It's that time of year again when churches on every corner have banners and advertisements up for their Vacation Bible Schools. Most of the churches around here go all out for Bible school just as it should be.  The decorations, themed snacks, very involved crafts, and over the top props. The kids love it and how could they not?

I was looking through some pictures on Facebook that a church posted and I couldn't help but think how different it is now from when I went to Bible school. You know I'm all about some nostalgic strolls back in time, so here goes.

Back then, there were 3 kids who were selected to hold the American flag, the Christian flag, and the Bible. They were the big dogs for the day. As the pianist played a "marching in" song, everyone would file in behind the chosen three. I remember sitting down on the hard, creaky pews- my legs sticking to the varnished wood. Bible school was one of the few occasions when we could wear shorts to church, so it was beyond awesome. 

Anyway, there were no palm trees made from paper mache or larger than life jungle animals cut out of plywood or two story rocket ships made of foam core board like there are today. I don't recall any twinkly lights, large boulders fashioned from crumbled Kraft paper or beach scenes on the stage complete with an umbrella, Adirondack chairs, and wave sound effects. No, as I recall, there were just the preacher, the music minister, and the podium. Oh, but if you walked in and saw the slide projector set up, you knew it was going to be a really exciting day. 

Just below the chosen three were the six kids, who were picked each day to take up the offering (aka the change we found in between the vinyl car seats and in the bottom of our Mama's purses that morning.) These offering takers were the kids, who were runners up to the flag holders in the complex Bible school hierarchy system. I, myself, never submitted my name to be considered for any of these spots. I was really shy as a kid and had no interest in the front of the room. 

After we said our pledges, sang our songs, and took up the mission offering, it was off to our classroom.  We headed down the hall and there was no grassy pathway cut from indoor/outdoor carpeting leading to the room and our names weren't perfectly penned on laminated, themed shapes hanging from the ceiling.  There were no freshly cut stumps to sit on and no real tents set up in the room in which to have our lesson by lantern light. No, we walked in and the teacher was like, “You see those brown, folding chairs set up in a semi-circle facing the bulletin board? Go sit in those.....and don't run." Oh, those metal chairs were so cold on your bare legs, so you'd put your hands under them until it got warmed up. 

We didn't pretend like we were all on safari riding in a jeep and we didn't sit around a faux campfire made with a few logs and tissue paper flames, while we had our lesson. The teacher wasn't wearing a cowboy hat, didn't use a black light, and didn't bring in any live amphibians for us to pet. There were no stuffed monkeys hanging from the ceiling and no thoroughbred horses out in the parking lot for us to sit on. No, she just sat there in the brown folding chair with her Bible in her lap and those old school pictures that she'd pin to the bulletin board behind her when the time was right. Something like these might have, very well, been your only visual for the whole day, so you had to glean the most you could from it.
 
After we finished our story, it was time for crafts. Not the kind of crafts they do today. No, there was no going to another decorated room where supplies were laid out for some HGTV worthy craft....like building a coffee table or blowing your own colored glass or something. Back then, it was "Ok, now pick up your chair and take them back over to the tables, where we will have our craft. Do not slide the chairs because we don't want to disturb the class below us!" 

This was my favorite time in Bible school. I was all about some crafts. The same teacher would reach into the cabinet and get out a stack of construction paper, a few bottles of glue, some popsicle sticks, and a pack of those foil star stickers. On a really good craft day, we'd all be issued a baby food jar and maybe fabric scraps or a tin can and some old wallpaper sample books from which we'd fashion some really attractive keepsake. Something our mothers would feel obligated to display somewhere. 

On the days that the teacher would mix up the powder tempera paints, we'd be given a man's old shirt turned paint smock to protect our new summer shirts bought down at Sears and Roebuck. The teachers were always sure to warn you to be careful not to drip paint on your Buster Brown sandals, too. And if you finished your craft before everyone else, you were given a mimeographed coloring page and an old coffee can full of broken crayons as a time filler. 
 
While the beautiful crafts dried on another table, it was on to snack time. Let me tell you......there were no Pinterest-worthy snacks there. No, sir. No themed snacks for us. No bird nests made from chow mein noodles and jelly bean eggs. No edible Noah's arks fashioned with icing, graham crackers, and animal cookies. Not even any gummy fish suspended in blue Jell-O and served in clear cups.

We were old school.  "Ok, everybody go sit down and we'll pass out the butter ring cookies and the Dixie cups of tepid cherry Kool-Aid." There was nothing organic and nobody asked about food allergies or gluten. As the week would crescendo, you might get a chocolate sandwich cookie......not an Oreo, mind you, but a store brand chocolate sandwich cookie. Finally, the snacks would peak on Friday as the teacher would pass out the twin pop popsicles. There was no color requesting, though, because there just simply weren't enough reds to go around. Someone had to get orange and it might as well be you. Then, there was that year our church bought the snow cone machine.  Can you say Christmas in July?
 
Before it was time to go home, there was only one more stop.  Recreation.  Again, no themed games, because, well, there were no themes for our Bible schools back then except Jesus and, well, there aren't many games that can be played with a kickball that emulate Jesus. I suppose it's hard to take away any measure of spiritual growth, while attempting to hit other children in the head with a rubber, inflated ball in order to acquire points. There's nothing "Jesus" about that. So, what they did in the 70's, you see, was say, "Here's a ball. Go play and we won't try to draw any parallels between this and the lesson we just covered". This gave the teachers time to sit and visit and eat their vanilla ice cream cups with the wooden spoons, the upper echelon of snacks reserved for the teachers only.

After we all worked up a sweat and smelled like a herd of goats in a summer rain, it was time to gather our things to go home. We'd go check to see if the glue and paint on our craft had dried sufficiently to take it home. Oh, you always prayed it was so. There was nothing worse than having to leave your craft behind to dry.

I have fond memories of Bible school. I looked forward to that every year. It wasn't as fancy and decked out as it is today. I suppose if we did it the old school way now, these iPad/Xbox/iPhone kids would likely fall out of their unadorned chairs and hit their heads on the undecorated floors- completely overwrought with boredom. I guess you just have to rock along with the times. 

Either way, working in Bible school is a big job and whether you did it back in the days of paste jars, felt boards, and butter ring cookies or you're doing it now with your cellophane waterfalls, crape paper jellyfish, and choreographed songs, you're doing important work!