I called her Jack. She called me Bill. Everybody else called me Roddy, my kid-name, and they caller her Dodo, short for Doris. But those names don’t really work when you’re in the backyard, down in the dirt, playing Moon Base One with your favorite grown-up.

“Roddy to Dodo, come in Dodo. This is Roddy, ready for lift-off. Over.”

“Roger Roddy, this is Dodo over. I’m ready, Roddy.”

See what I mean? The names had to change. So Doris Waller, my sixty-something Godmother became Jack, and she named me Bill. And when I was older, William.

“Bill to Jack, we’re ready for lift-off, over.”

“Jack to Bill, I copy that. Over.”

It worked! But something else was working in that Southern California backyard. Jack was making an impression on her Godson Bill, an impression to last a lifetime.

I remember Sherman Oaks in the mid-1960’s: lots of bungalow houses with quaint backyards, nestled back in the hills that wrapped around the San Fernando Valley. My mom turned off my favorite street,Valley Vista Blvd, the one lined with palm trees, and drove down the hill to Tustin Street, and up the short but steep driveway to Jack’s house, to the garage where Jack parked her Nash Metropolitan, a little pink car, I think about half the size of a Volkswagen. But that’s not what made the impression on me.

Jack made fun-food like celery sticks with peanut butter, and had a special box in the closet with all my toys. Her husband was a Hollywood movie actor, Eddie Waller, who usually played the sidekick in the old westerns. But that’s not what made the impression on me. It was this: She was the only adult who got down in the dirt with me. She had garden beds around the edge of her yard, mostly with bright pansies and roses, but one patch in the corner was left unplanted, packed with beautiful, brown, moist, cloddy dirt. Yes! That was our corner of the yard. Moon Base One. She hauled out the box of toys, we set up the launch pad and command center and began to play, down on the kid-level. Bill and Jack. Jack and Bill. And though neither of us knew it, we were standing on—or should I say kneeling, sitting, digging into—holy ground.

“William. Where have you been?” Jack’s voice was different the day a twenty year-old Bill came home from college and called her on the dial-up phone. I remember the hurt in her voice. She never lost the connection with me, though I had drifted from keeping in touch with her. When she passed away, and the box of toys came back to my house, I began to feel the loss. The closeness we shared out there in the backyard became a bond that would never be broken.

Back in college, I was pursuing my degree in Bible, studying this Jesus who got down in the dirt with His Creation. From a professor (and author) Gayle D. Erwin I learned about “The Jesus Style” of ministry. He talked about how God came to where we were, how He became a man, to better relate to men. He left behind his glorious place in Heaven, Gayle taught, and walked the dusty streets, meeting man eye-to-eye, to win him heart-to-heart.

Fast forward to 2008, just a few weeks ago. I’m 52 years old, a husband and a dad, out in the backyard, revving up my 12 volt power-drill, which looks kind of like a ray-gun, and sounds a little like a robot, building an arbor in our backyard, and here comes my little buddy from next door, Andrew. “Hey Wod, (Rod), watcha doin’?” I tell him I’m building an arbor, then remembering he’s 3, I tell him I’m building a… big thing like the porch in his backyard, only different. “Why?” He asks. I start to explain, and then get down on his level. “Andrew, you want to help me?” He nods with a big smile, and I let him hold the drill gun while I drive a screw into a piece of scrap wood. Later we find our way back to my house, and pull my two boxes of happy meal toys out of the closet. “Let’s play wace, Wod! (race, Rod!)” We set the toys in a starting line-up. Except the shark, he cheats. And bites. Bad shark. And there I am, the roles reversed, down on the carpet, on holy ground again.

Three year-old Andrew, sixty-something Jack, and most importantly, Jesus Christ, modeled what ministry to children should be, at the heart, at ground-level. It should be you and I, seeking out children, and meeting them where they are. Dirt-level ministry. It’s the Jesus Style, as Gayle taught me. Check out Philippians 2:5-8:

“Have this attitude in yourselves which was also in Christ Jesus, who, although He existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied Himself, taking the form of a bond-servant, and being made in the likeness of men. Being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself…” 

It doesn’t mean you have to pull up the pansies and plant a space station in your backyard, though I’ll come right over if you do. J Paul is telling the Philippians it’s an attitude. An approach. Maybe something like this:

Kid-Level Children’s Ministry

A Field Guide
(Space station not included)

FIRST, THIS: Getting down on a child’s level is more difficult than it used to be. They’re not down in the dirt like they were in the mid 60’s. They’re glued to monitor screens, typing plastic keys, holding game controllers, etc. Because computers, websites, game systems, cell phones, MP3 players—all kinds of media—these are the toys of our time. Of course these toys bring their own kind of dirt. Anyway, it takes effort to pull them away, and build a genuine relationship.  

SECOND, THIS: That actually works in our favor. When we do get down on kid-level, not just to talk them into coming to Sunday School, but to really become a friend, it’s an out-of-the-ordinary thing. It’s the chance to make an impression. The chance to plant a fresh garden where God can grow His love and life.

NOW THIS: Try these kid-level strategies, as the Holy Spirit leads you, and see what happens.

1. Survey your children’s ministry. Does it have a system for getting to know kids one by one? I love the large-scale approach to ministry, with drama, lights, actors, music, video, and yes, even the game systems to attract the un-churched children. But somewhere in there, we need to get to know each child, hear their heart, find their needs, and help grow them into their calling.
2. Look at the interactivity potential. Is there a way for children to make friends? They may love the craft time, the teaching, the praise, the fun; that’s great. But in the midst of it all, there must be a way for kids to get to know each other. The Friendship Factor paves the way to Biblical togetherness, and builds a model for the future. It says: you must have Christian friends at the core of your life.
3. As necessary, implement new strategies. Integrate activities that foster personal relationships. This requires more work, costs more money, and takes more time. But it brings the New Testament model of being the Body of Christ into everyday experience. Children are 100% Christians, after all, not mini-Believers. As they talk about their faith to each other, pray for one another, become involved in ministering one to another, it’s spiritual exercise, and the Body of Christ grows stronger!
4. Train staff to adopt a relational approach. OK, it’s a challenge. First, there are so many kids in that room. Second, it’s early Sunday morning, and some of us are just not awake and smiley yet! So it’s a retraining process, to help us realize that every child within our walls must be individually recognized, with a “Hey, glad you’re here,” and a “I don’t think I’ve met you, what’s your name?” or a “Great to have you back! How was your baseball game?” What a difference that can make!
5. Encourage kids to minister to other kids. This is perhaps the biggest challenge of all. Some kids are chatty, friendly, some are quiet, withdrawn. But all kids can be used by the Lord to reach out to another kid. God has been using children for a long time; in fact, Jesus says they’re the greatest in the Kingdom. Once they see the power and the practice of friendliness, making sure other kids feel at home, including visitors in games and conversations, etc., it will catch on. The clique circles will be break-able, flexible, open to including new personalities. And it will be dynamic!

But beyond the strategies and training, it’s a heart-approach. An adventure. And when it works, it’s spiritually fulfilling. Like the moment you first realize you are important to a child. More than dynamic, it’s divine. In fact, every time we cross pathways with a child, of any age, it’s a divine opportunity. It’s a backyard, down-in-the-dirt experience, a one-to-one, Jesus Style moment, where heaven touches earth. It’s a seed planted in the soil. It’s a tree that will grow with branches for bird nests, shade for travelers, fruit delicious and delightful. We’ll never know the difference it can make.

“Jack to Bill, do you read me, over?”

“Hey, Wod, watcha doin’?”

“Heaven to Rod, Heaven to Rod, come in, over. There’s a kid standing over there. See him? You don’t have to leave church that quickly. Get over there. Meet his parents. Get down, say hello. Give him a Coconut Hut sticker. Make him smile. What are you waiting for? Over.”