For those not raised in the church, the phrase church home is an odd one. For me as a child, the church was an extension of my home. I spent probably equal amounts of waking time at home, at school and at church. My father was the senior pastor (and usually the only pastor) of the churches that he served during my childhood, with one exception -- A & M UMC and Wesley Foundation. To me, church wasn't just something we did on Sunday mornings. We were, as a family, at church a lot. When my dad had meetings, we either stayed home or, if Mom was on a committee or in a Bible study, in the church nursery. As we grew up, there were times that we ran the nursery! The saying in our house was that if the church was open, we were there.
It is hard on pastor's kids to know how to treat the church. On the one hand, it is a place of worship. On the other, it is a place where you feel like you are at home and can be yourself. And yet, it is your parent's workplace. How then to behave? Well if you are me, you do your best to treat it as your home. Maybe not the best plan.
Over the years my parents have collected a great many "Patty" stories. Almost all of them are things I did in church, often during worship. One of the favorites is when I was between the ages of 3 and 6 (guessing based on where we were serving). My best performances, because in my mind at the time that was what they were, occurred around Children's Sermon. This one is no different. My mom usually sat at the back ready to scoop me up and run out of worship when I would misbehave. This particular Sunday was no different, but oh how she wished it had been. Children's Sermon had ended without much issue. The kids had made their way back to their seats, with one notable exception, ME! Mom noticed people leaning out to look at the center aisle, laughing. She looked. There I was leap-frogging down the aisle, complete with ribbits, back to our pew. This earned a scoop, run, and spank in the garden. To this day my family jokes that the garden at A & M UMC should be named the Patty Hume Spanking Garden because of how many I got there!
This past Sunday, I understood how my mom must have felt. Generally, Cam goes to the nursery during church. He's not quite three so he really doesn't "get" church yet. But this week we were joining Christ UMC Sugar Land. So we kept both kids in the service with us. Cam was good up to the Children's Sermon so we let him go down by himself. No biggie! He was great. He sat quietly and listened as the associate pastor talked about tithing. He waited patiently in line for his dime to put in the offering plate. Then all the other kids went to their seats or Children's Church. And Cam stood there. In the center of the chancel area, he stood, grinning, but thoroughly unsure of what comes next. Naturally I went to get him. Then, in his loudest voice, he exclaimed, "He gived me a penny, mama!" Everyone started laughing. Oh no. No. My child will not be like me!
Upon telling this story on Facebook, a friend, a pastor's wife herself and a friend of my parents, reminded me that my folks have been waiting decades for this. She didn't say it but they are awaiting payback. And they are. Especially my mom.
By the time we went down to join at the end of the service, Cam was beyond ready to play. During the closing hymn, we stood with the pastor, ready to become part of this family and call this church our home, and I was again reminded of my own stories as I watched my so. My son couldn't stand still. He was trying to crawl through the alter rail. My sweet husband wrangled Cam, finally resorting to swaying him by his arms. I saw several folk kindly laughing with the almost 3 year old that was full of energy. These folks are now our family. This is now our home.
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