Sunday School is not for sissies

The very term Sunday School sounds like it’s designed and limited to children. So it is. I am a child of God and I am instructed to be childlike in my faith.

Sunday School at Cameron Church was stiffly structured. It worked for us, gave us a solid foundation. These days I don’t think that system would fly with our Entertainment Generation. Our teachers both at school and church didn’t have to compete with Sesame Street or Clifford the Big Red Dog, or MTV, or Power Rangers, or video games. Howdy Doody had his time slot and stayed there. And our parents were upstairs in their own classes so behavior was not an issue. Details are a whole ‘nother blog.

In the 21st century, a 4 year degree with a side dish of psychology is needed to keep the Bible education fires burning. At SHCC, the children’s ministry is blooming. The youth group, needing another total style, is bearing fruit.

Our adult class is downright fun. Our most recent additions, Tom and Laurie, who BTW operate The Wedding Bell Chapel complete with a drive through window, tried every church within a practical distance before they settled on us. In the food court of Mall of the Churches, what they were looking for was not just the alive dessert service but one with a meat and vegetable education department. “Where’s the beef?”

We recently completed an overview of the end times and Jesus’ return, the signs and the events. How exciting! Some people don’t want to discuss it. People, this is not the same as dying. This is the ultimate transition. We won’t be leaving our saved loved ones and they won’t be leaving us. No mourning! We’re together here and suddenly we’re together forever there. This future is beyond humans’ ability to describe it. I won’t have any trouble leaving the present. This future appears to be really, really, really close.

That said, we are starting a two book side by side study–Joel Osteen’s Your Best Life Now and Joyce Meyer’s Seven Things That Steal Your Joy. It’s good to enjoy the journey however short or long. I’ll share choice nuggets.

“Sunday School” conjures up memories of crinoline, white patent leather shoes with the icky socks, little chairs, the same songs I heard the year before and something newer and harder to memorize. Times changed, I changed. We’re serving beef—sometimes the conversation resembles a really fun food fight. And this is good. Come and dine with us.

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