After morning worship at our church, congregants head to the basement to enjoy coffee and snacks during “Chit Chat Time”; behind them, banners promoting Sunday school classes line a wall. After a time of mingling, a bell rings, signalling that Sunday school classes are about to begin.
Admittedly, attendance in our Sunday school classes is low, resources are scarce, and trained teachers are limited. Discussions have also emerged regarding the need for Sunday school, a common reply being that what is taught there can be easily found online. This is the age when information is instantly available when circumstances require. What does church history have to do with my current job? A Christian apologetics class to do with my long list of household chores? An in-depth study of the Old Testament tabernacle to do with my studies at school?
Granted, this reality constitutes a large part of my day. The children nag me about dinner, a grocery trip is overdue, and my fridge is nearly empty; a quick search online for a recipe later, and voilà! Pan-seared tilapia with lemon-butter sauce. Type in a search engine “hoarse cough, difficulty breathing” for my sick child and I learn not only the diagnosis but also at-home remedies. Information accessed when the situation calls for it is efficiency at its best.
But can we apply this practice to Christian living?
An opportunity for evangelism comes: search online for how to clearly articulate the gospel. A controversial discussion emerges with a co-worker: search online for the biblical position on the matter. A friend seeks spiritual counsel: search online for the appropriate Scripture to share with her.
But we are missing something vital when we do the Christian life this way. Partaking in a Sunday school ministry all these years, I have seen three benefits of committing to continual Christian education alongside my church family.
It prepares me for life’s unpredictable moments.
I can recall many moments in my life as a Christian when I was not ready to respond to a non-believer asking about or challenging my faith. Some of the exchanges play out vividly in my mind, when I replied insecurely, ignorantly, and sometimes, outright wrongly.
A quote I came across in high school has remained with me: “Luck is when preparation meets opportunity.” It implies, of course, that luck really has nothing to do with it—preparation does. We find this instruction in Scripture: “But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have” (1 Peter 3:15). We are to be prepared “in season and out of season” (2 Timothy 4:2-5).
Life has its share of unpredictable moments. Once, exasperated by my then four-year-old son’s misbehaviour, I prayed over him; he interrupted me mid-prayer, saying, “If God doesn’t want me to sin, then why does he let me?” A former co-worker once brought a poster illustrating in detail the evolutionary process, playfully poking fun at me: “How could you not believe this?” Not long ago, a university student, a non-Christian, approached me because he did not understand concepts in his sociology of religion course (“What was the Protestant Reformation?” he asked).
The parent with the diaper bag, the driver with the spare tire, the hiker with the umbrella: every day we equip ourselves for the unpredictable. But what about unpredictable encounters with wandering, questioning, and curious souls? Are we ready to maximize these opportunities by ministering to them with truthful and thoughtful responses?
It takes time for Christian teaching to soak in.
While there are certainly moments when we will need to press the Hold button, sincerely asking the person if they might wait on us to investigate the proper biblical response, how much more credible or convincing would we be if that material had already been stewing in our Christian life? It takes time for our hearts and minds to not only learn and understand, but to soak in Christian teaching, such that its aroma, juiciness, and tenderness can be tasted, even savoured, by others.
The psalmist expresses his desire for the living word of God to abide in his heart so that his life bears fruit (Psalm 1:2-3; 119:11). The word of Christ is to dwell in us richly so that we can teach and counsel others with wisdom (Colossians 3:16). At first, I am my fumbling toddler, excitedly belting out “A – B – C – D – F – G!” But I ought not to be satisfied with this preliminary learning. As I seek to grow more like Christ, my learning must persist: “And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength” (Mark 12:30-31).
Sunday school can be a good setting for this process—learning that takes place in a diverse community where open dialogue can occur. After morning worship, anyone is welcome to join the classes: the seasoned believer, the recent convert, the scholar, the inquisitive seeker, the university graduate, the new parent, the retiree. Through animated discussions stimulated by class content, I have witnessed beautiful dynamics among them. Listening to individuals respond in different ways widens our perspective and pushes us to interact more conscientiously with the material, all the while glorifying God as we learn together as a church family.
It creates bolder, more intentional servants for Christ.
Over a decade ago, I enrolled in a series of writing workshops. Passionate but not always diligent when writing in isolation, I became energized by these opportunities to write and share my writing with other aspiring writers.
Remaining idle or passive within our communities is a perpetual temptation. Learning about the Bible, theology, and other pertinent topics together with brothers and sisters in Christ can move us to become more intentional in our own spiritual development and bolder as we engage with those in our areas of influence (2 Timothy 1:6-7). In a Sunday school setting, we are like soldiers readying ourselves for battle, arming ourselves with “the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God” (Ephesians 6:17). Through fellowship and prayer, and by the power of the Spirit, we muster courage and invoke solidarity as we spur one another on through mutual encouragement (Hebrews 10:24-25).
We may not even know each other well but come to treasure one another’s presence in class every week. These bonds foster a tacit accountability that facilitates discipline: “I won’t be here for the next two weeks,” one felt obliged to inform. “What can I do at work to commemorate the Reformation?” another recently asked. “That Christian book you mentioned, can I borrow it?”
In this twenty-first-century secular landscape, we find ourselves confronting increasing opposition to biblical Christianity, and we must be ready to stand firm (Ephesians 6:13). Sunday school is only one means by which believers can prepare themselves, but it is a valuable one.
