What Children Are Teaching Us About Worship

By Brittany McDonald Null 

It is an average Sunday at First Baptist Church in Columbia, Missouri, when fourth grader Gideon steps up to the lectern and says, “As the bell is rung, I invite you to center yourself in worship.”

Then he reaches for the handbell and calls us to worship.

Gideon has been ringing the bell for more than three years, first alongside his dad and now on his own. The extra step that once helped him see over the lectern has been removed. He doesn’t need it anymore.

There is something beautifully ordinary about it.

Gideon is one of many children and youth who have grown up leading First Baptist in worship. But my understanding of what children's worship leadership could look like was transformed by another child, Andrew.

Andrew remembers wanting to lead in worship when he was only three years old. He saw our pastor preaching and remembers thinking, “I want to do that, too.” A few years later, when he was six, he approached me with a question: could he read the Bible in worship sometime?

It was a simple, brave request.

First Baptist has long claimed that children are not simply the future of the church. They are an essential part of the church right now. Over the years, we have tried to make our worship reflect that belief. There are worship bags and a prayground. There are children coloring during sermons, dancing in the aisles, whispering questions to their grownups, and occasionally running onto the stage because that is where their caregiver happens to be.

Welcoming children into worship matters, but welcoming them and making space for children to lead worship are not quite the same thing.

Children do not lead worship as a performance for the adults in the room. They are not there simply because it is cute to hear a child read Scripture or because it makes for a good photo. They lead because they are part of this community, and this is what communities of faith do together.

What began with an invitation for children to read Scripture quickly grew into something more. Other children began sharing their gifts in different ways: leading prayers, receiving the offering, handing out bulletins, creating bulletin covers, playing music, and participating in litanies. What had once been reserved for special Sundays became a regular part of our worship life. We were learning to recognize the gifts they were already bringing and trust them with the worship life of our community.

Sometimes that leadership looks like a child confidently reading Scripture from the lectern. Other times, it looks like a grownup holding a child while they make announcements together because the child wants to participate but isn't quite ready to stand before the congregation alone. We are learning that leadership doesn't require independence. It requires a community willing to offer the support each person needs.

One of the beautiful surprises has been hearing how these experiences have shaped our children’s relationships with God.  

For Gideon, leading worship has become part of how he understands his own faith. When I asked him about his experience, he told me that it has helped him discover that he encounters God most through music and that God is with him all the time, even when he is nervous.

For Andrew, reading Scripture has helped him grow closer to God. He shared that he connects differently to the Bible when he reads it for himself rather than hearing someone else read it to him. Leading worship, he said, is “like a magnifying glass, because I get to see the Bible closer.”

Those are not insignificant theological discoveries. They are children learning to name their experiences with God within a church that takes their faith seriously.

We often say that children learn to worship by watching the people they love worship. They learn the rhythms of prayer by hearing us pray. They learn the songs of our faith by singing beside us. They learn what it means to offer their gifts by watching others offer theirs. And, eventually, they begin to discover how they might participate too.

Inviting children to lead is part of that same process. It is not a separate program we have created for them. It is what can happen when children spend years worshiping alongside a community that repeatedly tells them they belong to God and to one another.

But the truth is, children leading worship has not only shaped our children. It has shaped our whole congregation. Watching children worship, wonder, pray, and lead stretches our imagination for how God might move through all of us.

Children ask questions adults have sometimes learned not to ask. They bring their whole selves into worship in ways adults have sometimes learned to suppress. They remind us that reverence does not always mean stillness, that leadership does not require perfection, and that wisdom is not determined by age.

When I asked Gideon what he wanted adults to know about children leading worship, his answer was simple: “Kids can do it.” Andrew echoed that confidence, reminding me that “kids don’t have to know everything to be able to lead. They just need to be willing.”

But Andrew also had a challenge for the adults: we need to be willing to listen. He reminded me that sometimes the best thing an adult can do for a child is simply listen. Too often, we feel the need to fill the silence, to offer an answer, or to speak on a child's behalf. But that isn't always what children need from us.

Most importantly, these children remind us that faith formation is not a one-way exchange.

The adults of our congregation have stories, traditions, experiences, and wisdom worth sharing. But our children have something to teach us, too. We are not simply preparing them to become the church someday. We are the church together now, learning from one another as we grow in God’s love.

Making space for children requires intentionality. Scripture may need to be sent home for practice, a lectern may need a step stool, or an adult may need to stand nearby. But needing support does not make someone less of a leader.

In fact, I think about that missing step at our lectern.

For years, Gideon needed it. Someone had to put it in place so he could see over the top. Then, somewhere along the way, he grew.

We did not wait for him to be tall enough before inviting him to lead. We changed the space so he could lead as he was.

Perhaps that is part of our calling as the church: not to wait for children to grow into a church built for adults, but to keep changing our spaces, expectations, and practices so they can fully belong now.

Our children are already a part of the church, and we are better for it.  

Rev. Brittany McDonald Null serves as Pastor of Families and Spiritual Formation at First Baptist Church in Columbia, Missouri. She is passionate about creating meaningful, intergenerational spaces for worship and faith formation, helping people of all ages connect with God, one another, and their own sense of calling. In her free time, you can likely find her birding, knitting, or visiting her local cat cafe.

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