of Liturgical Studies Saint Francis Seminary, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, USA "Blow the trumpet in Zion . . . call a solemn assembly; gather the people. Sanctify the congregation; assemble the aged; gather the children, even the infants at the breast." Joel 2: 15-16 [NRSV] "Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs. Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it." Mark 10:14-15 [NRSV] Children, go - to hear God's word; Children, go - to hear good news! (1) The practice of celebrating a separate Liturgy of the Word for children during Sunday eucharistic celebrations is becoming increasingly popular in many U.S. parishes. It is quickly becoming the favorite answer to the question: What can we do to make children's experience of liturgy more meaningful? Until this recent development, the only groups ever dismissed from the Sunday assembly were those whose membership either had not yet been accomplished (catechumens), or had been so seriously compromised as to present a counter-sign to the community's fundamental baptismal unity (canonical penitents). Before we congratulate ourselves too quickly on having found the solution to the "problem" of children at worship, perhaps our tradition should motivate us to ask whether the presuppositions behind this practice have received adequate scrutiny. Laudable Intentions It is no wonder that parishes are turning to the celebration of separate word liturgies for children, since it addresses many pressing and significant needs. Catechetically, children are offered the opportunity to hear the scriptures proclaimed and reflected upon at their own level of intellectual, emotional and faith development. Distinct homilies, reflections or dialogues can take up subjects suited to the children's needs, interests, and ritual selfexpression. Children are provided (we presume) with a more satisfying liturgical experience, especially in parishes where a presider seems to have difficulty relating with them. The frequent boredom and "antsiness" produced by enduring an hour-long worship service is also alleviated for the children, who have the opportunity to channel their energy in positive ways: stretching their legs in procession, regrouping with friends and others their own age, hearing the Word directed especially to them, singing psalms and acclamations they enjoy in response, confessing their faith and praying for concerns particular to them. The contrast with their otherwise inevitable (we presume) restlessness and complaining, which so distracts the more mature members of the congregation -- not least among whom are parents desiring to pray in peace! -- is rather striking. One might quibble over how well a given parish implements the practice as described in the

Introduction to the Lectionary for Masses with Children (ILMC), but for the most part, youngsters, adults, pastors and religious educators are very happy with it. The approach unquestionably meets a number of valid needs -- catechetical needs, the prayer needs of adults, children's need for ritual "at their level," etc. A fundamental question nonetheless remains: what does the practice signify about the Sunday assembly? Who are these children and adults -- that is, the Church, and what is the liturgical assembly for? The Liturgical Assembly: Sign of Unity in Christ The Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, no. 7, asserts that the liturgy accomplishes its twofold purpose of human sanctification and divine glorification because it is the action of Christ united with the action of his Body, the Church. Christ is present, not only in the elements of bread and wine and in the person of the minister, but also in his Word and in the assembly of those gathered in his name. The U.S. bishops' document on preaching in the Sunday assembly recognized that this sacramental unity of Christ and the Church is a unity in diversity, with its origin in baptism: The Eucharistic assembly that gathers Sunday after Sunday is a rich and complex phenomenon. Even in parishes that are more or less uniform in ethnic, social, or economic background, there is great diversity: men and women, old and young, . . . the fervent and the halfhearted, the strong and the weak. Such diversity is a constant challenge to the preacher, [whose] words can often be heard as excluding one or the other segment of the congregation. This diversity should not blind us to another, even greater reality: the unity of the congregation. This assembly has come together because its members have been baptized into the one body of Christ and share a common faith. This faith, though rooted in a common baptismal identity, is expressed in ways that extend from the highest levels of personal appropriation and intellectual understanding to the most immature forms of ritualism and routine. And yet, to a greater or lesser degree, it is faith in Jesus Christ that is common to all the members of a community gathered for Eucharist. (2) It is difficult to see how dismissing children from the assembly serves this unity. If the rationale is that this approach acknowledges diversity, and that in any case the kind of celebration described in the ILMC presupposes that all the elements necessary for the (now no longer "whole") assembly's liturgy of the Word will be there for the children as well, the question arises: Why only for children? Why not a distinct Word liturgy for seniors, or singles, or women, or the physically challenged, or those who can donate no more than two dollars to the weekly collection? All of these groups have legitimate concerns and needs that could be addressed by means of a special homily, yet we wouldn't think of dismissing them from the assembly. "Separate but equal" forgets that "the whole is greater than the sum of the parts"; however one slices it, segregation can never be congregation.

Unity of the Human Person: Liturgy as Art Perhaps the argument that the difference in intellectual development between children and adults constitutes a special case merits extra attention. While it still cannot get around the fact that a separate liturgy creates a division where unity is supposed to be foundational, let us consider the question by way of the analogy often drawn between liturgy and art. To the extent that both liturgy and art function symbolically, they engage not just the intellectual and cognitive dimensions but also the physical, affective, aesthetic and moral dimensions of the human person. Art is not "age specific" -Caravaggio did not paint a separate version of his Conversion of Saint Paul for children, nor did Michelangelo sculpt a second, more easily "understandable," David. Truly worthy art speaks universally to the whole human being, who will appreciate it at the level of which she or he is capable. One's appreciation of art surely grows and deepens with experience, and with being exposed to the best that artists can offer, but that offer is to the entire community, not to segments of it and not in different versions. The analogy, by the way, is as applicable to the homily as it is to any other part of the Mass. Unity of the Liturgy, Word and Eucharist Besides segregating the liturgical assembly, the practice also compromises the unity of the liturgical action itself, the very purpose for which we gather each Sunday. The General Introduction to the Lectionary for Mass, no. 10, states: The Church is nourished spiritually at the table of God's word and at the table of the eucharist . . . .. . . the divine word read and proclaimed by the Church in the liturgy has as its one goal the sacrifice of the New Covenant and the banquet of grace, that is, the eucharist. The celebration of Mass in which the word is heard and the eucharist is offered and received forms but one single act of divine worship. (3) When one segment of the baptized is dismissed from the table of the Word -- even to be nourished at "its own" -- the single act of worship is segmented for both groups, those dismissed and those remaining, so that neither group experiences the fullness of the unity intended. Is such a division, unnecessary as it is, truly a "foretaste of the heavenly banquet"? Granted that no individual eucharistic celebration ever lives up entirely to the eschatological reality of which it is a sign, must we give up on the sign altogether? How are we supposed to take to heart Christ's injunction to receive the kingdom of God as little children in order to enter it, if we are unwilling even to have the children present with us in an authentically "single act of divine worship"? Mixed Messages Many people ask of the postconciliar liturgy, "Where has the mystery gone?" It is patently at hand as far as young children are concerned. Their playful but serious ritualizing has so much to offer our "adult" attitudes toward worship. Rather than hearing the message Christ speaks to us through our children's worship, we may be sending them mixed messages about their very value in the eyes of God and of the Church. Consider: the congregation is gathered in the opening rites, and children of a particular age group are selected out from this assembly for a separate experience of the Word. The age spread

of this group varies from parish to parish, but it invariably includes children who have not yet reached the "age of reason" and thus have not received first communion. The children in this age group, therefore, are dismissed from the part of the liturgy in which they are permitted full participation, and are later reinserted for that part in which they are not! Instead of allowing children's witness to an always already graced world a voice in the liturgy, we subtly dismiss their "naivete" and teach them that the fullness of God's life is not yet within their grasp. To our detriment, our liturgies all too often send everyone that same message. It tends to happen in one of two ways, opposite in their extremes. One says, "God is here and only here" (typified by liturgies in which the presence of Christ in the assembly is not truly accepted). The other says, "We are really taken with ourselves" (typified by liturgies so intent on self-satisfaction and self- glorification that there is no time or room for consideration of the Other). Is it any wonder that children are content to leave, and that when they do their parents and religious educators often breathe a sigh of relief? This sigh, too deep for words, struggles to say, "Thank you, Lord, that they will hear something today that will nourish them with your life!" Would we be so ready to send our children off if we thought they would be missing something important and vital? It is our responsibility to celebrate the liturgy as if it meant everything to us, because through it the Spirit thoroughly transforms us. Before we reach a point where the priest's Sunday homily preparation no longer has to include consideration for children in the assembly, we need to consider whether the "problem" of children at Sunday worship lies not with our children, but with our worship.