Church Today

Sunday School ended for the summer two weeks ago at our church, but today was the last Sunday of choir until September, so I made the effort to go and sing even if it meant bringing the girls up to the choir loft with me.  It turns out the actual choir-loft part of the service was a breeze; Julia sang along with us and Madeleine sprawled on her stomach on one of the carpeted risers and colored.  Among her artwork were the following drawings:

A camel, a shepherd, and the Nativity star.  Because shepherds herd camels, right?

Harry Potter and Hagrid.  Shouldn't Harry be a lot smaller, proportionally speaking?!?

Captain Jack Sparrow, who is apparently either riding a miniature ship or is a Leviathan.

"That's Hermione, and...they're at Rosemary Pool, and that's Ginny and she's SURFING."


After the normal service ended, there was an extra Vespers service for Pentecost, which had not been part of my church-with-kids-and-no-Sunday-school plan.  The girls and I sat up at the front of the church for the nearly 1.5 hour extra service, which meant we were just a teeny bit distracting. 

During the kneeling prayers, as the priest recited aloud, the girls and I clasped our hands to say our own private prayers in the pew.  I guess "private" is a relative term, however, as Madeleine, for some reason, decided to pray out loud and recite a litany of requests that I'm pretty sure aren't ever going to be granted.  I could hear bits and pieces of what she was saying as she knelt next to me:

"All our wishes..."  "all of the people from Harry Potter to be real EPSEPT for the bad guys..."  "Captain Jack Sparrow to come over to our house..."

I think that Madeleine assumes that God, like the President, has the ability to make every magical fantasy and whim come true.

(Ethan and ye other non-believers reading this blog, rest assured, I already know what's going through your head, so no need to pull a Madeleine and voice it aloud.)

At any rate, we made it through the lengthy Vespers and got some goodies at coffee hour, and on the car ride home, we discussed the unexpected extra service.

ME: Girls, I'm really, really proud of you for behaving so well at church.  I know that Vespers service was really long and really boring, and you both did SUCH a good job sitting still through it.
JULIA: Wait.  Mom.  Even YOU thought it was boring??
ME: Of course I did!
JULIA: (gasping in utter astonishment and relief)
ME: Yeah, I was not expecting to have to sit through that.  It was really long, and it was mostly in Greek so we had no idea what was going on, so it was definitely boring.
JULIA: But Mom.  Why do you think they DID that service?
ME: Well, it's because it's Pentecost.  In the past years, Pentecost has come later in the spring, after choir gets done for the summer, so I haven't been there for the service. I think I must have just forgotten that the extra Vespers is even a part of Pentecost.
JULIA: (even more astonished) Wait.  There's still church in the summer??
ME: Yes!  Church is every Sunday, year-round.
JULIA: Well Mom, you know what I think is, like, kind of not really fair?  That teachers and kids don't have to work or go to school in the summer, but nobody ELSE gets the summer off!
ME: Well, the problem is that most companies couldn't continue to run if everybody took a three-month break from working.
JULIA: I know, but, like, it should be a RULE that everybody gets summers off.

Ah, I see.  As long as it's a stated rule that everyone gets summers off, we won't have to face the otherwise inevitable economic collapse that would result from all employees of all kinds halting work for the summer.

What happened next in the conversation was even more bizarre.

ME: Yeah, wouldn't it be nice if Daddy didn't have to work in the summer, and we could all just spend time together?
JULIA: Yeah!
MADELEINE: Mama?  If everyone's heart blew up, then no one would LOVE each other.


Oh, okay.  Well, that's relevant.  And possible.

Julia was having NONE of it.

JULIA: Madeleine.  If everyone's HEART blew up, everyone would be DEAD.
MADELEINE: (innocently) No they wouldn't!

Yeah, no they wouldn't.  They just wouldn't be able to love anybody anymore.  It would be a loveless dystopia, with everyone walking around with blown-up hearts. 

In the unfortunate event of everyone's heart blowing up, maybe Madeleine can just pray to God to make all the blown-up pieces magically meld back together, and then we can all love again!