RSS Amplifier

The Rev. Astrid Joy Storm · Nov 13, 2025

Suffer (yes, Suffer) the Little Children

0
Sign in to vote or save
Keep playing while I browse

Well, it isn’t always--even often--the case that the readings we’re given so nicely fit the occasion.

Well, it isn’t always--even often--the case that the readings we’re given so nicely fit the occasion. Today we have a baptism (at the 10:30 service) and the blessing of the backpacks, so very much a day when we celebrate the little ones among us, as Jesus does in today’s Scripture passage.

This is one of the more famous scenes from Jesus’ life. And actually there are two such moments: in one, Jesus and the disciples are in a crowd and parents keep bringing their children to him for a blessing. The disciples get increasingly annoyed, and start to criticize the parents for letting their children just run up and interrupt like that--upon which Jesus criticizes the disciples. And then he says to them (my paraphrase), if you (and all of us grumpy, jaded grown-ups) don’t become as these children are, a little less grumpy and less jaded, you’ll never enter the kingdom of heaven.

In this story, today, Jesus and the disciples seem to be in a private home, and rather than there being many children crowding around, there’s just this one whom Jesus picks up to illustrate to his status-clamoring disciples what true greatness looks like.

I kind of wonder whose child that was, that somehow escaped its parents and wandered into the presence of Jesus and the disciples. My own son (when young) was prone to bolt, so I can relate. Although one translation says that Jesus picked the child up and “cradled” it in his arms. I’ve never thought of Jesus with toddlers or infants--children yes, but that added a tenderness to this moment I’d never considered.

In any case, there are two lessons we learn from Jesus’ encounters with children: one, to be like them, in their innocence, their curiosity, their keen sense of the present moment. It makes sense to me that, to be in a state of childlike wonder, is to have found the kingdom of heaven. To quote the French poet Paul Eluard, and I no longer remember the context, but it always struck me as a perfect for Jesus’ teachings on God’s kingdom: “There is another world, and it is in this world.”

Whether we access it is up to us.

The other lesson we learn from these children in Jesus’ life is to receive them with love, take good care of them. Don’t neglect or by any means abuse them.

In sermons on this passage, you often hear how children in Jesus’ day were less valued, And in a time of high infant and child mortality, I can imagine you would be more guarded with your affection, painful as that is to think of. The need for them, and their labor, was often great, as well. That’s no different in some parts of the world today. We’re privileged (here and now) to be able to treat and cherish our children the way we do, without fear of loss or the need to commodify them.

And yet, we also know that children now, as then, can be frustrating. Irritating at times. Never here at St. James of course, but I’ve seen parishioners shoot looks at parents whose kids were a little too raucous in the pews. Children may have a higher standing in our society today, but we still have our moments, like the disciples.

One of the things no one told me as a new parent was--well, two things. One, how much you’ll resort to yelling. Even non-yellers wind up yelling. It’s humbling. But second, how (sometimes) dull children can be, especially in those years when you have to look after them at every moment. The long Saturday afternoons stacking blocks, dressing dolls and reading the same children’s book over and over--those can be hard times. And of course you feel tremendous amounts of guilt just entertaining this thought because you know time is fleeting and they’re soon going to be grown and gone and all that. But still.

So across 2000 years and vastly different cultures Jesus’ message still rings true: get your priorities straight and appreciate these little ones. More.

The writer and Episcopal priest Barbara Brown Taylor preached a sermon on this passage; it’s published in a collection of her sermons I came upon years ago, but I never read this sermon until just this week. I want to read (actually conclude with) an excerpt from that.

She writes:

Do you want to spend time with God? Then get down on the floor with little Sarah over there. Get finger paint all over your clothes and laugh at her dumb jokes and never mind that you have more important things to do, like finishing the laundry or earning a living. She is not filler. She is the main event. Opening yourself up to her is better for your soul than finishing a project or getting a raise or even reading a whole book of the Bible.

There will be no payback. Oh, she may shout your name next time she sees you and run to hug your knees, but you cannot list her as a job reference or ask her to lend you a hundred dollars to get your car fixed. She is not good for anything like that. She is not in charge of anything, she cannot buy you anything, she will not even remember your birthday or invite you over for supper with some friends. She has no status, no influence, no income, which makes her great in God’s eyes. She’s just what you need. And you, you are able to work on your own greatness by understanding that it is what you do when you think no one is looking, with someone who does not count, for no reward, that ushers you into the presence of God.

That last line, again, and you could remind yourself of this every day of your life: (quote) “It is what you do when you think no one is looking, with someone who does not count, for no reward, that ushers you into the presence of God.”

Or as Jesus said: Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.”

Amen.

Read the original on astridjoystorm.substack.com

Comments

Nothing yet. Say the first thing.

    Sign in to join the conversation.