What inspired me the most was the littlest of girls kneeling outside her pew in the middle aisle, presumably so she could see. I have always thought it a bit insane to put little kids in a pew in the middle of a church. Sandwiched between two other pews they can’t see over, maybe they’re seated behind some robust fellow along with his wife, who is sporting big hair and wearing an enormous Easter bonnet.

Under these circumstances, do we expect children to sit still and keep quiet for an hour or more? Nonetheless, kids are still trying to figure out what is going on. I will never forget our 4-year-old granddaughter leaning over to her grandmother just after the consecration and asking, “Is that really blood?” She was listening to the priest’s words, and she could see him lift the chalice, since we were sitting up front with no one in front of us.

Risks and rewards

I understand that it is a risk taking children up to the front pews. If they do misbehave, it will be obvious to the whole congregation. But as my wife always says, “The Church wants us to have all these children. So, let the Church live with it for one hour a week, just like we have to for 20 years.” And, we know that not every child will be suited to it.

But is it really such a risk to sit upfront? Maybe not, as long as you prepare kids for what they are going to see and hear. Prompt them during Mass as to what is happening that you had previously told them about. Help them sing the hymns and parts of the Mass. And, reward them after for being engaged and well-behaved. You might end up very proud of their good behavior, not embarrassed by a tantrum (though if the child is 3 or younger, all bets are off).

Rather than praying by yourself with your child beside you, let your prayer be done with your child, letting him or her hear you pray in words they can understand. As far as your personal piety and participation, being in Mass and trying so hard with your children is pleasing to God beyond any formal prayers you may utter.

Consider also getting your children all dressed up in their favorite outfits and buy them their own special children’s Missal to follow along with the Mass. Those two points of personal pride — clothes and their own book — might help them be more excited about attending Mass with Mom and Dad on Sunday.

Into the action

Still, the most important thing remains: Get kids up front where they can see and be involved. You wouldn’t take them to a baseball game and expect them to sit quietly behind a pillar in the upper deck. We don’t put them in desks or tables at school where they can’t see the teacher.

So, let them see the priest, the lector, the young servers who are not much older than them. Point out what the servers are doing and that your child can do that too someday. Let them see the priest speaking from the pulpit and the cantor singing the responsorial psalm. Encourage your child to sing along, pointing out the words.

As a cantor myself I have heard infant voices that aren’t quite singing, but they aren’t crying or screaming either. These are their first attempts at singing, something we all want to do, even before we can talk — whatever tune they can manage, let them sing!

Watch with your child as the congregants approach for Communion. Help your little one appreciate all the people who are manifesting the beauty and image of God — whether they are older, infirmed or physically challenged. Especially if you have a second-grader, whisper to your child that they, too, will receive their first holy Communion soon. Explain that each person is contributing in some way to the work of the Church, performing some function of the mystical body of Christ.

Of course, when your child goes up to Communion with you, it will be a wonderful diversion, allowing for some much needed action and participation in the liturgy.

It’s all worth it

In the end, every squirming toddler, every off-key hum, every wide-eyed question whispered at the wrong moment are not disruptions to the Mass — they are part and parcel of it. They show the Church alive and renewing herself, generation by generation. The little girl kneeling in the aisle to catch a glimpse of something greater than herself is doing exactly what we should be doing: straining forward, trying to see, looking toward the Lord.

When we bring our children into the fullness of the liturgy — not hidden away in the back, but present, watching, wondering, participating — we are handing on the most precious gift one generation can give to the next. And on the day your child receives our Lord for the first time, you will know, without any doubt, that every restless Sunday morning was worth it.