Welcome the Child… Welcome Christ Proper 20b: Mark 9:30-37 September 21, 2003 Elizabeth H. Wheatley Church of the Resurrection, Starkville, Mississippi Blessed be the Name of God. Can't you just hear the whispers and shushing amongst the disciples when they are only half listening to Jesus while concentrating on their own arguments about who was the greatest? And then there is the dead silence when Jesus asks them "What were you arguing about?" I don't think it would be inaccurate or harsh to acknowledge that we, like the disciples, tend to be a people obsessed with "who is the greatest," position and power. What matters is "getting ahead" - growing up to be a productive, profit-earning, self-sufficient, upwardly mobile member of society. Even in the context of the church and amongst ordained ministers, conversations of upward mobility and status are prevalent. One of the most common questions posed to me as a curate has been when will I be getting my own church, when will I earn the title of rector, which technically means "ruler." From my own perspective, with regard to the upcoming move and change of positions, I must admit an odd mixture of humility AND pride. Several people have described this upcoming move as a promotion. I don't know if that is a fair assessment. Yes, it is a new position. It is a different position. But, in many ways, it is a position in which I will have far less power and authority in the big picture of the church hierarchy. In actuality, I am moving a step away from being a "rector." But I will get to wield the new title of "Canon," which merely indicates that I will be a representative of the Bishop, one who works out of the Cathedral - the Cathedral being the location of the Bishop's Cathedra, his chair, his position of power and authority. But, there is also the unavoidable recognition that the title "Canon" hails images of large, powerful weapons - Position and power as a Canon. On the other hand, my actual title will be the "Canon for Youth and Young Adult Ministries," which in effect (no offense to the youth) makes me the Canon for ministries to a community of people who are often relegated to the "lowest" rung on the priority list - our youth, those young people with whom most of us have no idea how to relate or to talk, those "less-than-adults" whom we assume don't want to be around us and, on occasion, we might rather they just go to their rooms, out of sight, until they grow out of their awkwardness and unpredictable behavior and allow them to come out - to be welcome - only when they are ready to behave and present themselves as mature, upstanding citizens. So, yes, there are ways in which accepting this position might be experienced as a demotion, after all I was a youth minister before I went to seminary, before the Masters in Divinity, in my own "youth." In a manner of speaking accepting this position might be experienced as something akin to being sent back to hang with the children, the youth, at the kids table, not mature enough or powerful enough to be seated with the adults at the big table (Indicate the altar/table.) Yes, I admit to wrangling with the question of whether I will have the "position and power" that I could have had if I had accepted a position to be a rector… "ruler" of my own parish, my own domain. Yes, I confess that I probably would have been all wrapped up in the competition with the disciples in their argument about who was the greatest. But then we hear Jesus speaking directly to that prideful place of fear and vulnerability: "Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all." Then he took a little child and put it among them; and taking it in his arms, he said to them, "Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me." When we hear Jesus' instructions about welcoming a child, it's important to recognize that in antiquity, children were not viewed as they are today. Children were not the cute faces with milk moustaches on billboards. There were no heart-wrenching photos of children with large, tear-filled eyes and pouting lips used by charitable organizations to solicit donations. Children were not the venues of grace in stories like that portrayed in the movie "Pay It Forward." Songs like "Teach Your Children Well" or "Mamas Don't Let your Babies Grow up to Be Cowboys" would not have been included in the musical lore of the people of antiquity. No, in the time when Jesus and the disciples walked along the way through Galilee, the child was a non-person - invisible - inconsequential - the one without position - powerless. The child was the lowest of the low, generally relegated to remaining out of sight, in the back rooms of those who were people of means; or in less stable situations, the children were left to fend for themselves on the streets, often abandoned to be strays, urchins, garbage grubbers. For Jesus to say, "Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me" is the equivalent of Jesus bringing a mentally unstable, filthy, smelly, panhandling, homeless person into our midst and saying, "Welcome this crazy lady, this child of God, as if she were me. She is the Christ in your midst. Welcome her and you welcome God." That's about how shocking and difficult it would have been for the disciples to hear Jesus' statement. Such an open-armed welcome, such radical acceptance was unheard of and probably was against the religious and political laws of their day. To paraphrase theologian Karl Barth regarding this type of radical acceptance - welcome - of others: Jesus challenged the disciples and challenges us to think of every human being, even the oddest, most villainous or miserable as one to whom Jesus Christ is Brother and God is Loving Parent; and to deal with him or her on this assumption - the assumption that every human being is of the same flesh and blood, the same Being as God incarnate in Jesus Christ. Jesus challenges the disciples with regard to their argument about position and power. He turns their assumptions about status and greatness on their head by saying in essence, "Your status as a disciple, as a follower of Christ, does not provide a free ticket to the front of the line at the pearly gates. You might even end up at the back. There is no position or power to be found in being a disciple. Position and power are not the issue. This thing we've been doing together all of this time wandering the country-side, using rocks for pillows, preaching and teaching for long hours, healing the sick and extending offerings of fish and bread to those who are hungry - this journey we've been on together - is not about who gets to be first, who gets to be the greatest, who gets to go to heaven, who gets ahead. This thing - this journey that we are on - this mission is about learning how to be humble, how to be servants, how to open our eyes and hearts to the reality of pain and suffering in the world, and how to participate with God, how to embody the work of reconciliation and redemption. And the first step in this mission is the work laid out for us in learning how to welcome the children --- the non-persons, the invisible, the inconsequential, the ones without position, the powerless. It is about radical acceptance -- Radical Welcome. It is not about earning the right to be served, but the right and the honor to serve." Who are the "children" in our midst or those who remain on the margins? Who do we render non-persons, invisible, inconsequential, without position, powerless? I would suggest that the "children" of today ARE the youth, the homeless, the mentally disabled, the single mothers, the poor, the neglected, the "others" - anyone whom we name not as a person first but according to their "less than" status or their powerlessness. Now, how do we go about the business of welcoming these children, these people? Let us be imitators of Christ. Let us reach outside of our midst to those on the margins. Let us lift up those who are downtrodden in mind, body or spirit. Let us say to those who feel like they must avert their eyes or kneel in the presence of those who are "greater than them": I see you as a person, a child of God. Stand up, not by the wall, not in the back, but here, right here in our midst. Stand up and join us at the big table for a meal. Stand up and allow me to see you, allow me to serve you, allow me to bow to the Christ in you…. To welcome you as a child. Let us welcome the "children" of today and let us welcome Christ, God in our midst. Blessed be the Name of God.