Children. Several years ago a couple of books were
published entitled Children's Letters to God and More Children's
Letters to God(1) which collected some rather clever (and
occasionally insightful) letters from youngsters to the Almighty.
Listen to a few of them:
- Dear GOD, In school they told us what You do. Who does it
when You are on vacation? * Jane
- Dear GOD, Is it true my father won't get in Heaven if he
uses his bowling words in the house? * Anita
- Dear GOD, Did you mean for the giraffe to look like that or
was it an accident? * Norma
- Dear GOD, Instead of letting people die and having to make
new ones, why don't You just keep the ones You have now?
* Jane
- Dear GOD, Did you really mean "do unto others as they do
unto you"? Because if you did, then I'm going to fix my
brother! * Darla
- Dear GOD, Thank you for the baby brother, but what I prayed
for was a puppy. * Joyce
- Dear GOD, My brother is a rat. You should give him a tail.
Ha ha. * Danny
- Dear GOD, Maybe Cain and Abel would not kill each other so
much if they had their own rooms. It works with my brother. * Larry
- Dear GOD, I bet it is very hard for You to love all of
everybody in the whole world. There are only 4 people in our
family and I can never do it. * Nan
Kids. Munchkins. Rug Rats. Ragamuffins. Ya gotta love
'em. Jesus obviously did. Youngsters appear regularly in the
gospel narratives. There must have been something not only
winsome but downright FUN about Jesus for kids to want to be
around him. And Jesus obviously appreciated the perspective of
children - he went so far as to make that startling statement
that unless we have the kind of faith that children have, we will
miss out on the Kingdom.(2) What is that perspective? Trust?
Some. Dependence? A bit. Humility? A little, maybe. All of
those are true to an extent (albeit, in my humble opinion as a
father, only a SMALL extent). Actually, I think the childlike
quality Jesus means most is the sense of wonder about life, the
curiosity that is evident in those letters to God, the obvious
joy in being alive, happily ready for whatever new adventure
might come along.
But for all the warm, fuzzy things we say about children,
the other side of that coin is that children are often a big
nuisance. They start out by causing incredible pain to Mom in
child birth (not to mention the equally incredible pain to the
bank account). They interrupt sleep schedules. They offer
strange-smelling discharges from various bodily orifices, and
often all over YOU. They cost thousands of dollars to feed and
clothe and repay your generosity with a thumb of the nose. They
aggravate, irritate, infuriate. Finally, as something in the
newspaper a couple of weeks ago suggests, they get married and
want a huge reception replete with ice sculptures for $22,000+.
Trouble.
Behavior? Much as we find in each of our lessons this
morning. Child...ISH! The Epistle of James: "bitter envy and
selfish ambition...disorder and every evil practice." The gospel
of Mark: Jesus asks the Twelve, "What were you arguing about
on the road?" Silence. EMBARRASSED silence. Because "they had
argued about who was the greatest." A bit like the old Smothers
Brothers routine: "Mom always liked you best!" Laughable. And,
of course, childish.
Actually, there is only one we know as "the greatest."
Muhammad Ali. (And you thought I was going to say Jesus.) Ali
is a fascinating character (despite his current battle with
Parkinson's), and has been since his brash days in Louisville
when we knew him as Cassius Clay and heard his boastful claim,
made over and again through the years, that, "I AM THE GREATEST."
A sportswriter once asked him, "When you say, 'I am the
greatest,' do you mean the greatest fighter or the greatest human
being?"
Ali replied quickly, "I mean that I am the greatest boxer.
I will go down as the greatest boxer of all time."
The writer pressed him further. "But do you think that 50
years from now people will say that you were the greatest?"
Ali responded, "Fifty years from now everybody in this room
will be dead. Nobody will remember what a great boxer I was.
The only way I will not be forgotten is if I can do something to
help and aid my people."(3) Smart man.
I wish, after almost 2,000 years of hearing the gospel story
we just read, the world (not to mention the church) was that
smart. Jesus says, "If anyone wants to be first, he must be the
very last, and the servant of all." We get an inkling of that
truth occasionally in special lives such as the late Mother
Teresa, but we notice them precisely because they are so rare.
Then after Jesus picks up a little one who happens to be handy
(and this child probably more resembles one of those filthy
ragamuffins in a "Save the Children" commercial than one of those
in our nursery), he says, "Whoever welcomes one of these little
children in my name welcomes me; and whoever welcomes me does not
welcome me but the one who sent me."
The implications of that are more than a bit unsettling.
Jesus does not say TOLERATE the child or even PROVIDE FOR the
child. The Greek word literally means ACCEPT, but the
translation WELCOME is appropriate. To WELCOME someone implies
that we gladly extend our hospitality, and, in this case, the
implication is that we are greeting an ambassador, an official
representative. Who is this we welcome? Those who have no
status (children in that day were not thought of as much more
than property), those who may well be dirty, even filthy, possibly
diseased, and most assuredly those at the bottom of the social
ladder.
I would love to be able to report that the condition of
children in this world is significantly improved since Jesus'
time. After all, one of the few things that churches do NOT
debate is that "Jesus loves the little children, all the children
of the world." Then why do we have estimates that thirty-five
thousand children under the age of five die daily around the
globe, most from preventable poverty conditions? The financial
cost to end most of these child deaths, it has been proposed, is
about $2.5 billion a year, which is the amount Americans spend on
chewing gum.(4) Could we manage that? After all, Jesus himself
says that these are the emissaries of the Almighty, "the least of
these..."
Well, we try. After all, don't we get down to the Sharing
Place to feed the hungry? Don't we support efforts like Habitat
for Humanity and Rebuilding Together to provide decent homes for
those who would never have them without our help? Don't we
blister our feet marching in the Relay for Life every year for
the sole purpose of helping find a cure for a horrible disease?
Don't we contribute our money to all sorts of worthy causes, both
in the church and out? Absolutely! And we do not do badly, if
we do say so ourselves.
But before we say anything more, consider this true story:(5)
recently a church youth group was on a wilderness back-packing
expedition and got lost. It was supposed to be a half-day trip,
so they soon ran out of water in the Texas heat. One boy
especially became dehydrated and seriously ill. Another hiked
miles to get help, then hiked back with rescue team to show them
the location. A helicopter came and took him and this now
seriously ill friend to a hospital over 100 miles away. The
other hikers were provided supplies and were eventually trucked
out. Fortunately, the rescue was in time - the young man's life
was saved.
Nice story, so far. Right? Here is where it gets dicey.
Our young hero is now in the hospital waiting room. He calls
home to bring mom and dad up to date. So far, so good. The boy
continues his vigil, but soon realizes a predicament - he has no
money, the rest of the group is still hours away, he needs food
and a place to stay. The hospital staff suggest the local
shelter for the night. He calls home again.
Dad goes ballistic. He calls the hospital, gives his credit
card number and insists that his son be taken care of. Put him
in nearby hotel till the parents can get there in the morning.
Forget this Homeless Shelter stuff. Both father and son (who
happened to be 17 years old and over 6'4") are convinced that such
a suggestion is insane. Why? The lad responds, "Hey, I don't
have anything against homeless people. I've done my service
projects for church at the shelter at home, but I don't need to
stay with them or have them sleeping near me. Yuck!"
What do you think? I do not mean to pick on someone who is
certainly a brave and courageous young man. But I will pick on
an attitude that says it is all right, even GOOD, to HELP the
"riff-raff" but that to actually stay overnight with them,
receive the same help as them, be on the same level as they are,
is dangerous and disgusting. Somewhere along the line, people
hear the message that we are called to help, but then miss the
part about Jesus identifying HIMSELF with those in need of that
help. Remember Matthew 25? "Just as you did it to one of the
least of these who are members of my family, you did it to ME!"
Someone has suggested that there are more than enough spare
bedrooms in our houses to easily solve the homeless problem.
Right! That solution would be as well received as the suggestion
that our young friend spend the night in the shelter.
A young rabbinical student asked the rabbi, "Rabbi, why
don't people see God today as they did in the olden days?" The
wise old man put his hands on the student's shoulders and said,
"The answer, my son, is because no one is willing to stoop so
low."(6)
An interesting thought: what would our answer be if Jesus
came to us and asked, "What were you arguing about on the road?"
Well, Lord, we were arguing about whether women should be equal
to men in performing church functions. We were arguing about
language for God - should we use masculine, feminine, both,
neither? We were arguing about sexuality - if folks are
homosexual, should they be included in the church? We were
arguing about whether to support the World Council of Churches
and the National Council of Churches. We were arguing about
buying a new hymnal. We were arguing about how much money to pay
to support the mission of the church around the world when we
have so many needs here at home. Or, with the disciples, we
might just admit that our arguments are over who is going to be
top dog around here, the decision-maker, the one to whom everyone
else will have to listen.
The one thing I want you to notice is Jesus' response. He
does not put that ambition down, does not say how awful it is to
want to be great...or even THE GREATEST. Instead, he says here
is the way to do it. Be a servant. Be a servant.
Then there is that reference about the first being last. We
find that several places in the gospels - this utter reversal of
the world's norms, this new way of keeping score. It is mind
boggling...until we realize that for the first to be last AND the
last to be first means that everyone has to cross the finish line
together. Possible? Sure. IF...and this is a big IF...IF we
decide that is the way we will play life's game.
Sometime back, there was a story that came out of the
Special Olympics. It seems that a contestant tripped and fell
while running a race. Instead of just charging down the track
oblivious to another competitor's distress, the other contestants
stopped, went back, picked up their fallen comrade, then all ran
together to the finish. First. Last. Who cared? Everyone made
it across. That was all that mattered.
That is gospel, my friend. What matters is that we all make
it across, even the least among us. That was Jesus' message that
day in Capernaum. That is Jesus' message today. And remember,
"Whoever welcomes one such...in my name welcomes me..."
Amen!
1. Eric Marshall & Stuart Hample, comp., (New York: Pocket Books, 1966) and (New
York: Essandess Special Editions, 1967)
2. Matthew 18:3, Mark 10:15, Luke 18:17
3. William Schwein, "Preaching on the Lessons," Clergy Journal, July 1997, p. 43
4. John and Sylvia Ronsvalle, Behind the Stained Glass Windows: Money Dynamics in the
Church, (Grand Rapids, Mich. : Baker Books, 1996), p. 218
5. Christine Iverson, via Ecunet, "Gospel Notes for Next Sunday," #524
6. Brian Stoffregen, via Ecunet, "Gospel Notes for Next Sunday," #8593, 9/14/03
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