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Such as These Any day we set out to celebrate children in our lives, in the life of the church is a good day. This is a good day. It is a Joyful day. And as we celebrate children’s special place in our congregation, and it’s ministry through the Joy child development center, it is appropriate to celebrate children in the life of Jesus. Even those new to the faith have somewhere, somehow heard that Jesus had a special place for children. “Jesus loves me this I know for the Bible tell me so.” “Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world—red brown yellow black and white, all are precious in His sight, Jesus loves the little children of the world.” Our lesson this morning is one of three places where the gospels tell us the same story. The disciples see people bringing infants and small children to Jesus to have him touch them. They try to send them away. Jesus gets ruffled. “Don’t you dare stop them,” he says. “the kingdom belongs to such as these.” See him gesturing around to the little babies and small children people have in their arms. “Such as these.” The kingdom, all that I am and all that I have come to bring, the very thing you are all trying so hard to grasp, to understand. The KINGDOM belongs to such as these. And I’ll tell you and I’ll tell you right now, and it’s the truth. Unless you learn how to receive this kingdom like a little child will never fully be a part of it.” Okay—so this is more than just a story of how much Jesus loved children. How he enjoyed holding them on his knee and patting them on the head. The tone of the story changes abruptly. “The Kingdom belongs to such as these.” “You must become such as these if you want to be part of the kingdom.” This kingdom he’s been teaching them about, that grows like a mustard seed that a widow will beg for; that a tax collector will throw himself down before the altar for, that he will give his life for…THIS KINGDOM…belongs to such as these. What do you suppose he meant by that? Jesus implies that the very nature and character of a child brings the kingdom close, and by comparison, the disciples, unless they possess this nature and character of a child, will not enter into the kingdom, and perhaps even, push it further away. That leaves us to discern what it is that is part of the nature and character of a child that brings the kingdom close? And in contrast, what it is that pushes it away? Seems to me, a it is in a child’s nature to be innocently honest, and in that honesty, embarrass adults who have something to hide. I’m sure you’ve heard of the time the family from church invited the preacher and his family over for dinner. At the table, after everyone sat around it, the woman turned to her daughter and asked her if she would say the blessing. The little girls protested. “I wouldn’t know what to say!” “Just say what you hear Mommy say,” the woman answered. With that, the little girl bowed her head and folder her hands and said, “O Lord, why on earth did I invite all these people over for dinner?” Seriously, children do not hide behind masks of civility. A child has not yet learned the art of two-facedness—one of the most refreshing things about childhood. If you want to know the truth about something, ask a child. It is also in a small child’s nature to believe and trust. They must. It helps them learn the million things they must learn as infants and toddlers. Little children soak up new information like a sponge because they believe and trust. When my own daughters were toddlers, they would ask questions. How does the newspaper get to our door every morning? How do the lights work? All sorts of questions. What are rocks made of? I would do my best to answer. Some of the things I knew, of course. Other things, well…I simply bluffed my way through. As they grew older, they followed up with another question, “how do you know that, daddy?” My answer? “I know everything!” And you now what? For a year or two, they believed me! Now my abuse aside, the only way a child has of learning all the wonderful things they must learn is to trust and believe. To accept and receive. And when they do learn, they are natural teachers. Something like a “disciple.” Whenever Sydney learned something new, she could be counted on to teach it and reinforce it to her sister. And whenever Taylor learned it, she would lecture her dolls, since she had no baby sister to impart her newfound wisdom. And best thing? The time I overheard Taylor ask Sydney how she knew what she had just told her. Sydney’s answer? “I know everything!” Children are innocently honest, have this amazing ability to open up, trust, believe and receive, and finally, children are by nature, inclusive. They want everything, and by association everyone to be a part of their world. They do not yet have the adult ability to discern who belongs and who does not. Adults must teach that to them. They are not naturally inclined to sort, divide and select. Sesame Street helped us teach our children to do this: “One of these things is not like the other. One of these things doesn’t belong. One of these things is not like the other. Which one of these doesn’t belong?” This process, meant to help children learn association and patterns, also teaches them to value what is “alike.” To desire things that are the same. To want to associate with those whose appearance, values, and possessions are much like their own. And when our children learn this, they are taught to distrust difference. To be different is not to belong. To be separated. To be cast out. Set apart. Jesus spent a great deal of his ministry with those who were cast out. Set apart. His ministry was an ongoing social commentary on the religious institution of his day, the Synagogue and their insistence on unbending conformity. Especially when that conformity meant that some were left out. Marginalized. Disassociated. After all, “I have come,” he said, “to bring good news to the poor. To proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of Jubilee—the year of God’s favor.” And he lived out that mission statement by healing lepers, eating with tax collectors, showing love and concern for Samaritans, healing on the Sabbath, and forgiving the sins of those who came to him. All the while, rebuking and warning the religious folks about hypocrisy, hard hearts, stiffened necks, and unrelenting ways. Children get it, Jesus tells his disciples. More than the rest. I think he might have been referring to children’s natural inclusive nature, before they are taught to group, divide, label and discard. That’s the kingdom. Jesus says.
When I think of children, I think of crayons.
Can’t help it. Some of my most joy-filled days were
spent coloring And I was determined to use them all. In every picture I colored. Even if it meant coloring each tree a different hue, each of bugs’ bunny’s two eyes and two teeth a different color! My world was full of color. Full of choices. Full of variety. Full of diversity. And I loved it. This is the image that allows me to grow my understanding of difference and variety as a helpful thing—as something to be valued and cherished—not something. Not then. Not now. What would your world be like if every color in the box were blue? What would your picture look like then? I never wanted the songs that brought joy to my heart to be all the same note. What would it sound like if we had only one note to sing a hymn of faith? “This is my story, this is my song. Praising my savior all the day long” What would your song sound like then? I never wanted the amazing smell of my mother’s bread baking in the oven to be the very same smell of a delicate iris she had grown in the flower bed by our porch. I never wanted the earthy smell of my farmer-father to be the same as the fragrant lotion we rubbed on our daughter’s skin when they were babies. My most meaningful memories are held and recovered through a variety of smells. Where would these memories be without a variety of the fragrances stored those happy times not only in my brain but in my heart? I never wanted the bark of a tree and the soft fur of my favorite pet to be the same. The coolness of a marble slab that marks the grave of someone I love. The warmth of the sun shining through the south window of my home. From touch come hundreds of signals that inform us about our surroundings. And dare I even suggest the joy we take in our ability to taste a variety of flavors? The tongue, the amazing gift God has given us to discern sweet from salt, bitter from sour. And the pleasure, pure pleasure we receive from each. Oh Lord, of all things, we enjoy the variety of taste perhaps the most. You see? We were created as diverse beings. With diverse senses. To discover and appreciate diversity in all things. We’ve known the joy of variety and diversity since we were children. Little children. Babies really. “Such as these,” Jesus said. The kingdom belongs to “such as these.” “And whoever does not become like a little child, shall never enter into the kingdom of God.” Our nation’s and this community’s concerns with immigration are more than just a disagreement over appropriate legislation, and our economy, and whether or not our co-workers, neighbors and school mates arrived here legally or not. At its most basic and fundamental level, it is a concern over difference—and whether we have a tolerance for difference. Rather than seeing diversity of culture as something that adds to and enriches our lives, there are some who see diversity of culture as something that erodes our own identity and our own way of life. Rather than understanding diversity of culture as something that brings color, texture, fragrance, music and taste, there are those who understand diversity only as something to be avoided because it is different. To be contained because it is different. To be despised because it is different. Locked out because it is different. Deported because it is different. And when diversity has no value, where diversity is not tolerated, when it is locked out, avoided, despised and deported, then we are left with a world that is beige, smooth, odorless, muffled, and bland. And that’s not the kingdom. Not the kingdom of God. Not the kingdom the children intuitively understand and receive. Not the kingdom Jesus envisions. Not the kingdom for those who can find room in their hearts to become “such as these.” Such as these.
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color books. I was a messy artist, but it didn’t stop me from expressing
myself. I am just the right age to remember Crayola popularizing its 64 count
box of crayons. The big one with the sharpener, remember? And I wanted a box
of those crayons. I couldn’t believe one could be blessed with so many
colors. So many choices. So many shades. My world could be more than just
red, blue, yellow, brown and green. It could be raw umber. Goldenrod.
Mulberry. Plum.
