This morning we have some helpers with our message. They're going to demonstrate what it means to welcome and include someone. We can be so caught up in our activities that we don't even notice the outsider—child or adult. But when we look with eyes of faith, and really notice who is on the outside looking in—then we can follow Christ's command to welcome the child in his name.
Sometimes we miss the humor in the Bible. "They came to Capernaum, and when he was in the house he asked them, 'What was that all about back there?'" As if he didn't know. One of the consistent characteristics of Christ in the gospels is that he knows what's in people's hearts, and he knows what's going on around him.
"But they were silent, for they had argued with one another about who was the greatest."
This is the second case, in just a few verses, of the silence of the disciples. First, Jesus had just talked to them about the cross, but they didn't get it—and it says they were afraid to ask. It was an awkward moment—an uncomfortable silence. Some of us can remember professors in college who were so advanced in what they were saying that we didn't know what they were talking about. In fact, they were so far above us that we didn't even know what question to ask. So we kept quiet. That's one thing. But in this case, what Jesus said didn't require an advanced degree to understand. Like we say to the kids sometimes, what part of no don't you understand? They were afraid to ask. He spoke about betrayal, death, resurrection. Fairly straightforward: did they not ask because they didn't understand—or because they did understand, but didn't want to go there? Anyway, they maintained silence.
Now, they're real quiet again. "What were you talking about back there?" asked Jesus. But they were silent. "Oh, nothing". Why didn't they just tell him: "Lord, we were arguing about who's the greatest"? Why didn't they just tell him? It's a little like when you ask two or three kids, "Who left this food out of the refrigerator overnight? Who broke this flower pot? Who got permanent marker on the wall?" Silence. Or else they say, "He did it!" The disciples knew that it went against everything Jesus was trying to teach. Their debate contradicted everything about the way he lived. That's why they fell silent. They knew that kind of discussion has no place among followers of this rabbi. Give them credit: they knew the Lord well enough by this time to realize that what they were arguing about flew in the face of his teachings. He's the Servant. He had no concern for greatness in the way the world seeks greatness. And the disciples were debating who would rule supremely in the coming kingdom—because they thought it would be like the Roman Empire, only they'd be in charge. In just the next chapter James and John made this request of him: Lord, when you come into power, could you appoint us to sit at your right hand and your left? Visions of power danced in their heads. Jesus was number 1, of course—but who would be next in line? The discussion was about power.
Jesus might have said, "Look—I've tried to teach you, and you're still arguing about worldly power and domination. Disgusting."
He didn't say that. He said, "You want to be first? That's a good thing. There's nothing wrong with wanting to excel. Here's how: be last. Be the servant of all. That way you'll be the greatest in the sight of the One who really matters."
Then he demonstrated what he was talking about. He took a child from the crowd and plopped him down right there and said, "Whoever welcomes a child like this in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me."
What's that got to do with servanthood? Being last? The child was part of a group which, in that time and place, was often overlooked, and regarded as last in the order of society. The most defenseless and vulnerable one of all is now given a warm welcome. And a true welcome means to show equal value, worth, and esteem. So Jesus is saying, the way to real greatness is to serve and lift up those at the very bottom. The child that day when Jesus was teaching stood for all children, and also for all who are marginalized, overlooked, poor, weak, and vulnerable.
The ancient Jewish faith accorded recognition and special protection to children. Then as now, Judaism celebrated children. This was a breakthrough in the course of human history. But then, as now, children too often bear the brunt of adult violence. The very fact that Jesus had to call this child to their attention seems to indicate that children were easily overlooked, hardly even considered in the so-important plans of adults. Jesus put the child right at the center of his ministry.
We hope we have come a long way—and Christ's own words have been instrumental in much of the progress. But if we look beneath the surface, we know that too many children have nothing resembling a welcome in this world. In our own country, the statistics of abuse and neglect and poverty and lack of adequate health care are staggering. The headline-grabbing stories of a baby snatched from her mother in Missouri, a teen held captive in a tunnel beneath the ground, can deflect our attention from the less sensational but much more pervasive problems.
We pray for those youngsters who are lost, and rejoice in their return. World-wide there is ample evidence of humanity's inhumanity to children, a sad unwelcome due to the power plays of so-called grown-ups. The pictures that came out of the recent hostilities in Lebanon bear horrifying witness to what war does to children. A check of the Web site of World Vision reveals the following concerns that you can click on: "Sudan—world's most dangerous place for children." "Northern Uganda: hundreds of child soldiers may be released"; "Mozambique—children plead for protection from AIDS effects" "Gaza: call for increased assistance to most vulnerable" "Cambodia—land mines are indiscriminate killers lying in tall grass." And a special project of World Vision: "Say no to child sex tourism"—of which American travelers make up 25 percent of the trade worldwide. It's not some far distant problem that has nothing to do with us.
There is a direct line between the misguided quest for power and control and the call to receive or welcome the children. What does it mean to welcome the child? It means to use the power we have in order to bless and benefit.
- Basic friendliness
- Sharing faith in a warm and inviting way
- Protection
- Love
- Education—with a particular concern for equal educational expenditures between our inner cities, impoverished rural areas, and affluent suburbs.
- Feeding—shelter—health care.
Marian Wright Edelman of the Children's Defense Fund has made it her own life's work to welcome the child. She declares, "If we don't stand up for children, we don't stand for much. Service is what life is all about." On the basis of her Christian faith, she combined the call to service, and the call to care about kids.
In our own community, there is a history of faith-based efforts to minister to the needs of children and to welcome the child in the name of Jesus. For instance, in 1899 the Methodist churchwoman Nancy Mason donated her house and it was used for the founding of the Baby Fold. Since that time the Baby Fold has sought to love and care for children in need of adoption and special services, and in strengthening families. In their mission statement they declare, "The Baby Fold embodies Christian principles to serve children and families, and help them build safe, loving, and healthy environments." A statement like that can be traced back to the vision of a committed Christian woman of the 19th century, and further, to the new vision of a kind and welcoming society that Jesus himself set in motion long, long ago.
Let's think this week about Jesus' words concerning the nature of power and the call to service. We are to pursue greatness: Jesus doesn't criticize that human impulse. Indeed, too often we settle for less than great, we settle for mediocrity. Jesus asks to think about what true greatness really is. It means stooping down; it means a focus on those who are vulnerable. In our own lives, what does it mean to be a welcoming, serving person toward children, and toward all the vulnerable ones whom God loves?
Last thing: notice the promise attached to the command. We talk about receiving Christ, and it might seem an abstract spiritual thing. He says, when we welcome the child in his name, we welcome him! And when we welcome Him, we welcome the one who sent him. If we want to welcome God into our lives, our church, our world, what should we do? Welcome the child. Will you pray with me? |
