You don’t have to be around churches very long – particularly if there are any children around – before somebody insists it is a bit boring. Kids have a habit of saying whatever happens to be in their heads and so it has the benefit of at least being unfiltered and what they actually think. Adults tend to be a bit better at pretending they don’t think these things, but we can’t escape the fact that just because they don’t say it out loud doesn’t mean they don’t still think it anyway.

It’s usually at this point somebody – no doubt meaning well – pipes up: church isn’t boring! If they’re the chiding type, it is followed up with some suggestion that the problem must lie with the individual suggesting such a thing. If they’re not, they just want to over-enthusiastically claim that church is inherently interesting. It’s a bit like when your mum insists ‘tidying up can be fun!’ I mean, nice try and all that; I understand what you’re doing, but just saying it doesn’t make it so.

I accept reality: sometimes my sermons are a bit boring. Inevitably, some of yours will be too. We’ve all sat under some at some point. I also acknowledge that the regular, routine, week in/week out stuff we do in church can sometimes feel a bit pedestrian and, well, a bit boring sometimes. It isn’t always super-exciting.

In fact, pretending otherwise is counter-productive. If we insist things that are not exciting or especially interesting actually are, we can’t really expect anybody to trust our judgement. It can unhelpfully make people think there is some fault in them, when they are just recognising what many of us can see clearly enough ourselves. It makes it less likely people will come to us for counsel or listen to us when they do because we cannot acknowledge what is patently obvious: sometimes things just aren’t brilliant and it doesn’t hurt to admit it when it is so. Teaching our kids good discernment means not telling them off when they acknowledge (rightly) what half the room are thinking anyway. If they find it boring, let them say so. If it is boring in reality, agree with them. Sometimes things aren’t everything we might hope they would be. It’s okay to admit that.

Once we acknowledge these things we can move on to the nub of the issue. The conversation that begins, ‘it’s boring’ might well move to ‘you’re right, it was a bit boring’. That gives room for us to ask the more pertinent question: so what? It is right to ask it of our kids and it is right to ask it of any adults as well. You got a bit bored. So what? To put it another way: are you primarily here to be entertained?

There is quite a lot of aspects of life that are not especially entertaining. They are routine, ordinary and often quite boring. For kids, that describes a lot of school life. For adults, substitute school for work. House work, walking to and from places, grocery shopping, reading a book you didn’t request but were given, commuting and a whole bunch of other aspects of life are just not that interesting. But we all recognise that, for the most part, they need doing. They may not be entertaining, but we’re not doing them to be entertained. We’re doing them because we need to learn, grow, earn money, not live in squalor, get around and all manner of ordinary, routine, often quite boring things.

Few of us, as we’re making our tea, throw all the ingredients up in the air in disgust and exclaim, ‘it’s boring!’ We don’t do that because being interesting or entertaining would be a bonus. It’s not the fundamental point behind doing it. If we don’t make tea we don’t eat. Given eating is quite important, we do the work of making the food. The same true when our kids claim school is boring. Okay, maybe so, but so what? You aren’t going to be entertained, you’re going to learn and gain qualifications that will serve you later in life. It’s true with our work. Okay, work might be boring. But we’re not working to be entertained, we’re working to earn money to support ourselves and our family (among other potential things). The entertainment value of these things isn’t the point. If they’re interesting and entertaining that’s great, it’s a bonus, it’s just not why we do them and so being a bit boring isn’t a reason to jack any of these things in.

That same logic applies to the church. Can it be boring? I think we’re liars if we don’t admit, at least some of the time, it is. Some of our churches may tend more regularly in that direction than others. The question is not whether it is boring, but why are we going? If you’re only going to be entertained, then yes, it being boring is a significant problem. If you’re going to worship God, learn from the Word, grow, encourage others and serve, what difference does it being a bit boring actually make? Maybe it makes one or two of those things slightly harder and less helpful than they might otherwise be – which is why those of us who might be boring want to do our best not to be – but it doesn’t render any of those null and void of itself.

A sermon that is a bit more boring than one you heard last week doesn’t mean you can’t worship, learn grow, encourage others or serve. It may even encourage some of these things in a way you didn’t realise. There is growth to be had in listening to otherwise dull sermons, for example. And this doesn’t just apply to sermons, but to anything we might do in church. What if the person leading is less interesting this week? That doesn’t stop you doing any of the things you are there to do and may help you in ways you didn’t realise. What if you find the order of service or the way communion is done just a bit samey? Whenever things seem pedestrian and dull, it pays to ask: why am I actually here? The only reason to become downhearted or consider coming to church a waste of time when it’s boring is if you were only there to be entertained. If, as most of us recognise, that is not what church is primarily there for, and not why you’re coming, if and when it is a bit more boring, the only real response is: so what? That’s not why we’re here.