The Back Pew

The joke goes that if you sit in the back pew at church it’s because you want to be the first one out the door when the service is over. Well that may hold true for some but not for our family.

Forty-six years ago Clark and I began sitting in the back pew at Emanuel Church. Married a year, we could keep baby Claire content without worry of distracting others. Worshiping was easy with Claire in my arms. Gratitude for a loving husband and sweet girl overflowed, and hymns remembered from my own childhood long ago, I sang then as a mother in praise to my God.

Three years later God blessed us with twins, Emily and Jennifer, and the back pew became our home littered with books and squeaky toys. Three little girls soaked in God’s truth as Clark and I sat under solid teaching. Without understanding what it meant to worship, three pairs of little lips mouthed the songs of love to the Jesus they knew from Sunday School and Bible School, and the seeds of faith began to sprout in their tiny hearts for the next five years. And then…

Our youngest of four daughters, Mallory, was welcomed with joy as we bumped yet another worshiper out of the back pew. Shushing voices that were a little too loud, drying tears, and settling “territorial” disputes were at times distracting, but we were learning the “discipline” of worship – presence. We were there and our souls were being fed, our hearts were being filled and our mouths sang out praise.

Yet again our family (and our pew) grew by one. A baby boy, Jonathan, brought laughter and delight to our bunch as he was passed back and forth from sister to sister. More than likely it was the giggling and the too many trips to the bathroom that forced the last “non-Schlender” holdout from the back pew. He gave us a wink and a weak smile as he moved ahead to a quieter seat up front.

As years passed I learned valuable lessons from those sitting ahead of us – how to “mother” noisy children, how to grieve, how to celebrate, how to remain steadfast in the storms. Our children grew in faith and in struggles as the elementary years melted into high school years. Too soon, good-byes were achingly said as college beckoned our children one by one, and the once crowded back pew became open pasture as loving members of our extended Emanuel family filtered in. And we were comforted.

Three weddings and twelve grandchildren later we now spill out into the two back pews. Books and squeaky toys once again are squished between tiny bodies, and territorial disputes are settled by our kids-turned-parents. Clark and I do no shushing of grandchildren. After all, “Grandchildren are the crown of the aged.” (Proverbs 17:6) and wisely we have learned that the joy in worship is beautifully noisy. Young voices ring out with the old. Squeals intertwine with amens, and God smiles as we sing to Him.

One by one we approach the altar to share the body and the blood of Christ. As I watch my Emanuel family, my children and my grandchildren solemnly reach out to receive the elements I’m flooded with visions of past generations who were faithful examples to me: our first pastor’s wife who encouraged me as a young mother and new member of the church to teach Bible School, the young mothers who encircled me as we met monthly, laughing and crying with each other through the child rearing years, and silver haired saints whose marriages were still strong past their 50 year wedding anniversaries teaching us about enduring love. And my own family starting with my parents who wrestled five busy children to worship service every Sunday, my grandparents who dressed us up and drove us down the gravel road to their small country church and my great grandmother who would not allow farm work to be done on Sundays. They all, through their lives lived for Jesus, made Jesus real to me.

For our family there has been a lot of life lived in the back pew. As I look out over the people of Emanuel ahead of us and at my children and grandchildren surrounding us, I am filled with love and gratitude. “Thank You, God, for placing me in this church in my lifetime, with these souls. May their hearts be strengthened in You and may their needs be met to Your glory. Amen”