The Nursery: Fairy Tale or Nightmare?

Have you ever wondered what it might be like to be new to your building, congregation, or worship service?

By J. Diane Awbrey

The fairy tale

Like Goldilocks in the Three Bears’ house, visitors to your church are often looking for a good fit. They are trying out the facilities, services, special ministries, testing their softness, temperature, and size. Have you ever wondered what it might be like to be new to your building, congregation, or worship service?

In the last year, my husband and I looked for a church home. In the process, we wandered across some surprising and sometimes amusing practices. Some churches have become too comfortable with their routines and forgotten what it’s like to be a stranger. Our experience may be instructive for those who don’t have opportunity to visit other churches or hear from visitors to their own church.

The nightmare

One particular experience illustrates several issues that crop up for visitors with small children. One morning we visited a church of about 400. We had never been to the building before, so we knew nothing of its layout. Our first priority was to find childcare for our 2-year-old. Everyone seemed to be entering through the same double doors, so we did too. A lively crowd jammed the lobby, nearly blocking the entrance. Everyone was talking, obviously friendly, familiar, and happy to be there.

Since we didn’t see any greeters, ushers, or signs for the nursery in the entrance, we followed a woman in front of us carrying a child comparable in age to ours. We hoped she was going to the nursery. We stumbled and pushed through the crowded lobby and hallway three-quarters of the way around the building. When we reached the other woman’s destination at the end of a long hall, it was the baby nursery. Her daughter was a few months younger than ours. The attendant suggested we take our child to the 2- and 3-year-old room.

“Where is that?” we had to ask.

She stared back blankly. “Uh, let me ask.” She called to a young woman in the hallway. “Do you know where the 2-year-olds are?”

She thought she did, so she led us back through the crowd to the very first classroom off the entrance. On the way she greeted friends, stopped to answer questions, but never once talked to us. At the door, our guide disappeared without a word, so we wandered into the room and waited for a greeting.

The attendants busied themselves with other children while we stood. Our daughter spotted a toy across the room, so in she went. Finally, I approached an attendant and called her attention to our daughter. “She’ll be fine,” she said, and started to turn away.

“We’re new here. What should we do?”

“Just leave her here. We’ll watch her.”

Would you like to know her name? I thought. “Her name is Grace. We’ll be in the sanctuary.”

“Where in the sanctuary?”

“Well, since we’re new here, I’m not sure. Probably on the right-hand side, halfway down” (our usual seat in any church). They exchanged no numbers, gave us no names, and made no response to the information that we were visitors.

We made our way to the sanctuary, sat halfway down on the right-hand side, and waited for the service.

What’s wrong with this picture?

What can be learned from this experience? Let’s start with signage. What is the first thing visitors see, hear, or feel when they walk into your church? Do different entrances send different messages? Have you walked around your building (or better yet, sent a stranger through) and followed the signs to your restrooms, nursery facilities, or fellowship hall?

Imagine walking into your lobby or entryway with a 2-year-old in tow. What is the first thing you would be looking for? How can you alleviate the anxiety of visitors who don’t know your facilities? Better signage? An information booth? Well-trained greeters?

The energy and enthusiasm we felt among the congregation in their greetings to each other spoke well of the fellowship and community among this group of believers. But the lack of attention to basic questions that visitors may have upon entering the building sent a message that outsiders were not welcome in this club.

Too cold

Second, let’s talk about childcare. In the church we visited, it seemed the right hand didn’t know (or care) what the left hand was doing. The nursery workers didn’t know where the 2-year-olds were. To our guide, we were obviously a detour on her normal Sunday morning routine of greeting friends and taking care of other business. The childcare system itself was less than reassuring, offering no double checks about who would pick up the children, what their names were, or how parents would be called from the service if they were needed. Beyond this, every person we encountered on our way to drop off our daughter displayed indifference to our status as visitors.

Too hot

Although that church exhibited too little interest in childcare controls, we once visited a church that went too far the other way. In this large church, the childcare area was micromanaged by a militant woman who clearly valued system over people. Children for second service were not to be dropped off before children from first service were completely picked up. Never mind that the church only allowed 10 minutes between services, causing a traffic jam of people both coming and going.

Parents were not allowed into childcare rooms under any circumstances. Children could not be picked up without the numbered bracelet that corresponded to the numbered line on her chart where the child’s name was registered. Somehow my husband, wearing the requisite bracelet, slipped into the room with Grace. When I came to collect them both, I was severely rebuffed for not having my bracelet. This worker’s style may simply amuse or slightly annoy regulars, but to newcomers, she was a formidable gatekeeper.

Just right

The best nursery facility I have encountered offered a check-in station that separated regulars from visitors with a clearly marked place at the counter for newcomers. This specially designated area told me that the worker on the other side already anticipated my unfamiliarity with the routine. She treated me with respect and taught me her church’s childcare system. Nursery workers were trained to greet visitors, teach them the system, and make them feel comfortable in their new environment. Their system was every bit as complex as the second church’s, but the workers displayed a genuine interest in people first, then controls. This simple difference alleviated much stress for us so we could concentrate on other aspects of the church.

Conclusion

Although signage and nursery systems have little bearing on a church’s ultimate value to the kingdom of God, paying attention to these details can minimize visitors’ frustrations. And visitors become attendees, attendees become members, and members keep the life of your particular limb of the body of Christ going. Think about being a visitor to your church. See what you can do to make it easier for visitors to determine more quickly whether it is too big, too small, too hot, too cold, or just right in their search for a good fit.

J. Diane Awbrey, Ph.D., is a free-lance writer. She lives in South Burlington, Vermont.