On losing a tooth during communion and becoming like a child
Sam lost his second tooth yesterday. As his mother before him, bless the child, he would rather wiggle, wiggle, wiggle his loose tooth for weeks on end—even though, with as precariously as it’s hanging on, it’s only technically part of his mouth by time it falls out—than have to do the unthinkable and actually pull it out with his own hands.
Well, the long-awaited, much-anticipated moment came this past Sunday. At church. Right in the middle of the silence, beauty, and sacredness of the communion liturgy.
“We proclaim the mystery of faith: Christ has died. Christ has risen. Christ will come again.”
Sam: *wiggle wiggle wiggle*
“We celebrate the memorial of our redemption, O Father, in this sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving, and we offer you these gifts.”
Sam: *wiggle wiggle wiggle*
“Sanctify them by your word and Holy Spirit to be for your people that Body and Blood of your Son Jesus Christ. Sanctify us also, that we may worthily receive this Holy Sacrament, and be made one body with him, that he may dwell in us and we in him.”
Sam: *wiggle wiggle* *gasp* “MOM!”
“In the fullness of time, put all things in subjection under your Christ, and bring us with all your saints into the joy of your heavenly kingdom, where we shall see our Lord face to face.”
Sam: “MOM! MOM! MOM! MY TOOTH! LOOK! IT’S MY TOOTH!”
Me: [whispering] “Oh, yay! That’s great, sweetie! Shhhh, this is so exciting, but please try to whisper.”
“All this we ask through your Son Jesus Christ: By him, and with him, and in him, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, all honor and glory is yours, Almighty Father, now and forever. Amen.”
Sam: “MOM! I THINK MY MOUTH IS BLEEDING, BUT IT’S OKAY! I’M NOT SCARED! I’M BEING SO BRAVE! HERE, MOM! MOM! HOLD MY TOOTH!”
Me, having given birth to this precious child, but unwilling to touch his bloody, adorable, creepy tooth: [whispering]: “Wait, wait, wait, wait! No, no, no, no, no, no! Let me get a tissue to hold it in!”
“And now as our Savior Christ has taught us, we are bold to pray: Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come…”
Sam, to anyone sitting near us who will listen, while I scramble for a tissue: “LOOK GUYS! I FINALLY LOST MY TOOTH! *lifts tooth higher than the priest lifts the chalice* AND HERE! IT! IS!”
Our little pal, Eden, from the row behind us: “ALLELUIA!”
And there was laughter and laughter and laughter from anyone within earshot.
“…For the kingdom, the power, and the glory are yours, now and forever. Amen.”
Multiple people came up to us afterward to tell us how hard they laughed and how they’ll never forget it and how much joy it brought them and how grateful they are for the kids of our church and how they love to hear the low (and sometimes not-so-low) hum of chatter and life in every service.
Perhaps this is part of what Jesus meant when he called a child to him and told his disciples, “You need to change and become like little children. If you don't, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven” (Matt. 18:2-4), and “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them. For the Kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these” (Matt. 19:14).
If Jesus’s words are to be taken seriously, then kids aren’t the “future of the Church.” They are the Church of t o d a y,
leading us by their dependence,
teaching us by their trust,
setting the example by their curiosity,
instructing us by their vulnerability,
showing us what the kingdom is like by their wonder,
exhorting us by their Christ-like joy.