“Great Welcome” – Sermon on Sept 23, 2012
Scripture: Mark 9: 30-37 September 23, 2012
Leaving that region, they traveled through Galilee. Jesus didn’t want anyone to know he was there, for he wanted to spend more time with his disciples and teach them. He said to them, “The Son of Man is going to be betrayed into the hands of his enemies. He will be killed, but three days later he will rise from the dead.” They didn’t understand what he was saying, however, and they were afraid to ask him what he meant.
After they arrived at Capernaum and settled in a house, Jesus asked his disciples, “What were you discussing out on the road?” But they didn’t answer, because they had been arguing about which of them was the greatest. He sat down, called the twelve disciples over to him, and said, “Whoever wants to be first must take last place and be the servant of everyone else.”
Then he put a little child among them. Taking the child in his arms, he said to them, “Anyone who welcomes a little child like this on my behalf welcomes me, and anyone who welcomes me welcomes not only me but also the One who sent me.”
Sermon: Great Welcome Rev. Doreen Oughton
So what do you all think of my altar display here? Was it welcoming to the children? Is it welcoming to you? There’s an awful lot in the bible passage this morning, but I’m going to keep my focus on the last part, where Jesus takes a child in his arms, and says, when you welcome one such as this child, you welcome me, and you welcome God who sent me. He says this in addressing the disciples’ arguments amongst themselves about which of them is the greatest. The line just before this, about how the one wishing to be the greatest must be last, must serve everyone else first. But this line about welcoming the child seems a little disconnected to the rest.
Some translations of this passage use the word welcome, some use receive, some go with accept, and some say hold. What is it all getting at? I wondered if the statement is an instruction to welcome any child, – someone else’s child, and that doesn’t seem so hard. Children are often a delight to hold, and have around, and are usually easily pleased. I know when my children had their friends over, I never had to clean the house up before they came the way I did with other company. I could give them whatever snack was in the house and not feel I had to bake from scratch or pick up something special, or cook an elaborate meal. Is that it? Is Jesus saying he and God can slip into our lives with as little hassle as a child’s playmate?
No, no one seems tempted to go with that interpretation. And neither is this a passage instructing us that we must be like child in order to enter the kindom of heaven. That one comes up in two weeks. No, this is about receiving, welcoming, accepting and holding children, but not just for a visit, but permanently. Again, that might not seem so difficult. In our society children can seem not only welcomed, but catered to to an unhealthy degree – some might say spoiled. They are given all kinds of high-priced gadgets, expensive clothes and shoes, get mani/pedi’s, play sports and instruments and take all kinds of lessons that cost a fortune. Was Jesus telling his followers that children are to be more indulged, and we can feel good about having achieved success in this area?
Children were certainly not indulged in those times. They held an interesting place in both Roman and Jewish families. They were loved by their families and represented the future – would carry on the family name, provide for aging parents, and keep the family genes going. But until they reached adulthood, it wasn’t all that advantageous to have them. Less than half of them made it to adulthood. They were the first to be struck with fatal illnesses, they were more mouths to feed, and they weren’t very helpful. They didn’t bring much to the table so to speak. They couldn’t own anything. They were, in the words of one writer, insiders left on the outside. They were pretty insignificant.
Another theologian noted that one “received” in someone’s name was like an emissary. For example, when one government receives the foreign minister of another country, they are officially receiving that government. Jesus seems to be saying that children, those insignificant, incredibly vulnerable, non-productive little ones, are his emissaries, that when they come to us – to our homes, our churches, our world, our lives, that it is like Jesus coming to us, like God coming to us. It reminds me of the teaching of that which you do to the least of these, you do to me. And so you can see how it connects with the line just before it, that whoever wishes to be the greatest must be servant of all – even servant of the most vulnerable, the least significant in our world, the ones who are not very productive and may not ever have much to offer.
Think about the fuss that gets made when an important guest is coming, or thinking of joining a church. I’ve read articles over the years about where various U.S. presidents and their families have gone to church, and wondered what it would be like to have someone like that sitting in the pews. Or any famous person – imagine having someone like that as a friend, a relative, a classmate. Wouldn’t you try to impress them? Wouldn’t you love to have bragging rights, wouldn’t you love to have an important connection like that? Wouldn’t you want some of the aura of importance, that greatness, to rub off on you? Come on? I know I would probably be a little star struck even of someone I didn’t really admire or appreciate all that much.
Jesus says basically that we should make a fuss like that over everyone, including, even especially, over those who have no obvious greatness that will rub off. And you may not have to clean your house for a child, but for a child to feel welcomed and accepted and received and held, you have to pay attention and take care. Can they reach what they need to reach? Are there comfortable places for them to sit? Are there visual and tactile and audio and kinetic things with which they can engage? Are there foods that they like to eat? Are their questions and comments welcomed? Are others interested in what’s going on in their lives? Do they feel safe? You can see how much service and care it can take. And again, the child in this story represents anyone who might be considered “the least of these.”
There is a welcome statement going around on the internet. I’ve seen it posted in a few places. It is the welcome statement of Our Lady of Lourdes Catholic Community in Daytona Beach, Florida.
We extend a special welcome to those who are single, married, divorced, gay, filthy rich, dirt poor, yo no habla Ingles. We extend a special welcome to those who are crying new-borns, skinny as a rail or could afford to lose a few pounds.
We welcome you if you can sing like Andrea Bocelli or like our pastor who can’t carry a note in a bucket. You’re welcome here if you’re “just browsing,” just woke up or just got out of jail. We don’t care if you’re more Catholic than the Pope, or haven’t been in church since little Joey’s Baptism.
We extend a special welcome to those who are over 60 but not grown up yet, and to teenagers who are growing up too fast. We welcome soccer moms, NASCAR dads, starving artists, tree-huggers, latte-sippers, vegetarians, junk-food eaters. We welcome those who are in recovery or still addicted. We welcome you if you’re having problems or you’re down in the dumps or if you don’t like “organized religion,” we’ve been there too.
If you blew all your offering money at the dog track, you’re welcome here. We offer a special welcome to those who think the earth is flat, work too hard, don’t work, can’t spell, or because grandma is in town and wanted to go to church.
We welcome those who are inked, pierced or both. We offer a special welcome to those who could use a prayer right now, had religion shoved down your throat as a kid or got lost in traffic and wound up here by mistake. We welcome tourists, seekers and doubters, bleeding hearts … and you!
What do you think? I love the words, they are warm and welcoming – wonderful words. But I have to wonder, are they just words? I can say I welcome children or any of the others named in the greeting, but does that just mean they are welcome to come and adapt to the way things are done here? Are they welcome to plant their butts in a pew and sit quietly and listen? Or has Our Lady of Lourdes church really looked at their worship space, their liturgy, their fellowship, their missions, their music, and so on and so on, and made thoughtful changes that show this expansive welcome? Is there a way to truly welcome such a diverse group? I don’t know, I don’t know. It feels like quite a challenge. But maybe it’s not all that hard after all. If I looked at and spoke to and tended to each person coming through that door as if they were Christ’s very self, how could anyone of them not feel welcomed. How hard could that be? What do you think?
