Advent III: The Lesson in the Interruptions

It was the third Sunday in Advent. About ten children were seated in a semi-circle in front of me. Most of the children were between four and six years old, some were a bit younger, some a bit older. The children were barely able to contain their excitement. Christmas was coming. We’d had a little snow. We were practicing our pageant songs, great fun--though some of us were not sure what a pageant was.

And so the class began with the children laughing at anything and everything. A noise, a sneeze, a silly word started giggles which spread and grew into rolling-on-the-floor laughter. I deliberately spoke quietly as I requested that we save the big jokes for after church. The initiators of the comedy, several five and six year old boys, checked with each other and nod. They looked back at me, “OK”.

Evan, our church’s seminarian, darkened the room. I spread out a long rectangular piece of purple felt and said, “This is the season of Advent.” I paused to breathe.

From a little girl to my right, “What’s Advent?” I held up one finger, signaling her to wait. And, I sent a “hold it together” look in the direction of a giggler. I wondered if I shouldn’t breathe when I present a lesson.

“Advent is the time when we are getting ready to celebrate the mystery of Christmas. The time when we are all on the road to Bethlehem,” I picked up our wooden Bethlehem model as I spoke.

A four year old boy on my left spoke over me and repeated himself as I inhaled-- in case I didn’t hear him, “What mystery…What mystery?”

The circle was quiet. I didn’t look up. “A mystery...yes. Let’s see what we find out about a mystery,” I added to the lesson. I decided it was OK to breathe.

“I wonder who can show us the way.”

My helpers were on the job. “God can!” shouted one boy. “Jesus can!” exclaimed another. “Miss Chris will!” said the seven year old girl sitting nearest me as she pointed to the baskets, “She has the stuff right here!”

I placed Bethlehem at one end of the underlay. So far, only the introduction was finished.

I set out the first of our Advent cards. This one had an advent wreath with one lit candle and a picture of Isaiah. I said, “The prophets can show us the way.” I inhaled.

“What’s a prophet?” asked one of the girls.

I exhaled and held up a wooden figure and said, “Prophets are people who are so close to God that they hear the word of God and they…”

“What’s God?” asked a three year old girl. I gave up breathing. The room was silent. No laughter. No silliness. The adults and children who gather for Godly Play take these kinds of questions seriously.

“God is…everything,” a five year old boy volunteer solemnly. He seemed to have more to say, but he stopped there and looked at his buddies. His friends muttered words of agreement. “OK. Go back to the story Miss Chris."

I turned to the three year old. She looked satisfied.

I went on. I told the children about the prophet Isaiah and we lit a candle to remind ourselves to listen to God as Isaiah did. As this was the third week in Advent, we lit two more candles. The second candle was for the Holy Family who reminded us to be joyful, not afraid. The third candle was for the shepherds who reminded us of the good news that Jesus, the special Son of God, was born. We enjoyed a silent, candlelit moment looking at the Advent cards, the wooden figures of Isaiah, the Holy Family and the Shepherds. I “changed” the light with a candle snuffer and we watched the smoke drift away. We were silent.

I sat back and looked around the circle at the children.

“What’s God?” It was our three year old asking again. This time hands went up. A lively discussion began. Children explained God. The “God is everything” boy added information about Jesus to his answer. The exchange continued. The children’s answers to the BIG question posed by our three year old were thoughtful and considered. Hands went up fast and furiously. Children wanted a chance to weigh in...again and again. The thinking continued and was reflected in the art work that followed our circle time.

And so it was on the Third Sunday in Advent. The children were laughing and fidgeting and interrupting. It seemed that we’d never make it down the road to Bethlehem. But, as it turned out, the interruptions were the blessing; for it was in the interruptions that the children found our lesson.