With the spring children’s choir concert happening this Sunday night, now might be a good time to share a memory of my brush with children’s church choirs as a child.

I was raised in a home that was more or less “Chreaster.” That is to say that we went to church on Christmas and Easter and considered ourselves to be Christians. We did not think of ourselves a Chreasters. We were Christians. Things had happened that drew my parents away from regular church-going. I’ve never learned what happened. All I knew for sure was that we were both Christian and Baptist, but we didn't make a habit of going to church.

There was a time when, it had to be Kindergarten or younger, that my mom or one of my adult siblings tried to help me get to church more often than the two biggest holidays of the year. The children’s choirs at College Church call for a school-year-long commitment. Kids memorize hymns and practice weekly. When we have musicals, children audition. It’s a big deal. Nothing could be more different from the College Church children’s program than the one I was part of as a child. To even say that I was part of it seems a stretch.

For a short time, I went to church, junior church and Sunday school. The memories are vague, but I did find myself suddenly cast at the last minute in their children’s musical. I was one of the men in the boat in the story of Jonah. I think they had practice on Wednesday or Thursday, but I was doing good just to get to the church on Sunday. Looking back, I wonder, had some other boy gotten sick at the last minute and they needed someone—anyone—to fill his spot? Or did they feel sorry for me because of the economic level of my family? I mean, how did I get on the stage in front of the church with no preparation or training. I have no recollection of singing at all.

The only thing I remember is that I was the last kid on the boat. It was a badly constructed cardboard boat, and the stern where I stood kept coming detached from the rest of the vessel. I think the duct tape failed or maybe it wasn’t duct tape because it did fail. Would they have tried Scotch tape?

I tried to reattach it with no success. We have to maneuver the boat from one end of the platform to the other. Fortunately, we stopped in the middle. There must have been lines between Jonah and the captain. And we must have sung a song—though I can’t imagine what the unbelieving sailors on boat would be singing. But all I was trying to do was keep the stern attached to the rest of the boat, and it kept falling apart in full view of everyone. It fell off. I picked it up. It. fell off. I picked it up. It was especially tricky when we were trying to move the boat across the stage.

I need to tell you that there was laughter coming from the audience and I don’t think it was about Jonah asking us to throw him off the boat. The broken stern was an easy out to get him off the boat.

One man told me afterward that I “stole the show.” He said it like it was supposed to make me feel good. I didn’t know what that meant, but it sounded slightly criminal.

I don’t think I was too damaged by this, but I didn't learn the whole story of Jonah until much later. Now as an adult interested in stagecraft, I wonder, how did they do the whale scene? I’ll bet they ended with the people repenting and skipped the whole ending with the dead plant.

Looking back at this experience makes me grateful for the care that our adult volunteers take in teaching children music and the Bible passages on which the music is based. If you go to the choir concert, know that the volunteers don’t really want to get much attention. It’s all about the kids, not them.

And as a child who didn’t get much training from the well-meaning people who cast me as the last sailor on the boat, I’d like to thank the choir volunteers who work so hard year after year to teach the kids gospel truth through music.

Life sometimes brings us poorly constructed props that fall apart. We can make them over or get better tape. We can build our prop boat over if there's time. Sometimes we ourselves might be the poorly constructed parts. I’ve seen churches in other places of the world who have to stop their building projects because they’ve run out of money, and they’re trying to hold their ministry together like I was trying to hold the boat together with my little boy hands. Somehow God still uses broken things to bring new life to the lost, hope to the hopeless, good news to the undeserving. His work, not ours. His glory alone. That’s the stealer of the show. When we think it’s all about one thing, Jesus turns it all upside down. And here we are—forgiven Ninevities on the road to heaven.

Enjoy the music.