The Children’s Sermon - An Easter Story

In certain Southern church services, there exists an abomination called The Children’s Sermon.  It is abominable because the whole premise behind it is a lie - while it takes place during the church service, it is not a real “sermon”; it’s a gospel “lesson” so watered-down and sugar-coated that you could put it on in a public school classroom and not a single Atheist parent would complain. 

And it’s not about children, either.  It’s a little respite for the adults, who enjoy their little sniggering game of “let’s see whose child will pick his nose right there in view of the videographer”, and “Lord, I hope Bettie May’s spoiled brat pulls her new dress right up over her head.  And I hope she’s wearing drawers with her mother’s name monogrammed on the front.”  (Admit it; you all do it.)   

My Dad was never fond of Children’s Sermons, but he did them on occasion, usually for Holidays.  A particularly memorable Easter Sunday comes to mind.

Dad was asked to add a little levity to the solemn service by asking the little children to come unto him, right before the offertory, for a little personalized preaching.  He didn’t look forward to the event, and wasn’t sure the kids would either, so he asked some member of our church who bred rabbitts on their farm to supply a prop.  He hid the costar in a little picnic basket, and brought it to the church that morning. 

The Sermon began like this.

Dad:  “Children, I have something in this basket.  Can anyone guess what it is?”

Children:  (Head shakes all around)

Dad:  Okay, well it’s someone who’s white and furry, and has long ears, and people thing of him a lot around Easter time.  Can anyone guess now?”

And with that, a little boy named Matthew raised his hand and said, with much contemplation:

“Well, I know the answer’s supposed to be Jesus, but it sounds like a rabbit to me.” 

They say there’s no faith like a child’s faith.  But sometimes the little boogers have us beaten in the reason department, too. 

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