I wonder what comes to mind when you think of the word accommodation? Perhaps it’s a place to stay overnight with your friends in a different city, or when you look for an Airbnb on holiday.
Some of my close family live in the Swiss Alps (I know, how awful), and spending time with them in their alpine village is one of my greatest joys in life. The journey there is long - it can take 40 hours, with three long haul flights and two trains across Switzerland. But once I step into their front door, I feel like I am home. My family makes an amazing effort to get the guest room ready for me, and they stock up with all my favourite Swiss treats. And I feel so welcome.
And when other family members visit the alps, they are also accommodated and welcomed in different ways, with kids toys and playground equipment appearing for the kids, or stocking up a room full of snow-gear and sleds for fun in the snow in winter. Their posture of welcome is an overflow of the love they have for us.
A particular piece of the puzzle that might be helpful to explore in the conversation around intergenerational ministry is around the idea of accommodation.
It’s a posture of stooping down and putting ourselves in the shoes of others - and we, the Church, can have a posture of accommodation too.
Gareth Crispin writes about having a theology of accommodation in Intergenerate: Transforming Churches through Intergenerational Ministry.
In the Old Testament, we see God accommodating his people by constraining himself to being present in a tabernacle, a temple, so that God and the world could have a relationship. When Moses was up Mt Sinai with God for forty days, receiving the Ten Commandments, God accommodated him by passing by and letting him see his back, even though it was not safe to see God face-to-face. In Jesus, God accommodates us by sending his one and only Son as a human being, so that we can know more about the Father. As it says in John 6:46, “no one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known”.
Jesus accommodates us by giving us pictures, stories, prayers, and sacraments that help show us what the Father is like. And the Bible, in itself, written by human authors, is an accommodation from God. Pete Grieg from 24-7 Prayer describes how “the Bible is the primary way in which we hear God speaking. It is the very language of his heart.”
So what does this all have to do with intergenerational communities?
Hidden in this idea of accommodation is the fact that someone is doing the accommodating.
I know a retired couple who love to go to Australia on holiday. They love to go to Sydney for a long weekend and soak up the museums, art galleries, shops and fancy restaurants. A few years ago, they invited their children and their grandkids to come with them. They soon realised that the expectations of their usual holiday would have to change, to accommodate the needs of the young children they were travelling with. The art galleries didn’t have the same appeal with a toddler in tow, but they ended up discovering the aquarium, the wildlife parks, playgrounds, and botanic gardens. It wasn’t a second rate holiday because they had kids with them, it was a different holiday – and different could still be fun!
Those of us who have been kicking around the pews for longer, and whose voice and influence impacts the decisions made - we’re the ones who need to accommodate those who are newer to the church whānau. Those of us who have been walking with Jesus for years may need to accommodate those who have known Jesus for a shorter time. If we have a posture of accommodation, then the more knowledge or experiences of God you have and the more responsibilities in church you hold, the more you should accommodate others. And some of those people who we need to accommodate are our children.
It’s not done out of obligation, but like those grandparents on holiday, it's done out of a posture of love.
A posture of accommodation may impact the style of music, communion, worship services, hospitality and the way you use your spaces. It will impact the stories you tell, the examples you give, and the sermons that are preached.
Years ago, I worked for a church in south London, and we ran our children’s programmes out of a basic hall. It wasn’t flash, but when they refurbished the hall toilets, they put in one of those small toilets for preschoolers. I have to be honest here – I thought it was a stupid idea! If you’ve ever stood in a queue for the womens toilet, you’d understand why having one tiny toilet wasn’t often helpful!
One Sunday morning, a mum and her three-year-old daughter came to church for the first time, having recently moved into the area. I bumped into the mother in the bathroom, helping her child wash her hands at the basin, and she couldn’t believe how accommodating we had been to her preschooler – to have a toilet her size, and a basin her height. To her, it spoke of a church who cared about the small details and knew her child would be welcome.
Twenty years later, she’s still part of that church, and her daughter grew up in a church community who valued and cared for her. It’s a vivid reminder to me that sometimes the things I don’t see as important might be of value for others.
In any one community, a range of tastes, abilities, preferred styles, personalities, and desires will be found. And we can be fiercely passionate about our own personal preferences or needs. I prefer this type of music, or that type of worship style. I like eucharist like this, or prayer ministry like that. I like more formal liturgy, or more free flowing services.
The theology of accommodation is a process to model, to be taught, and to be practised.
And maybe the part I have to own is having a heart that accommodates those who have less power, influence or experiences of God than I do, so that they can be welcomed into a loving family of God, who walks alongside them in their faith journey, at their pace.
Check out other articles in the
series below.
More articles in the
series are to come.
We have invited these writers to share their experiences, ideas and opinions in the hope that these will provoke thought, challenge you to go deeper and inspire you to put your faith into action. These articles should not be taken as the official view of the Nelson Diocese on any particular matter.
I wonder what comes to mind when you think of the word accommodation? Perhaps it’s a place to stay overnight with your friends in a different city, or when you look for an Airbnb on holiday.
Some of my close family live in the Swiss Alps (I know, how awful), and spending time with them in their alpine village is one of my greatest joys in life. The journey there is long - it can take 40 hours, with three long haul flights and two trains across Switzerland. But once I step into their front door, I feel like I am home. My family makes an amazing effort to get the guest room ready for me, and they stock up with all my favourite Swiss treats. And I feel so welcome.
And when other family members visit the alps, they are also accommodated and welcomed in different ways, with kids toys and playground equipment appearing for the kids, or stocking up a room full of snow-gear and sleds for fun in the snow in winter. Their posture of welcome is an overflow of the love they have for us.
A particular piece of the puzzle that might be helpful to explore in the conversation around intergenerational ministry is around the idea of accommodation.
It’s a posture of stooping down and putting ourselves in the shoes of others - and we, the Church, can have a posture of accommodation too.
Gareth Crispin writes about having a theology of accommodation in Intergenerate: Transforming Churches through Intergenerational Ministry.
In the Old Testament, we see God accommodating his people by constraining himself to being present in a tabernacle, a temple, so that God and the world could have a relationship. When Moses was up Mt Sinai with God for forty days, receiving the Ten Commandments, God accommodated him by passing by and letting him see his back, even though it was not safe to see God face-to-face. In Jesus, God accommodates us by sending his one and only Son as a human being, so that we can know more about the Father. As it says in John 6:46, “no one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known”.
Jesus accommodates us by giving us pictures, stories, prayers, and sacraments that help show us what the Father is like. And the Bible, in itself, written by human authors, is an accommodation from God. Pete Grieg from 24-7 Prayer describes how “the Bible is the primary way in which we hear God speaking. It is the very language of his heart.”
So what does this all have to do with intergenerational communities?
Hidden in this idea of accommodation is the fact that someone is doing the accommodating.
I know a retired couple who love to go to Australia on holiday. They love to go to Sydney for a long weekend and soak up the museums, art galleries, shops and fancy restaurants. A few years ago, they invited their children and their grandkids to come with them. They soon realised that the expectations of their usual holiday would have to change, to accommodate the needs of the young children they were travelling with. The art galleries didn’t have the same appeal with a toddler in tow, but they ended up discovering the aquarium, the wildlife parks, playgrounds, and botanic gardens. It wasn’t a second rate holiday because they had kids with them, it was a different holiday – and different could still be fun!
Those of us who have been kicking around the pews for longer, and whose voice and influence impacts the decisions made - we’re the ones who need to accommodate those who are newer to the church whānau. Those of us who have been walking with Jesus for years may need to accommodate those who have known Jesus for a shorter time. If we have a posture of accommodation, then the more knowledge or experiences of God you have and the more responsibilities in church you hold, the more you should accommodate others. And some of those people who we need to accommodate are our children.
It’s not done out of obligation, but like those grandparents on holiday, it's done out of a posture of love.
A posture of accommodation may impact the style of music, communion, worship services, hospitality and the way you use your spaces. It will impact the stories you tell, the examples you give, and the sermons that are preached.
Years ago, I worked for a church in south London, and we ran our children’s programmes out of a basic hall. It wasn’t flash, but when they refurbished the hall toilets, they put in one of those small toilets for preschoolers. I have to be honest here – I thought it was a stupid idea! If you’ve ever stood in a queue for the womens toilet, you’d understand why having one tiny toilet wasn’t often helpful!
One Sunday morning, a mum and her three-year-old daughter came to church for the first time, having recently moved into the area. I bumped into the mother in the bathroom, helping her child wash her hands at the basin, and she couldn’t believe how accommodating we had been to her preschooler – to have a toilet her size, and a basin her height. To her, it spoke of a church who cared about the small details and knew her child would be welcome.
Twenty years later, she’s still part of that church, and her daughter grew up in a church community who valued and cared for her. It’s a vivid reminder to me that sometimes the things I don’t see as important might be of value for others.
In any one community, a range of tastes, abilities, preferred styles, personalities, and desires will be found. And we can be fiercely passionate about our own personal preferences or needs. I prefer this type of music, or that type of worship style. I like eucharist like this, or prayer ministry like that. I like more formal liturgy, or more free flowing services.
The theology of accommodation is a process to model, to be taught, and to be practised.
And maybe the part I have to own is having a heart that accommodates those who have less power, influence or experiences of God than I do, so that they can be welcomed into a loving family of God, who walks alongside them in their faith journey, at their pace.
Check out other articles in the
series below.
More articles in the
series are to come.
