I often say that I don’t watch television, but that is only partially true. I do watch short videos on the computer, mostly from YouTube. I’m especially prone to watching those videos when I have a little time that is not filled by other activities. At the end of the day, I’ll sometimes unwind by watching a few videos instead of reading, which is not the way I used to be. I don’t have any particular reason for not watching television except that network television bores me, or at least I often feel like I’m wasting my time when watching television. I understand that making video is a type of storytelling, and I appreciate storytelling. I guess that for most of my adult life, I’ve always found other things that I enjoy more than watching television.

Still, I do watch videos. One type of video that I enjoy is that of a particularly talented musician. I’m drawn to videos of child prodigies. There are many videos of especially young children playing incredibly difficult piano pieces with ease. Somehow watching that kind of video led to watching videos of flash mobs. I like ones where a full orchestra emerges from a crowd and performs an orchestral piece.

One of the things that amuses me in those videos is the reactions of children to the music. The videographers often focus on young children who are waving their arms and dancing to the music. There is something powerful about a child who becomes totally lost in the music, dancing with their entire being.

In a recent interview with Krista Tippett, Kevin Kling, author of “The Dog Says How,” spoke of his childhood connection with his grandparents: “And I think we were in the same light. I mean, I was in the dawn, and they were in the twilight, but we were in the same light. And because of that, they’re heading to the creator, and I’m coming from the creator. And it seemed, because of that, we spoke a very similar language.”

I’m not sure that I fully accept the duality that he sets up between this world and the next, but there is some sense that as we grow into our senior years, we recover a bit of the joy and appreciation of that which is beyond. At any rate, I feel like I understand the perspective of children a bit better than I have at some points in my life.

Perhaps it isn’t understanding as much as it is appreciation. I feel grateful to be allowed to witness the unbridled joy and enthusiasm of children. When we were parents of young children, I was concerned about how other people, especially those older than I, might react to our children. I worked to teach them manners. We talked about “inside” and “outside” voices. When our daughter learned to manipulate the adults in our church to get a treat before the coffee hour, I interrupted the process. When she tried to get more from the rummage sale than her money should have purchased, I set limits. Now, as a grandfather, I don’t worry about that kind of thing. When my granddaughter dresses herself in a costume that includes her favorite socks and a pink tutu and a hat along with a bunch of other layers, I just appreciate her spirit and her creativity. Had our daughter dressed herself the same way, I might have tried to tell her that costumes are great for dress up and Halloween, but not for a trip to the library. I remember when she was young limiting her choices when it came to clothing. Her summer clothes weren’t in her closet in the winter. I’d say, “Do you want to wear this, or this,” giving her only two choices and distracting her from the wide number of outfits available. These days, I find as much joy in the choices our grandchildren make as they do in making them.

I think there really is something about the oldest and youngest members of the family sharing the same light while the middle generation has a different perspective. Then again, I suppose it is possible that I’m just a bit less responsible than I used to be.

This Sunday Susan and I are responsible for the “Moments with Children” in the worship service at our church. We’ll be taking responsibility for those moments several times in the next few months as we are introduced to the congregation as the ministers of faith formation. Our position is an interim. We’ll only be doing this for 18 to 24 months while the congregation forms a vision of new directions for their faith formation ministries and church staffing. When we were active in our careers, I didn’t give too much time to children’s sermons or moments with children. Often Susan took responsibility for that part of worship. When it was my turn, I’d come up with an idea and execute it almost off the top of my head. At least I didn’t invest the kind of time in that part of worship that I would in a pastoral prayer or sermon. But I’ve been excited about getting to lead the moments with children all week long. It is only Thursday, and I’ve been practicing. I keep refining the presentation. When I think about it, I have a big smile on my face. I’m really looking forward to those 5 minutes or so as I address the children knowing that the entire congregation is paying attention.

It doesn’t hurt that this week’s service at our church is focused on music and the role of music in our lives of faith. It doesn’t hurt that Psalm 100 invites all people to “Make a joyful noise.” Like little children, I’m pretty good at making noise. And the opportunity to do so in the context of a worship service that is sometimes too quiet and too serious seems like a great opportunity.

I don’t know how the adults in the congregation will react, but I know my target audience. I’m pretty sure the children will have fun with it. And if they do, I will enjoy it as well.