Elvis in Rapture, or How to Survive Church Services with Kids

We have raised the kids to be fairly religious throughout their lives. We're blessed with a parish that accepts children in services, even when they get a bit loud or inappropriate. Our priest actively encourages parent's to bring children as well, so we've always felt very comfortable. We have, however, had our share of mishaps in church - some humorous, some mortifying. In retrospect, they are all now humorous, but I do wonder how we got through some of them.

There was the time the youngest munchkin was acting up around the age of 3, so his father took him by the hand and whispered, "I'm taking you to the car!" Three-year-olds have amazingly loud and clear voices in such situations, I've found. To our horror, this small, sweet, angelic child shouted out, "GOOD! It was boring in here anyway!" Certain members of the congregation still snicker when they see this child. He is also the one that found the bingo machine at the tender age of 2. Two-year-olds have an amazing knack for finding out how to remove the lids of things, and then finding the power switch. Stories still float around about the bingo balls that were flying everywhere and the small boy trying to catch them and put them back in, sensing his own impending doom. I won't even go into the potty training years on church grounds. Suffice to say the child was never modest and the priest had never had small children around much. Use your imagination from there.

The older boy had his moments as well. There was the time, when he was all of 4, that he became convinced the priest was actually Jesus. No amount of explaining was going to deter him. Finally, after a long talk, he said, "So Jesus is in the church still, right?" We agreed and told him that Jesus was just invisible. He digested this for two days and we thought we had finally gotten him over this weird obsession. Sunday came. We are experienced parents, we really should have known better. As the service began, the priest led the procession down the center aisle towards the alter. My precious 4-year-old stood up on the pew and screamed out, "See mom? I TOLD you we could see Jesus!" as he pointed to the priest. More snickers from the congregation. We're known in that church.

The kids, when they became of age, all wanted to be alter servers. Munchkin #1 began the trend and she has been doing it for the better part of six years now. Her brother joined her the next year when he became eligible. He's never been as comfortable as she is, but he's found the things he likes to do and does them. He's not the type to branch out to new things, as she is. Different styles for different kids.

Meanwhile, the youngest sat in the pews and anxiously awaited his turn to be up on the alter. By the time he was approaching the right age though, he had already been diagnosed with the Tourette's and his repertoire of tics was quite impressive - and disruptive. We worried. We're parent's; that's our job. I spoke to the priest, who basically didn't even want to hear my concerns. He told me if any child in the entire congregation, regardless of any other issues whatsoever, wanted to be a server, he would be happy to have them. He's a wonderful man and true to his word, he trained the youngest three times longer than anyone else until the munchkin was comfortable, and then he brought him up during a service. He's been serving for two years now and loves it. This is one of the only places he does not fight with his brother and sister - he tells us God is watching, so he must be on his best behavior. I tell God to keep watching!

His tics don't go away on the alter, but most people have learned to ignore them. Sometimes it's more difficult, such as when he's making rather rude sounds during a reading, or shaking his arms when carrying the jug of wine. We still worry - it's still our job. But today, things were going fairly smoothly. I had taken the oldest and the youngest to church by myself as munchkin #2 and hubby were at an all day wrestling tournament.

Munchkin #3 was having few tics here and there, but nothing overly noticeable and nothing too disruptive. Then, they hit. I realized he had been trying to hold them back because when he does, they will explode out of him after a while. This was an explosion. The entire congregation was singing "Gloria," and I began to hear the odd snicker. I know that sound, I have "mother's ears" that focus in on it instantly. Looking up to the back of the alter, I can see my youngest son in the throws of some pretty severe physical tics. Of course, given their nature, I'm probably the only one who realized they were indeed tics. As we sang out "Gloria" there he was, raising his arms up in the air repeatedly, head going back over and over, mouth opening, and body shaking. He looked like either the rapture had taken hold, or he was channeling the spirit of Elvis. Or, some weird combination of the two. I looked over at my daughter, who was actively snickering. I looked at the priest. He had wisely closed his eyes to avoid laughing. Meanwhile, Elvis in rapture continued on. I wanted to crawl under the pew, or laugh hysterically - I wasn't sure which. Instead, I lowered my eyes and sang, willing us all to just get through the song.

We did get through it, and his tics waned as the energy began to get used up in him. I mouthed to not hold them back and he nodded. The rest of the service I could see that he still had tics, but they were more manageable. The service ended and I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding. One more mass under our belts and the spirit of Elvis seemed to be behaving.

After the mass, I had to wait for the kids to take off their robes, etc. People came up to me and told me what lovely children I have. No one mentioned Elvis or rapture, only that it was so nice to see them serving God, and so nice to see the older one helping the younger throughout. This, my friends, is what being a Christian is all about. Overlooking the imperfections we all have and seeing the positive. We are very lucky.