In
today’s text, Jesus tells his disciples, I assure you that whoever doesn’t welcome God’s
kingdom like a child will never enter it.[1] I
wonder what it means . . . to
welcome God’s kingdom like a child.
The 1st week of kindergarten, Mary Margaret’s class visited
the school library, and she checked out Jenny’s
First Party[2].
It was an old early
reader’s chapter book about a young cat who goes out on the town one
evening. Mary Margaret was (and
still is) very much a cat person.
She loved that book. We read
it to her every night. Have you ever had that experience with your children or
grandchildren? Have you ever
heard, “Read it again, Mommy.”
When her class returned to the library the next week,
Mary Margaret did not
have Jenny’s First Party with her. She had left it at home. She did not want to check out another
book. She wanted us to continue to
read it to her every single night.
But after a month, the school librarian insisted that Mary return the
book. “There are other children
who want to read Jenny’s First Party,”
she said.
Repetition. Mary wanted to hear the same beloved
story, to see the same engaging pictures over and over. Recognizing this aspect
of young learners, early childhood educators use repetition. Our children here love songs with
repetition—like Siyahamba—which we sang to bring in the Communion elements. Could welcoming the kingdom of
God like a child mean repeating—repeating the biblical story of God’s loving
relationship with creation and with humans? Could welcoming the kingdom of God like a child mean
repeating the liturgical calendar—Advent, Christmas, Lent, Easter, and
Pentecost each year? Could it mean
re-telling and re-living the story of God’s creating the world & entering
into relationship with us, of God as Jesus living among us, dying and defeating
death for us, of God as the Holy Spirit empowering the church to continue
telling the story? Could repeating the beloved biblical story in our worship
and study life—repeating it until it becomes one with us and we are one with it—could
that be a way of welcoming the kingdom of God like a child?
In today’s text, Jesus tells his disciples, I assure you that whoever doesn’t welcome God’s kingdom like a child will never enter it.[3] I wonder what it means to welcome, to receive the kingdom of God as a little child. One of the yoga postures is called “laughing baby.” On our backs, we bend our knees and reach our arms out to try to grab our toes. Holding on to our toes, we rock from side to side. I feel like a little baby when I practice this posture. And I am reminded of watching babies—my own and others—discover their toes.
(from http://thumbs.dreamstime.com/thumblarge_545/1286276732S38XZc.jpg)
Babies, much more
flexible than I or even my yoga teacher, can easily grab their toes,
look at them, feel
them, pull them up to their mouths and taste them. At that stage of development, babies spend a lot of time
experiencing their toes—using all their senses.
Could
receiving the kingdom of God like a little child mean being fascinated by God’s
plan for the world—spending a lot of time checking out God’s good purposes for
the world—discovering what it would look like, sound like, taste like, smell
like, feel like? Could receiving the kingdom of God as a little child mean
using all our senses to engage with one another in helping to remove barriers
that prevent any one of us from discovering and experiencing God’s grace and
God’s good purposes for God’s good world?
I assure you that whoever doesn’t welcome
God’s kingdom like a child will never enter it.[4]
I wonder what it means to welcome, to receive the kingdom of God like a little
child. When I was 4 or 5 years
old, I loved the water. In the
evenings, when it was less crowded, my Daddy would take us to the city pool. Although
I loved to play and swim and splash in the shallow end of the pool—the very
shallow end because back then we did not have water wings, and I did not want
to be encumbered by a life jacket—back then, when I had to stay in the very
shallow end where I could touch bottom, what I really wanted to do was go to
the deep end and jump off the diving boards. So, my Daddy taught me to swim . . . and then I could go to the deep end. The
low diving board was a snap. I was even diving off of it in no
time. Every time I climbed out of
the pool and walked to the low diving board, I would eye that high diving
board. One evening, my Daddy said,
“Go ahead and climb up that ladder.
You can do it.” I climbed the ladder. Reaching the top of the ladder, I stepped out onto the high
diving board. I looked down at the
concrete far below. My Daddy
calmly said, “Okay walk out to the end.
I’m down here waiting.”
( from http://www.writerscafe.org/uploads/stories/8f9293279839a1e342177cae06772369.jpg)
I walked out to the end
of the board and looked down that long way to the water where I saw my Daddy
smiling and waving his arms, encouraging me to jump, calling, “I’m here. I’ll catch you.” So I jumped. Down, down, down I plummeted through
the air. Splash went the water,
and I went down into it. Then I
felt Daddy’s arms in the water, pulling me up to the surface. I popped up, water running down my
face. I wiped my eyes and looked
at my Daddy who was grinning from ear to ear. “You did great.
What did you think of it?”
I loved it. “Can I jump
again?” Daddy said, “Sure!”
I
wonder if receiving the kingdom of God means being wrapped in complete trust
that God is here, waiting in the water, cheering us on, ready to pull us up if
we start to go down.
About
3 years ago, the girls and I decided to give Kevin a completely different gift
for Christmas: no tie, no books, no videos, no CD’s, no clothes, no restaurant
certificate, no gift card. We
decided to get Kevin something completely different—an iPhone. It was a stretch—3 college students—they
were in college and I was in seminary—buying an iPhone and committing to the
more expensive monthly plan—for it included a data charge. In all the years I have known him, I
have never seen Kevin have so much fun with a gift. After his initial response, “you spent too much on me,” he
allowed himself to receive and to enjoy.
He played with the iPhone all Christmas day—interrupting us from other
things to show us something new he could do with it. For the girls and me, it was the epitome of giving with
trust—trust that together, pooling our resources, we could give this gift. It was the epitome of giving with commitment—paying that
monthly fee. And it was the epitome of receiving joy out of giving—seeing the
joy and wonder our trust and commitment was bringing Kevin. He was not a child, but he received and
enjoyed that gift like a child.
I
wonder if welcoming the kingdom of God like a child means accepting my place in
God’s rule as God’s gift of grace.
I wonder if it means recognizing all I have—my physical resources—health;
my financial resources—job, money, investments, security; my intellectual
resources—talents and skills; recognizing that all I have comes from God. I wonder if welcoming the kingdom of
God like a child means giving back—from my pool of physical, financial, and intellectual
resources—giving back to share God’s love, to share God’s grace, to share God’s
justice with others. I wonder if
welcoming the kingdom of God like a child means looking at life from a
different perspective—seeing the abundance instead of scarcity, opening up—including,
instead of closing down—excluding, being ready to make a commitment and
trusting God will see it through.
I
wonder if welcoming the kingdom of God like a child means seeing how God can
use me to make a difference in the lives of others. Could it mean using all our
senses to engage with one another in helping to bring about God’s justice here
and now? Could it mean sharing the story of God’s active love throughout
history with others—some of whom may know the story and hunger for repetition, some
of whom do not know the story at all? Could it mean giving generously because I
have been gifted generously? Could it mean having complete trust that God will
lead us, will provide for us, will use us for God’s good in the world?
In
our text today, Jesus says “Allow the children to come to
me. Don’t forbid them, because God’s kingdom belongs to people like these
children.”[5]
It just so happens that
our Christian Education Committee—supported by the Session—is planning to make
a difference in the lives of area children. We want to bring the Heartland Camp experience to children
in this community who would not otherwise have such an opportunity. We want to be a site
for Heartland’s Traveling Day Camp—to offer our resources—our building, our
welcoming, our love for Jesus, our energy, our passion—to share God’s love with
children living around here. With Heartland Camp staff, we want to
share Bible stories, engage in fun activities, and build relationships with
children in this community. We want to be yeast in the bread for this town.
This is one of the dreams your commitment to the mission of this church will
support in 2013.
Jesus
says, “I assure you that whoever doesn’t welcome
God’s kingdom like a child will never enter it.[6] Like a little child—repeating God’s
story of love, opening ourselves to wonder and awe, using all our senses,
generously giving because we have been gifted generously, with complete trust
in the One who created us and who continues to re-create us—like a little
child, let us receive, let us welcome, let us be agents of God’s kingdom here
on earth, here in Kansas, here in Miami county, here in Paola. Amen.
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