ROOTED AND GROUNDED IN LOVE
Mark 9:33-37
Mark 10:13-16
Ephesians 3:14-21
Rev. Gary Paterson
September 13, 2009
My partner Tim is a newspaper junkie. We subscribe to The Vancouver Sun, The Province and The Globe and Mail; we also regularly pick up The Georgia Strait, The West Ender, Xtra West, The Courier, and occasionally 24 Hours. We do a lot of recycling. One of the joys of going away on holiday is to escape from the tyranny of headlines; Tim doesn't speak or read German… hence Berlin looked like a great choice. However, after a week of withdrawal, Tim discovered, en route to the subway that everyday took us downtown, a little kiosk where they sold a daily edition of The International Herald Tribune. He was in 7th heaven. I got to the point of saying to myself, if you can't beat 'em, then join 'em. One evening Tim saw me cutting articles out of a couple of the papers. "What are you doing?" "Oh," said I, "these are going to fit in well with some of the sermons I'll be giving in the fall." Well, Tim was aghast - "This is our holiday; we come all this way to Berlin so you WON'T think about sermons! We're not going to buy anymore papers!" A resolution which lasted for a couple of days, until we settled on an every other day compromise. And I only clipped occasionally.
However, one of the articles that I managed to save was a review of what sounded like a fascinating book - The Philosophical Baby: What Children's Minds Tell Us About Truth, Love and the Meaning of Life. If I'd been a truly dedicated preacher, I would have run out and bought and read said book in preparation for today's sermon. But I didn't. However, this Saturday, when I opened up The Globe and Mail, I came across yet another review of the same book - it almost felt like a sign from God. I know the author is Alison Gopnik, but I began to wonder if just maybe she was simply channeling dictation from Jesus… I mean, with a sub-title like that… What Children's Minds Tell Us About Truth, Love and the Meaning of Life… doesn't that sound like Jesus to you? I kept waiting for the reviewer to make the connection… which she never did. I admit that I am a little biased.
But what is clear is that Jesus liked kids. I knew that more clearly, perhaps, when I was a kid myself. It wasn't just the music, though that helped; you know… "God Sees the Little Sparrow Fall", with its endless chorus, "He loves me too, he loves me too, I know he loves me too; if God so loves the little birds, I know he loves me too" Or the great classic with a similar chorus, --"Yes, Jesus loves me; yes, Jesus loves me; yes, Jesus loves me, the Bible tells me so." Not great poetry perhaps, but it gets the message across. It was the stories, though, that stuck with me… those moments when the disciples got annoyed at crying kids and would snarl, "SHHHHH. Don't interrupt! Can't you see that Jesus is doing important stuff, with important people - like preaching a sermon. Don't disturb him!" And Jesus would look over, with a smile, and he would stop whatever it was he was doing, and suddenly the sermon would become a "Time with the Children" moment, right then and there. And then, he would throw out a theological zinger or two to the surrounding adults, just in case they hadn't quite caught on to what he was about. Like, "Whoever does not receive the Kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it!" or "Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me, welcomes not me but the one who sent me."
Now that's some powerhouse of an equation - to welcome a child is to welcome Jesus, which is to welcome God. Think about that the next time you say hello to a little person. Yeah, Jesus liked kids; he paid attention to them; he welcomed them; he thought they were important.
Which, frankly, is very surprising! Because we're talking about the 1st Century, when kids weren't all that important. They had no legal rights; no status; nothing. That may be hard to imagine in our times perhaps, when we idealize children, and make a fuss over them, though I'm never quite sure if that's simply a ruse to sell more stuff - check out the coming workshop on "Consuming Kids." Nevertheless, in the first Century kids were non-persons; imagine a world where it's not just "kids are to be seen but not heard," but rather, you don't even see them. Perhaps this a reflection of the terrifying rates of infant/child mortality in those days, starting with the perils of childbirth, the reality of infanticide, exposing unwanted children on the hillside; moving into the reality of disease, famine, warfare… some scholars suggest that up to 60 % of children did not make it to the age of 16. That's just the way it was. And so kids didn't really become important until they hit adulthood… which came early, of course, usually when you arrived at puberty. Then you could be part of the family business or farm; you could be a day labourer and contribute to the family's survival; you could get married, and have more children; you could take care of your parents… old age security in the flesh. It was a question of economics, not sentiment and idealism.
But there's Jesus, making a fuss over children. Offering a welcome; giving a lesson in power theology. The least and the last shall be first; the unimportant ones - they are welcomed by God. It's not that the important, wealthy big people aren't also welcome; but that's what's expected; it's certainly what they expected. And that's OK. But Jesus wanted to make it clear that EVERYBODY was welcome, even or perhaps especially the ones that people didn't think were all that welcome. In the new community that is sparked by Jesus, well the most unexpected folk show up. Last week it was Syrophoenician women, and other similar foreigners; this week it's kids. Why, maybe next week Jesus will be telling us to open our arms wide to welcome tax collectors and prostitutes, or the poor and the homeless and mentally ill. Once you start this welcoming business, no telling where it's going to end.
I don't pretend to fully understand it, let alone live it, but I think I catch his drift. Jesus is not just setting up an expanded list of rules and requirements … you'd better be an inclusive church or else! I think, rather, he's trying to tell us that if we are hungry for an encounter with God, one of the best ways of connecting with God is to wrap our arms around a child, a nobody, perhaps even the people who unexpectedly end up sitting in your pew, those strangers just down the row there. Clearly God is experienced within, in a one-on-one prayer relationship; and just as certainly God is to discovered within the creation, and the natural wonders all around us. But Jesus seems to be suggesting that we will also encounter God in the "in-between", in the encounter with another human being, a real encounter… where you truly see and meet and welcome each other, with all of your differences. In the encounter, the welcome, the holding… you'll meet God.
Now, I've spent enough time around kids to know better than to romanticize them. I've watched my beloved granddaughter taking on all comers, as she stands guard over her pile of dolls and toys, fiercely and loudly declaring, "Mine! Mine!" while her mother murmurs in the background, "You have to share with your brother, with your friends. And don't hit please." And I've watched her two year old brother deliberately waiting until his sister's bedroom door is open and unattended, and then he will whisk in and grab her absolutely favourite toy of the week, and parade around the house in triumph. He knows he's cruising for a bruising, but it's just too much fun!! And I've been hearing reports from my other daughter's household - it appears that eight week old Benjamin has a fine set of lungs and has decided that the household should be attending to his every need from 1 a.m. to 5 a.m…. daily. No, children are not perfect beings whom we should imitate.
However, there are a couple of things about children that I have noted that may illuminate why Jesus said that unless we become like children we won't experience the Kingdom of God. That book I was mentioning way back at the beginning… The Philosophical Baby, well, the author talked about the power of novelty. Children experience the world as new every day. They get up, eyes wide open and stagger into endless moments of amazement and learning; oh, so much to learn. They are full of wonder. They live attentively, finding delight and pleasure in the most ordinary things… miracles abound. They get lost in the moment, totally absorbed and oh so very present; the tick tock of time disappears. Now me, I spend hours struggling with breathing and meditation exercises, hoping to slip into a moment of Buddhist mindfulness, paying attention to the moment… with kids, it just seems to come naturally.
Case in point… last June I was out visiting my Calgary family, and I brought along some gifts… one turned out to be a real winner. The bug catcher; you know those gizmos full of mirrors and magnifying glasses… out you go, catch yourself some bugs, pop them in the container, and then stare in amazement at legs, antennae, wiggly parts, mouth parts… ants, sowbugs, caterpillars, spiders, flies, centipedes, beetles; and a few baby slugs and worms, just cause they feel icky. Sometimes only part of an insect makes it into the container… dissected in the name of childhood science. Remember, I didn't say that children were always "nice"… no, their gift is wonder and attentiveness and delight. And when I'm kneeling down in the backyard with Abigail, watching bugs in a way I probably haven't done for over fifty years, well I feel as if the gates to the Kingdom have opened up, just a crack, but enough for the light to shine brightly.
The other thing I believe children help us understand is our human vulnerability. Benjamin… eight weeks old. And absolutely dependent on his mother and father, on the adults that surround him with love. We spend a lot of time and energy as grown ups pretending that we're in charge, that we are controlling all that is happening around us. We don't want to feel vulnerable; we'd far rather be strong, capable, on top of things. It's not until old age that we realize once again that we've been playing games, and we are forced to relearn the lessons that were close to our hearts when we were very little.
Vulnerable, fragile… and we need each other. But maybe that's okay. The other day I was over visiting Ben; he had been fed, changed and admired; I held him as he slowly quieted. He fell asleep on my chest, his little bum cupped in one hand; his little head nestled into my neck. It's simply wonderful to sense the intertwining of a baby's breathing with the rhythmic beating of your heart. Vulnerable, but loved. Maybe that's a key to the Kingdom.
The psychologist Erik Erikson outlined the various stages that human beings must work through as they move from infancy to old age. The first stage is the need to develop a sense of trust in the world… as opposed to mistrust. Trust that the world is good; that people will comfort you; that your needs will be met; that you will be loved. It's a child's way of answering that classic Einstein question, the one that he said was the most important theological question going…. "Is the universe friendly, or not?" Yes, we are vulnerable and dependent… let's not pretend. Instead, let us trust the world; let us have faith that we are, each and every one of us, well-loved by God.
Last week the staff of this congregation gathered for a day to connect and plan and pray. We began by pondering some words of Scripture… the reading from Ephesians that we heard today. The first time through we were invited to think about the words as they connected to us personally; the second time though, we were asked to think about how they related to a congregation, because it was to the church at Ephesus that Paul was writing. Well, for one person the words "rooted and grounded in love" sprang out… for both readings. To be rooted and grounded in love is to live with trust, to know that the universe is indeed friendly, that our vulnerability is not a problem, but an opportunity to acknowledge a holy love. The exciting question that arose was, what would it look like for a congregation to be rooted and grounded in love? Let's be more specific -- for this congregation, for St. Andrew's-Wesley, for this community of faith… what would it mean for us, together, to be rooted and grounded in love? How would we live differently? How would we relate to each other? What would our welcome look like? Instead of being worried, fearful about our future, could we accept our vulnerability, knowing that we are sustained by the Spirit? Might we be free to experience more wonder and joy? Would we experience a taste of the Kingdom?
I don't know, but it feels exciting; and maybe this is the adventure that we are embarking on together; maybe this is what Jesus means when he welcomes children, when he invites us to become like a child. I do know that being rooted and grounded in love will change us. I am reminded of some words by the Canadian author Rudy Wiebe; you've heard them before, but they bear repeating. He writes:
Jesus says that in his society there is a new way to live.You show wisdom by trusting people;You handle leadership by serving;You hand offenders by forgiving;You hand money by sharing;You hand enemies by loving;You handle violence by suffering.
In fact, you have a new attitude toward everything, toward everybody. Toward nature, toward the state in which you happen to live, toward women, [toward children], toward slaves, toward all and every single thing. Because this is a Jesus society, and you repent [you change your life] not by feeling bad, but by acting differently.
Welcome folks, welcome to this Open House Sunday… each and every one of us, rooted and grounded in love.