I have always enjoyed reading articles where people rate and rank, debate and discuss, classify and categorize who is the greatest of all time or GOAT for short. For example, is Beethoven or Bach the best composer ever? Is it Gone with the Wind or The Wizard of Oz or Star Wars at the top of the list? Is it Audrey Hupburn or Meryl Streep? Is it Frasier or Ali; Brandy or Manning; Michael Jordon or LeBron James, with my deepest apologies to my Cleveland brothers and sisters for that reference. There is something deep down within us that loves to compare and contrast, rank and rate, that wants to know who is at the front and who is no so much. So, it makes complete sense to me that at the weekly staff meeting for the disciples, the question of who is the greatest came up on the agenda. Maybe Peter was thinking he might be nominated. Afterall when Jesus he got out of the boat, he had the first idea for a capital campaign, and when Jesus had asked who do you say I am, Peter aced that pop quiz by answering, “The Messiah.” Maybe Judas wanted to throw his name into the hat being so frugal and tight fisted with the common purse. Maybe James and John wanted to be considered in the conversation, after all just on Sunday they were invited to that special meeting on the mountain and unlike Mr. Rockhead Peter kept their mouths shut in the face of the mystery of the transfiguration. Who is the greatest might still linger in our lives. We want to know our legacy and leave a lasting impression on this world, we want to know what people will say at our memorial service. By the way, I am sure people will say about me that I talked way too much. We all want that fifteen minutes of fame to be soaked and saturated in the spotlight.
I get it. What would have confused and confounded the disciples is when Jesus took and placed a child in the middle of the circle. First, ever wonder why was there some random child who just happened to be walking, wandering past at that precise moment? Talk about good timing. Second, a child? In Jesus’ world the term helicopter parenting was as inconceivable as space travel. In Jesus’ world the idea that you would work all week only to race and run your kinds to activities on your day off made as much sense as picking up your cross to follow Jesus. In Jesus’ world where the Greek language for child was not assigned a masculine or feminine root because you were not sure if the child would live. You see children in Jesus day were property. Children were more of a liability than unconditionally loved. Into that staff meeting where Jesus invites a child, and I love N.T. Writes translation this passage as, “Do you see her? This is who we aspire to be” Not at the top or successful, but on the fringe and fray. Such a teaching, preaching would have caused jaws to drop and heads to shake. I imagine some who heard this might have even been so offended because a child was seen as weak and vulnerable and dependent. To be like a child would be to strive toward humility, give up pretense of professionalism, give up independence and autonomy and self-reliance. And if all this sounds even vaguely familiar, I hear in these words the melody of the beatitudes being sung in another key. To be a child should disrupt and even disturb us a bit. It would mean to give up our status and rights. Every one of us have probably muttered and mumbled under our breath growing up when a parent demanded or commanded to finish our brussels sprouts or clean our room or share our toys, “Just wait til I get older.” Go back to being like a child? Having a teenage, I remember how I couldn’t wait to drive. The lure of freedom and the sweet bliss of a few years of my parents paying car insurance. Good time. But maybe there is something else here too. Children have wonder, imagination, constantly and continually changing and growing, questioning, exploring, and trying to expand.
And perhaps as adults it would behoove us to recapture and reclaim that we are forever and always an amateur in the most beautiful meaning of that word. That our faith is never finished. I am so sorry that for far too long the church has seemed to suggest or say that once you were confirmed you could graduate rather than saying faith is always evolving and expanding. I am so sorry that for far too long the church has promoted confidence and certainty rather than questioning and curiosity. I am so sorry that for far too long the church would rather be stubbornly stern, serious, somber than playful, joyful, and fully present which anyone under the age of ten can be. To be child-like could cause all of us to re-frame and re-fashion why we are here and what are we doing. So, by way of an invitation, I have a Lenten assignment for you. In your bulletin are forty words. Inspired by one of my favorite books, Amazing Grace by Kathleen Norris, you are invited to take these words and be creative as you feel called. For my right-brain brothers and sisters maybe you want to go out and take a photograph or paint or write poems that you think captures each word. For my left-brain maybe you want to write a definition or description of each word or discover an example from your life for each. Maybe there is a story that can teether and tie all forty words together. I would love to read that. Maybe there is a prayer you write. I would love to share than in a service this Lent. Maybe you just hold each word for one day and try to use it ten times in a sentence that day, good luck with the word, “crawl” when that comes up. I want you to embrace and fully embody that child-like part of your soul that is still stirring and swirling within you in this season of Lent. I invite you to be so playful and passionate that people who go to other churches will wonder, what in the world is being preached at that church. I invite us as people of faith today to take Jesus’ words to heart, because this is one of the few times Jesus was clear that the pathway to greatness and glory and fully experiencing God’s grace might be by remembering that we are forever children of God. May that truth simmer and stir within you for the coming forty days. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment