BUCKING THE SYSTEM: BACON HELPS PUT 'BUTTS IN THE SEATS'

Last Sunday I arrived for church early, and to my surprise, I smelled something.

I'm not talking about that faint smell that comes from a newly activated furnace, nor was it the collective mix of women's perfumes and men's colognes that usually clash in church sanctuaries. No, what I smelled had more substance.

It was bacon.

Apparently, our pastor had the idea that more people would show up for Sunday school or, at the very least, pay attention to the lesson, if the morning began with a communal breakfast. And if he could get more people to show up for Sunday school, most of them would probably stay for the regular service.

It was your standard butts-in-the-seats ploy, and it was a successful one.

Of course, my arrival was purely accidental, as I didn't know about the breakfast and haven't been a regular Sunday school participant since my pre-teen years. But I did notice several new faces among our small contingent of faithful Sunday school-goers, including six little boys who appeared happy to be there and claimed they would be back next week.

I think those six young men, who ranged in age from 6 to 13, really made our small congregation's day. People appeared to brighten as they walked into the church and saw them, and everyone congratulated the Sunday school superintendent -- who had driven by their houses earlier that morning and picked them up -- on her initiative.

In fact, the atmosphere reminded me of my childhood days, when our small chapel had an extremely populous Sunday school. Kids from all over the neighborhood would be there and divide into our assigned classes to do everything from coloring projects to verse recitations.

We had harsh, but lovable taskmasters who were determined to teach us about free will, sin and of course, salvation. Odd, but now that I think about it, free will wasn't discussed very much at my church. I definitely had no choice about whether I would show up for Sunday school, regular service, or any of a multitude of programs, practices and other events we sponsored.

But the important thing was that Sunday school and church were fun back then, maybe because there were so many children involved. Kids have a way of brightening churches and making them feel less isolated and more alive. In my church, kids have always been welcome, even the ones who like to cry really loud or wander into the pulpit during the peak of the pastor's sermons.

Our congregation has aged, and the children I grew up with have reached adulthood and moved away. Now, we look forward to visits from the CME's -- church-goers who only attend at Christmas, Mother's Day and Easter -- and their families.

But times could be changing for the better. Perhaps we'll see more new faces coming in to sample the Sunday morning breakfasts our pastor is creating, and maybe we'll increase our Sunday school membership. Shucks, for a good piece of bacon, I might even show up.

Who knows, I might even become a taskmaster like Momma Sue, Mrs. Pullins and all the other little ladies who ran our classes with iron fists that felt like silk when they smiled.

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