Vacation Bible School (commonly known as VBS) is part of our culture, and not only the “church” culture. VBS is an event that many churches put on in the hope of reaching out to families through children. The hope is that the good news of Jesus Christ and His victory over sin and death will be received in faith by the children who attend the event. The hope is also that the parents of the children might discover a church home if they do not have one. These are noble hopes.
The attraction of VBS from a parents point of view is a couple of things: First, it is a week of cheap (if not free) babysitting for a few hours each night. Second, it seems like it might even be “good for” little Johnny or Susie to hear some things about Jesus. Maybe they’ll behave better … it can’t hurt.
I did not grow up going to church, but I did go to VBS one year. It was held in the living room of a nice lady who lived down the street from us. I don’t remember much about it. I was five years old and I went along with the other 6 or so kids from the neighborhood. The lady was friendly, she gave us Kool-Aid and cookies, there was a flannel board with sheep, and I remember repeating a prayer that included the words, “Jesus, please forgive me and come into my heart.”
For a week or so after the living room VBS, all of us kids in the neighborhood were Christians. The nice lady ended up moving away soon after that, and I never went to another VBS. Our families never went to church. I don’t even know which church the nice lady attended.
When I was twelve years old a very random thing happened. I picked up a Bible, cracked it open to the middle (Psalms), began reading, and found faith. I started going to church, my family followed me, and I have been in a position of ministry most of my adult life. Random, indeed. It’s like God threw a dart at a map and said, “Him. He will be my follower!”
Did it have anything to do with the nice lady, the flannel sheep and the prayer asking Jesus into my heart? I don’t know. It might, since I remember it so well. There are a lot of other things that I do not remember from when I was five years old.
This week I was part of CrossPoint’s VBS extravaganza. It was worlds beyond six neighborhood kids in a nice lady’s living room. We had a full-on rock band, lights, cameras, multimedia, drama, costumes, games, crafts and all kinds of excitement in addition to teaching, prayer, Kool-Aid and cookies. It was a great success from every measurable standpoint. It looked good, it sounded good, it was well attended, and there were smiling people everywhere. I hope that our big production makes it even more memorable to the kids than the flannel sheep were to me. I hope that nothing we did got in the way of the simple message of Jesus’ forgiveness.
We may or may not see these kids and their families in church. We may or may not ever hear what this week meant to them. We planted seeds, and we will mostly not see what grows from them.
Whoever that nice lady was in 1969, in the small town of Edinburg, Illinois, that hosted her own VBS in her living room, whoever you were, I want to say thank you. I may not know your name, but I remember you. Believe it or not, that little seed grew.