Open to children
Sermon preached
at Christchurch, 5th March 2000
Matthew 18, 1-6,
19, 13-14. Proverbs 8: 29-31.
A little boy and his dad
were in church, and the boy asked, "Dad, what does it mean when everyone
stands?" The dad said, "We are
listening to the Gospel." The boy
asked, "What does it mean when those men pass those baskets?" The Dad said, "the people are giving
gifts to God." Then the boy asked,
"What does it mean when the people go up and down the aisle?" The dad answered, "They are guests at
the Lord's table." Then the boy
asked, "What does it mean when the priest lays his watch on the
pulpit?" Since the priest was
fairly long winded, the dad answered, "It means absolutely nothing, son,
absolutely nothing!"
Nancy Mitford said this
about children: "I love
children. Especially when they cry -
for then someone takes them away."
And a badge in the 1980s had this slogan on it: "Insanity is hereditary. You get it from your kids."
Let's be honest. When we think of the idea of being open to
children as Christians, there is probably something in us that lets out a
little groan. Somehow, children bring
out the best in us, but they also bring out the worst, and perhaps this is most
true when we think of them in church.
Their inability to sit still, their need to make a noise, their longing
for attention, their endless questions like that boy in the story, their lack
of a sense of occasion in church all add up to make us think that they act as a
major distraction to us getting in the presence of God.
But the presence of children
in our church community ask us to question ourselves and to wonder where it is
that we expect to find God? Is God just
someone who can be met in silence, or in carefully performed rituals, or in undisturbed
peace? He can certainly be met in all
these things, but the question is whether he can only be met when our
hearts and minds are quiet before him.
I remember a few weeks ago
in this church we had a communion service where children were allowed to bring
up the gifts and leave them on the table.
It was done very carefully and quietly, but at the end of the service
someone came up to me and asked, "Where's the mystery?" For this person, the fact that children had
been involved in the service took away from the sense of all that is so
important.
When we come to Jesus, we
see his disciples showing the same kind of feelings about children. They try and turn them away from him. But Jesus in contrast wants to welcome children
and lay his hands on them. He is not
distracted in his relationship with God by the presence of children.
His words and actions ask us
to bear two things in mind. The first
is our responsibility to children as adult Christians. I don't need to tell you that children are the
future of our church. But more
importantly we are also promised that in welcoming them we are welcoming
Jesus. And Jesus uses strong words for
those who caused little children to stumble.
It would be better for that person to have a millstone tied around their
head and to be thrown into the sea. I
can scarcely think of a scarier warning from Jesus.
The second thing he asks us
to bear in mind is that if we think about children they can show us more about
how God sees us than anything else.
Adults are worried about their status, how other people perceive us, our
position. Children don't have a need to be judged for what they do or what they
appear to be to others. They show us
that in front of God it is simply trust and openness that count. They help us to lose our own need for
status.
We adults like time to be
productive as well. We feel we need to
achieve things in order to justify our life.
Perhaps we are like this when we are praying before God. You know, we don't feel we have really
prayed unless we have covered everyone and everything on our list. But what children show us is that sometimes
it's okay to be with God without any particular agenda. My children can sit and build towers with
bricks and then knock them down for what seems to me like changes. But just because they don't finish any
towers doesn't mean the activity is useless.
For them that kind of play is a cause of wonder. In our reading from Proverbs we hear the
voice of wisdom speaking. Wisdom is given a voice and is portrayed as someone
who was around when God created everything.
and how is wisdom before God? He
says that he is like a little child before God.
So what is it to be a child
in front of God, because after all the Bible calls us children of God. What can we learn from wisdom? Maybe it is in what Westminster Catechism
says is the "chief end and duty of man": to love God and enjoy him
for ever. We often say that we are trying
to love God, but how much are we aware that we are meant to enjoy him as well?
Wisdom enjoyed God, and did
it in three ways. Firstly he was Daily before him. secondly he rejoiced in
God's created world, and thirdly he delighted in the human race.
So do you feel as if you are
losing your sense of wonder with God's life sometimes, or even losing a sense
of wonder in life? Well here is
wisdom's childlike recipe for this week.
The first ingredient: Being
daily before God. Whether it is in
silence, church rituals, or in the midst of a chaotic crown of children we are
always in God's presence. We need the
trust of children to believe that his presence does not depend on our
behaviour. The next ingredient:
rejoicing in God's created world. How
often does creation pass us by? This
week take time to look at a flower for ten minutes, or go for a walk, or read
books about other countries.
I have a friend who was
miserable one day and so decided to go up the hill for two hours and tell God
how great his creation is. At the end of
that two hours he felt like a transformed person.
And the third part of the
recipe: delighting in the human race.
Who can we delight in this week?
Who can we thank God for in our prayers? Is there any one we can cheer up with a party or a meal or a call
on the phone?
Children are a gift. They remind us of God's future, and call us
to openness, rejoicing, and most of all, wonder. God teach us to find him in their presence, to value them as
real, and in their lives to discover some of our own value. Let us pray.