At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, "Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?"This was the Sunday that folks who had gone to the Casa Hogar San José in Colima, México (an orphanage with which this congregation has a close relationship) inaugurated our Lenten theme: A People for Others.Jesus called a child, and putting the child among them said, "Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever becomes humble like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me."
Matthew 18:1-5 (NRSV, alt.)
On Jesus' telling the disciples that they need to be like children, Jamie T. deadpanned: "As we all know, children are humble, innocent, and pure." This has always been my problem with this passage -- it seems premised on a false conception of children, the kind of thing that no one who has known a child for more than five minutes would say.
Jamie reminded us that it is also true that children "have no power -- children are weak, defenseless."
Do we think this is what Jesus is calling us to be?
Discussing salt and light, I quoted Nadia Bolz-Weber at length about how surely Jesus wasn't telling a gathered crowd of broken and marginalized people to be meeker.
However, it wasn't these people who were asking Jesus this question about who would be the greatest in the kingdom of heaven -- it was people who considered themselves part of Jesus' inner circle.
Perhaps Jesus was reminding them (for the umpteenth time) that God's ideas of greatness are not our ideas (see also: Paul's famous assertion in 1 Corinthians that "God's foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God's weakness is stronger than human strength").
Nadia asserts that, "It is exactly at our points of weakness, of pain, of brokenness, of insufficiency that force us, like those who originally followed Jesus, to stand in the need of God."
If we, all of us, in community, are called to become vulnerable like children, then we also have an obligation to treat each other carefully -- as we would vulnerable children. (After all, Jesus said, "Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me" -- echoes of the parable later in Matthew about the sheep and the goats.)
To me, this is a much more powerful statement about how to embody the kin-dom of God than banalities about how children are inherently humble, etc.
To trust each other with our vulnerabilities and to honor the vulnerabilities of others...
Our Lenten theme this year is "A People for Others."
Sarah G. confessed that she had shown up at the Casa to be a people for orphans, and that the complexities of the realities she encountered at the Casa often made it difficult for her. But she was able to let go of her expectations and adjust to the reality she found -- aided by the other Mission Trippers as well as the children and staff of the Casa -- and was able to be a person for others, even if the others weren't quite what she had expected -- and also allowed those others to be people for her.
Perhaps one way we can honor each other's vulnerabilities (and help create a space that is safer for each of us to be vulnerable in) is to let go of some of our preconceptions, to let people tell us who they are (rather than expecting that we already know based on certain identity cues) and what they need from us (perhaps asking them what we can do for them, but not presuming that we know what they need or what's best for them).
Children certainly have plenty of preconceptions, but a framing that makes Jesus' advice to "be like children" more salvageable for me than child-like "humility" is the idea of radical curiosity. Children are so very curious about everything -- from tiny babies who put everything they can get their hands on into their mouths, to older children who haven't yet learned that there are questions one isn't supposed to ask (or at least contexts in which one isn't supposed to ask those questions).
To approach each person we meet as a bright, brilliant, beloved child of God (no pun intended) -- as a face of Jesus... To be curious about their story, rather than assuming we know (and perhaps don't want to hear) it... Back in October, Molly inaugurated a Year of Radical Curiosity, and I think it's difficult for us to really, helpfully, be a People for Others without some real curiosity about those others.
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What about you, Beloved? What does this passage bring up for you?
Are there children you have known who have modeled for you ways to let go of some of what separates you from God (or from other people -- which is often much the same thing)?
Or perhaps none of what I've offered in this blogpost quite resonates for you and you still struggle with this strange teaching from Jesus (honestly, I'm not entirely sold on it myself).
You're invited to continue the conversation in the comments -- responding to any of the questions I've asked or raising questions of your own, or simply sharing some thoughts.
As always, you're welcome to comment anonymously/pseudonymously if you prefer.
