Why I Love "Picnic Church"

another version of this article will appear in my congregation's newsletter.

This summer our congregation has introduced a new program, which we call “Picnic Church.”  After our week of Vacation Bible School was over, we decided to continue to offer, once a week on Wednesday, a full day of programs and activities for children, including Bible activities, crafts, stories and field trips.  At the end of each Wednesday we have a pot luck picnic, with salads and desserts provided.   A different volunteer grills hamburgers and hot dogs every week.  Afterwards, we get out lawn chairs and blankets, and enjoy a simple worship service on the lawn.  That’s “Picnic Church”, in a nutshell.

Even though I missed the first two weeks of “Picnic Church”, I already love Picnic Church, and it’s not just because they gave me a cake for the 20^th Anniversary of my ordination last week.  I have been hoping that our church would start a summer mid-week service for a few years now, and am glad that a group of people took the vision from theory to reality.  And it doesn’t hurt that we have gotten consistently wonderful weather so far.

Aside from that here are some of the other reasons that I love picnic church.

1.  We practice the priesthood of all believers.  What do I mean by that?  I mean that “Picnic Church” invites participation.  From the opening prayer to the benediction, the songs and the scripture reading and even the “sermonette”, the people gathered participate.  One week a teenager demonstrated his gift of the Spirit – dancing – as part of the sermon.  Another week, we heard the Scripture reading in Spanish.  One of my favorite things every week is the time of prayer.  Everyone is invited to share a prayer request, and people of all ages raise their hands and their voices.  I am not sure, but this simple act of prayer may be my favorite part of picnic church.

2.  The children lead.  Our song leader always asks children to come up to help teach and lead the songs that we sing each week.  I will always remember the look on one little girl’s face as she held the microphone last week and led one of the closing songs.  Her eyes were wide with sheer delight, wonder and empowerment as she heard her own voice coming through the microphone.  Children read scripture, help lead the call to worship and help us learn the actions to the songs we sing.  If we want to teach children to worship, and to love worship, this is how to do it.

3.  Our community is invited.  The families of those children who are involved in our Wednesday program stay for dinner and worship, so we have the opportunity to get to know each other.   We have also been walking over to a nearby apartment complex, inviting children and families to come for the Wednesday program and also for Picnic Church in the evening.  We are practicing really living out what we say we believe:  "Come as you are.  Everyone is welcome here."  

4.  We have Freedom to Experiment.  Worship is simple, but there are always surprises.  We are not done trying new things!  This Wednesday, or the next,  we will be trying a thing or two that we haven’t done before, always wanting to illuminate something true about God, or grace, or the nature of worship. 

5.  Anyone can bring a dish to pass. In fact, one thing I have noticed is that people have just started to come bearing gifts every week.  There are yummy bars and delicious pasta salads, fruit from the garden and perhaps other surprises to come.  Who knows?  So maybe you don’t want to help lead the singing or say a prayer?  There is room for all of our gifts and there is room for all of our ages.

I can't help thinking that these five practices are forming the heart of our congregation's redevelopment.  To learn to be worshipful and flexible, to welcome one another with true hospitality, to pray truly from the heart and to trust the Holy Spirit's presence:  this is how we will be renewed; this is how we will be the church -- right now, and in the future.

Good Soil

Late on Tuesday afternoon,  I  walked over to the large apartment complex adjacent to our church grounds, along with the other pastor, the children's ministry coordinator, a new mission developer.  It was a beautiful afternoon.  There was a pool, and some children were playing.  A few people sat at picnic tables in a grassy area.  We came bearing balloons to blow up, as well as flyers inviting people to our Wednesday program for children, new this year.

Some people expressed reservations about our plan.  This large apartment complex is known for being a volatile place sometimes.  Some people are afraid to go there.  It is also home to some of our new immigrants, from many places.

The others had all been over to the apartment complex the week before; I asked if I could go along this week.  Just going out in the neighborhood, talking to people -- it's something I believe I is important, but I'll confess, it scares an introvert like me.  I haven't done it since I headed up an inner city summer program, back in seminary.  It was time to face the fears and go out again.  After all, we had the balloons and the flyers.

There were not that many people out and about this week, the others told me.  At least, not compared to the week before.  We had a short conversation with a woman who did not speak much English.  She was just getting ready to go into the pool area, and she asked us where she could find ESL programs.    We told he we would look into it and gave her a flyer.

We had brief conversations with a couple of men sitting at picnic tables, and gave them flyers.  Then the children's ministry coordinator and I went over to a picnic table with an older woman and two young children.  We struck up a conversation with the two children, Arthur and Maria, who were about five and six years old, and were adamant that they were not related.  Just friends, they said.  We told them about our program and gave them flyers.  The children's ministry coordinator blew up a couple of balloons for them, one green and one blue.  They asked us some questions and played with the balloons.  One of them popped, and we blew up another one.

The older woman did not speak any English.  She was a grandma to one of the children.  We got her name and gave her a flyer too.

On the way back to the church, we talked to one other woman, blew up balloons for her children, and invited them to our Wednesday program.  She asked if we knew any good day care centers near us.  We said we would look into it for her.

On Wednesday morning, I studied the Sunday gospel readings with a few other pastors.  It is summer, so there were only a handful of us, not the impressive crowds that meet sometimes in the weeks before Easter.  But we got together and read Matthew 13:1-9, the parable about the sower and the seeds.  We even read the interpretation, even though the interpretation made some of us grumble.

We like the parable, most of us thought, but we don't like the interpretation.  It takes all the mystery out of it.  And it doesn't sound like Jesus.  We like the parable, with the crazy farmer, and the crazy yields.  Mostly.

But then there's all of the places the seeds fell, the rocky soil, the path, among the weeds, and the good soil.  Some of us said, "what's so bad about seeds getting eaten by birds?  Birds need to eat too?"  Others thought the rocky soil got a bad rap; there are hardy plants that grow in rocky soil, after all.  Not according to this parable, though.

Well.

So there are places that the seed, for some reason or another, does not take root and grow.  And there are descriptions about why that might be the case.  But it occurs to me that the good soil only qualifies for one reason, really:  something grows there.  We only know the soil is good because of the yield.

So.

Picnic church

On Wednesday afternoon at about 4:00 p.m., a car drove into the church parking lot.  It was Arthur and Maria, with Arthur's mom.  She had the flyer in her hand.  Arthur was concerned about possibly getting another balloon.  I had to tell her that the children were already gone.  I told them they could come back for "Picnic Church" if they wanted to eat hot dogs and hamburgers right over on the church lawn.  Arthur said he would like to see what the inside of the church looked like.

So I took them inside and showed them the entry and the sanctuary.  Arthur asked about the bell, and I let him try to ring it once.  He asked about Jesus.  "Did't he die?" he asked.  "Yes, but he rose again," I answered.

His mom said that Arthur used to go to church with a friend of his.  She usually works on weekends.  She does nails.  "Like this?"  I pointed to my pink toenails.

I invited them to come back for supper, once again, and said I hoped to see them again sometime at the apartments.

And I meant it.  I hope I see them again, when I am out with my flyers and balloons.  I hope I see them again, when I am out scattering seeds all over the place, like a crazy farmer.

It all looks like good soil to me.

This is one of the reasons I bought a digital camera

Seen on a house in a nearby neighborhood....