Back in 1960, the Broadway musical Bye Bye Birdie hit the stage, telling the story of rock-and-roll star Conrad Birdie just before his military draft. Woven into the musical is a comical sub-plot: two parents lamenting “kids these days.” They describe the younger generation as “disobedient, disrespectful oafs—noisy, crazy, dirty, lazy loafers.” Why, they ask, can’t children be like they were—“perfect in every way?”
Of course, if we asked their parents—the grandparents—we might hear the same complaints about these parents when they were young. And if we keep tracing this line back, we discover something striking: every generation has grumbled about the next. Even Aristotle complained that the youth of his day “think they know everything, and are always quite sure about it.”1
The sentiment of “kids these days” is ancient. And if we’re honest, the church has often joined the chorus.
Citation
1. Aristotle Rhetoric - Book II, Chapter 12
The Church’s Struggle with “Kids These Days”
In my years working in local churches, I heard plenty of frustrations about children in worship. Children are noisy. They squirm, wiggle, or talk too loudly. They climb on pews during hymns or stretch out on the floor during sermons. Babies cry at the most “inconvenient” times—often during prayer or just as the preacher begins a sermon.
Some congregations even go so far as to send parents out of worship when children become restless. Parents share stories of being told their children are “not welcome in church,” or that they should sit in the back and be ready to leave if little ones make a sound. A few years ago, social media exploded over one man’s tweet expressing frustration that a crying baby disrupted the sermon he was trying to hear. His solution? Parents should take children to the nursery or lobby so the “important” work of worship could continue without distraction.
But here’s the question: if children consistently experience church as a place where they are silenced or sidelined, are we really surprised when they grow up and decide the church is not for them?
Our frustrations with “kids these days” in worship echo the same old complaints voiced in Bye Bye Birdie. But Jesus’ response to children was radically different.
The Bible’s Vision: Children at the Center
One of the most well-known passages about children comes from Mark 10:13–16:
People were bringing little children to Jesus for him to place his hands on them, but the disciples rebuked them. When Jesus saw this, he was indignant. He said to them, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” And he took the children in his arms, placed his hands on them and blessed them.
We know this story, but let’s pause and see it clearly.
The parents wanted Jesus’ blessing for their children—even for their babies, according to Luke’s account. But the disciples saw this as an interruption. They rebuked the parents, scolding them for bothering Jesus with powerless little ones who, in their view, had nothing to contribute.
But Jesus’ response is fierce. Mark tells us he was indignant. He wasn’t mildly irritated—he was angry. Angry at his disciples for turning children away. And in that moment, he flipped the world’s values upside down:
“Let the children come to me. Do not hinder them. The kingdom of God belongs to such as these.”
The disciples assumed that the kingdom was for the powerful, the learned, the devout. Jesus announced that it belongs to children—the weak, the vulnerable, the squirmy, the noisy.
And not only do children belong to the kingdom, but they also show us how to enter it. Unless we receive the kingdom like a child, Jesus says, we cannot enter it at all.
Children in God’s Upside-Down Kingdom
This story reveals two truths we dare not miss:
- Children are full participants in God’s kingdom. They are not on the sidelines, waiting to grow up before they matter. They are embraced, blessed, and welcomed by Jesus himself.
- Children model the way of the kingdom. Their openness, dependence, and capacity for wonder show adults how to live in God’s reign.
This flips our assumptions on their head. Too often, we treat children as the future of the church rather than its present. We treat worship as something we own, in which children may participate only when they can do so “quietly” and “appropriately.” But Jesus insists that the kingdom belongs to them now.
The Body Needs Its Children
Paul reminds us in 1 Corinthians 12 that the church is one body with many parts, and “the parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable” (v. 22). Children may appear weaker or less capable, but they are indispensable to the body of Christ.
When children are absent—or silenced—the church loses something essential. Their energy, curiosity, and capacity for wonder are not distractions from worship; they are gifts that enrich it.
Think of it this way:
- Children remind us of our dependence on God. Just as infants rely on others for everything, so we rely fully on our heavenly Father.
- Children embody wonder and trust. They receive love without hesitation, ask questions adults are afraid to voice, and believe in God’s power without cynicism.
- Children point us back to our identity as God’s children. No matter how accomplished or powerful we become, before God we are small, vulnerable, and dependent.
When Jesus welcomed children, he wasn’t being sentimental. He was revealing what God’s kingdom is really like.
Worshipping with Children
If we take Jesus seriously, our worship must reflect the welcome he extended to children. That means resisting the impulse to push them aside. It means embracing the holy disruption they bring.
A crying baby in worship is not a distraction from God’s presence—it is a reminder of life, of dependence, of the God who hears our cries. A wiggly child is not undermining reverence—they are embodying a faith lived in bodies that move, grow, and stretch. A child’s laughter in church is not irreverent—it is kingdom joy breaking through.
The question is not whether children belong in worship. Jesus has already answered that. The question is whether we will receive them as Jesus did—with open arms and blessing—or whether we will act more like the disciples, rebuking and pushing them aside.
Becoming Like Children
There is one more turn in the story. Right after blessing the children, Jesus meets a wealthy man who asks how to inherit eternal life. After their exchange, Jesus turns to his disciples and calls them “children”:
“Children, how hard it is to enter the kingdom of God!” (Mark 10:24)
Did you catch that? Jesus doesn’t just bless little ones—he names his adult disciples as children. Because in the kingdom, that’s who we all are.
To follow Jesus is to embrace our own childlike dependence on God. To live as his disciples is to recognize that we are not powerful, not in control, but deeply in need of grace, care, and love.
The church does not just “tolerate” children. We are children. And children in our worship remind us of this truth.
A Theological Vision
Here, then, is the biblical and theological vision for children in worship:
- Children belong. They are full members of the body of Christ, heirs of the kingdom of God.
- Children contribute. Their presence brings gifts the rest of the church cannot do without.
- Children teach. Their openness to wonder, dependence on love, and freedom in expressing faith model discipleship for adults.
- Children remind us who we are. Their vulnerability mirrors our own before God, and their place in the kingdom reminds us that our status, wealth, or power mean nothing before the Lord.
Let the Children Come
In Bye Bye Birdie, the parents’ lament about “kids these days” is played for laughs. But in the church, our dismissal of children is no joke. When we sideline children, we sideline the very ones Jesus held up as heirs of his kingdom.
Jesus’ words still ring out with force: “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.”
The church cannot afford to treat children as disruptions. They are not the problem; they are the picture. They show us what God’s kingdom looks like.
So the next time you hear a baby cry, a toddler giggle, or a child ask a too-loud question in the middle of worship, don’t roll your eyes. Let it remind you: this is what the kingdom sounds like. This is the body of Christ, whole and alive.
Let the children come. And in their presence, may we remember that we too are children of God—embraced, blessed, and welcomed by Jesus himself.
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Citation
1. Aristotle Rhetoric - Book II, Chapter 12
Comments (1)
Amen! My hope is for the Church to affirm this.