Some folk get really uppity when kids start making noises in church. I don't even have to look around to see the reactions, 'cause I can feel the slight shift in the atmosphere as twenty or thirty pairs of elderly eyeballs all roll at once.
Yesterday during the intercessions at church, a kid -- little more than a baby, really -- started getting a bit restless. In between querying, "Mommy?" (Grandma was looking after her in Mommy's absence), she kept barking like a seal. It was enough to provide the choirgirls with some amusement.
I must admit, my reaction whenever I hear kids squeaking and squealing in church is usually the same: I beam from ear to ear. To me it's a sign of life; and even when it's a massive interruption, it's a sign of the messiness of being 'church'. It's a reminder that we're not supposed to be a company of shining talents pulling off a sparkling performance for God each week, but a community of diverse people.
We're something of a motley crew, in fact, and our only qualification for participation does not lie in ourselves, but in the grace of God that reconciles us as one community.