This Homily was preached in the Morning Prayer service at the Trinity School for Ministry Chapel on Tuesday, April 8th, 2014.
Yesterday, as I was waiting for lunch
to start, I was over in the bookstore reading one of the Calvin and
Hobbes collections Pam keeps under her desk. I'm sure most of you are
aware of the comic strip—thankfully not a collection of two
historical thinkers having a dialogue on civil liberties. It's the
story of Calvin, an inconsiderate, wildly imaginative, and reckless
child and his stuffed animal friend, Hobbes, who comes to life in
Calvin's imagination. Calvin likes to go on adventures in his own
mind, and he brings Hobbes along for the ride, often blaming the
stuffed tiger for the trouble he gets in when his parents come around
to discipline him. In other words, Calvin is a kid just like any
other kid you've probably met. I have a younger sister that's going
to be turning eleven this year, and I'm friends with enough of the
families in our community to know that children can be troublesome,
to say the least. In fact, the most discomforting sound in a
household of small children is actually the sound of silence. It's
usually a sign that they're up to no good. Most parents know that
quiet means it's time to start calling names to find out just what
sort of mischief is going on behind closed doors.
Now, if this is an accurate description
of children, then we need to consider how that might influence our
understanding of the teachings of Jesus in Mark which are taught
while a child is with him. It makes me think of the time last week or
the week before (they all kind of blend together at this point in the
semester), when Rebecca did the Scripture reading with her daughter
Naomi in her arms. I want us to hold onto that image while we go
through the teachings of Jesus this morning, because that's the same
thing Jesus was doing as he taught his disciples.
First, let's jump back a little bit in
our Gospel passage. I'll be starting from the story which drove Jesus
to pick up this child, where the disciples are caught arguing over
who was the greatest. Jesus uses the child to emphasize the point
that the one who wants to be the greatest must be the least. Does a
parent holding their child consider themselves greater or less than
the child in their arms? What comes first; the parent's physical toll
of holding and calming a child, or that child's peace? Jesus is
enacting the very lesson he teaches the disciples here by holding
this child in his arms. A child may want to be the greatest, but a
parent wants to serve. By his actions, holding this child in his
arms, he shows the servant leadership that is expected of his
disciples.
Next, John says to him that there was
another person casting out demons in his name and that the disciples
tried to stop that person because it wasn't one of them. But, Jesus
says no one doing mighty works in his name can do so for long and
still be against him. The child Jesus is holding is the example here.
The child doesn't fully know who Jesus is, but wouldn't it be
counter-intuitive for Jesus to use that as an excuse to not let the
child come to him? This is essentially what the disciples were doing
to this person casting out demons. They were saying, “you only sort
of know about Jesus, so you aren't allowed to know him at all.” No,
Jesus wants those who seek to find and those who ask to be given the
gift of Life.
This brings us to the reading for
today, “Whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me
to sin, it would be better for him if a great millstone were hung
around his neck and he were thrown into the sea.” By debating who
is the greatest, we are not only harming ourselves with the
corruption of pride, but we are harming those Jesus came to serve by
not also bending down to pick up the lowly and serve them in parental
humility. Paul calls himself a father to the Corinthian church
through the Gospel preached to them. All ministers are to serve the
church as a parent serves their child. I don't have children of my
own, but I can venture to guess that raising a child should bring to
mind your shortcomings before it does your merits as a parent. In the
same way, we must lead the people of God in full humility, knowing
that only by his grace are we able to be examples, and not by any
righteousness of our own. The infants of the faith can teach those
full-grown just as well as the other way around. By boasting about
greatness, we don't just distance ourselves from those we are called
to serve, but blind ourselves to the lessons they have to teach us.
Likewise, we should not cut off those
who may not fully understand from partaking in the power of Jesus
Christ. If Priscilla and Aquila had reprimanded Apollos for his
preaching instead of instructing him in the Gospel, his entire
ministry may have been erased from the Church's history. The duty of
the minister is the equip the saints for the ministry, meaning all
who come earnestly seeking after the name of Jesus Christ are to be
welcomed and brought up in the faith to share the Gospel and
encourage the saints.
Because Jesus Christ came to us when we
were still insolent children and patiently dealt with us, not as we
deserved, but out of his love, so we follow his example. By the
redemption in his blood, which sanctifies us to be a holy priesthood,
and by the promise fulfilled in his resurrection, which seals us with
his Holy Spirit, we are to share in the work which he has prepared
for us to walk in. Do the work set before you in the humility of
Christ, fully aware of your sin. Receive those who seek after God
with the love of Christ, knowing that you, also, were once lost. And
be purged of those evil things which would keep you from fulfilling
this call through repentance by the cleansing power of the Holy
Spirit.
By these things we remain in the light
and are the salt of the earth. In these things we have peace as the
family of God, adopted by the Spirit of Christ to be true children
and heirs of his kingdom.
