One of the best weeks of the year is Vacation Bible School (VBS). What’s not to love? There are songs that get stuck in your head for weeks, energetic games that somehow involve pool noodles, and enough glitter to remain in the church carpet until Jesus returns.

Since his retirement, one of our snack leaders has brought his granddaughter to VBS. Let’s call him Pete. Pete’s official job is handing out snacks, but his real superpower is making friends. Every year, he gets paired with student volunteers, and within about ten minutes, he knows their names, what sports they play, what music they like, and probably what they had for breakfast.

Pete doesn’t see teenagers as mysterious creatures from another planet. He talks with them. He asks questions. He listens. The conversations just keep going. There may be fifty years between Pete and the student volunteers, but you would never know it. They laugh together, tell stories, and occasionally debate important theological matters like whether blue raspberry is an actual fruit.

Watching Pete reminds me that VBS can be so much more than children’s programming. For years, churches have treated VBS as a week to keep kids busy while teaching them about God. That’s good. But what if VBS was also a place where generations connected with one another?

Faith grows best in relationships. Children need adults who know their names and care about their lives. Adults need the joy, curiosity, and endless supply of questions that children and youth bring. (“Can God make a taco so big God can’t eat it?” remains unanswered, or “Is there a church song done by K-Pop?” asked the four year old.)

The truth is that many of the most important things children learn during VBS aren’t written in the curriculum. They learn what kindness looks like when an older volunteer remembers their name. They learn what faith looks like when a teenager helps them find a Bible verse. They learn what belonging feels like when adults take time to listen to their stories about soccer, dance class, or the family hamster. Those moments often stick longer than the craft project that comes home covered in glue.

Imagine a VBS where the church family serves, creates art, sings, and explores God’s story together. Grandparents help with crafts. Teenagers lead games. Kids and adults learning side-by-side. When that happens, VBS becomes more than a program. It becomes the church being the church – a place where six-year-olds, sixteen-year-olds, and sixty-six-year-olds discover that they belong to one another and to God. And sometimes it all starts over a bag of Goldfish crackers with a guy named Pete.

Maybe the future of VBS isn’t bigger inflatables, louder music, or more elaborate decorations. Maybe it’s simply creating more opportunities for people like Pete to sit beside a teenager, ask a few questions, share a few stories, and discover that God’s family is wonderfully diverse, beautifully connected, and occasionally covered in glitter.

What are your thoughts?