"The Shelter, Nurture, and Spiritual Fellowship
of the Children of God"

First Presbyterian Church
October 21, 2007
Peter S. Buehler
Mark 10:13-16

Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God
as a little child will never enter it.

Our passage from the Gospel is one of those that we cherish; its message is simple and accessible -- Jesus loves children and welcomes them. Of course it doesn't stop there -- in fact, it doesn't start there; it starts with the disciples and their attitude toward children. If the disciples think they are a bother, we quickly learn from Jesus, they've got it all wrong. In fact -- and we would agree with Jesus here -- the disciples could learn a thing or two about having a trusting, childlike spirit. And they, the disciples, need to stop being so full of themselves; they need to stop being the Lord's gatekeepers, as if that were their job. Mainly they need to understand that a childlike attitude is not a bad thing, in fact -- surprise! -- it is required for entering the kingdom of God. Therefore adults, even the most committed and serious followers of Jesus, need to grow up and start behaving like children.

We love this passage also because it's visual. If we were given a Bible as children, one with illustrations, no doubt it had a picture of this scene: Jesus seated, his arms around a smiling group of girls and boys, who, we notice, are completely themselves, playful, carefree and happy. There is no standoffishness; the children want to be near him. We cling to this image ourselves: it reminds us of Jesus' gentleness, kindness and love. Also in this picture, faith in Jesus Christ is wonderfully uncomplicated, it is warm and personal, and it is inclusive -- no one is left unloved. So we join with the children, singing with joyous conviction:
Jesus loves the little children, All the children of the world. Red and yellow, black and white, All are precious in His sight, Jesus loves the little children of the world.

It's a powerful message. It is also a question, one  directed at us, a question that goes something like What does it mean to receive the kingdom of God as a little child? Is it a simple thing to do? Because we can't go back in time and be children again -- and surely Jesus isn't saying we ought to empty our minds of everything we've ever learned, the experiences we've had that have made us who we are. Still, if the Gospel deals with Jesus' love for little children -- and his annoyance with his adult disciples -- does that mean that something bad happens between childhood and adulthood, that after age twelve or thirteen we lose our innocence, that we grow out of a natural state of grace and become hopelessly cynical, too grown up for our own good?

After all, it wasn't that long ago that Western society had the opposite mindset: a negative attitude toward childhood. It was Horace Bushnell, the great 19th century educator, challenged the prevailing view of his time that children were born in sin and grew up in sin, and therefore had to be converted when he/she came "to a mature age." Rather, said, Bushnell, every child should grow up "open to the world as one that is spiritually renewed," loving "what is good from her earliest  year." That is much like our view today -- children are born innocent. Unfortunately this view leads to the notion that today adults are the problem, that world-weary adults need to relearn and reclaim childlike love and kindness and innocence. In some ways we find ourselves envying our children; we'd not admit it, but we are jealous of the ease with which, in the Gospels, they come right up to Jesus and receive his blessing.

We want that too! Not in a sentimental way, but in an adult way -- that is, in the center of ourselves, in our soul. We want to feel Jesus' hands blessing us. Because we're tired, and we can be discouraged, and after all it is we do all the giving, so why should children get all Jesus' attention! To tell the truth, we would love to be close to him, to let go of our need to be strong, to be on top of things, to be self-assured and self-reliant; we would love to just completely let go, to relax, to lean back into the arms of Jesus, to feel what it's like once again to be perfectly carefree and perfectly cared for. We would love to receive the kingdom of God as a little child. Lord, how do we do that? Teach us how to do that!

He does that. The key word in our passage is receive. Jesus teaches us to receive. It's something we learn about our whole lives, not just how to give, but how to receive.

I wonder how good you are at receiving? When someone does something for you which is very considerate and thoughtful and unexpected, does it make you happy, or does it make you uneasy? Does it produce joy in you, or anxiety? We see Christianity as a life of giving, taking Jesus' words, It is more blessed to give than to receive (Acts 20:35) as a hallmark of his teaching. Yet the problem is that we can start to think we don't deserve to receive, or that if we receive it just means that we have to go out and give more to make up for it. As if God is keeping a giant tally sheet, and to get credit we have to be on the plus side in giving, so receiving just puts us more in the negative.

I find it hard myself. Receiving is a challenge; it shouldn't be, but it is. Just sitting still with life, with a sense of blessing, is difficult. My mind fills up with all the things I ought to be doing -- my to-do list is like my cat who knows the exact moment to be annoying. We sit down to dinner and right then he strides over and starts meowing, vocalizing, making his demands -- Wait, wait, me first! I ignore him, and I say out loud I'm going to ignore him, and he knows I can't ignore him, and I don't.

So it is with the voice inside us that manages to vocalize, to speak up, when we are presented with a blessing, something to receive, something perhaps we haven't earned or worked for but have just been given. Somehow we need to learn to rest, to sit still long enough for the voice of guilt, this distracting voice, to fade.

Receive the kingdom of God as a little child, says Jesus. The phrase "kingdom of God" in the New Testament also can mean God's word, even Jesus himself -- it's a complex and rich phrase. So receiving the kingdom of God as a child can simply mean taking time each day for sitting still and having time with Jesus.
Sitting at his feet, like Mary. Not doing anything, just listening, just being. Letting the world go ahead and bang its pots and pans, letting our to-do list fuss and fume and vocalize, while we stay still and trust the One who is the true Giver, the One who renews life, the One who calls us to himself and embraces us, the One who knows us better than we know ourselves, the One who forgives our faults and heals our diseases, the One who is merciful and gracious.

It's easy and it's hard: receiving the kingdom of God as a little child means setting aside time in our day for quiet, for reading the Bible, for prayer. Perhaps our best prayer is just being still.

The second Great End of the Church, the shelter, nurture, and spiritual fellowship of the children of God, is the one End, or purpose of the church, that doesn't involve doing. The others involve effort: the proclamation of the gospel for the salvation of humankind; the maintenance of divine worship; the preservation of the truth; the promotion of social righteousness; and the exhibition of the kingdom of heaven to the world. But the shelter, nurture, and spiritual fellowship of the children of God starts with knowing how to receive: how to open ourselves to the Holy One, how to listen for his still small voice, how to give ourselves permission to pray, how to turn from thinking about faith as an ought -- something we ought to have -- to faith as a conduit, a channel, a way of gaining the fullness of God's promises for our lives.

I love the fact that the second of the great purposes of the church has to do with the children of God. For one thing, it reminds us of our passage, that Jesus welcomes children to himself, and therefore he welcomes us -- the church is a place of welcome, it is where we feel welcome. But it also reminds us that we need to pay attention to those among us who are children. It's not just that they need us, that the church is where they come to Sunday School in order to learn from adults; the fact is we need them. We need to pay attention to them, we need to listen to them. What a difference it makes to just say hello, to say our name, to ask their name, and then to greet that child by name the next Sunday. We wonder if that is Sunday School too: children realizing that the church cares about them enough to learn their name, feeling that they are welcome, part of the community -- not just their parents, but them. What a difference it makes to be received as a child of God!

Of course children are also a challenge. They make demands, lots of them.
They are not born, it seems, with the capacity to wait, so everything has to happen immediately or they are not happy. They are not apt to say to their parent, "When you have a free moment, will you look at my picture? (or hear my complaints about what my brother just did to me?)" Author Judy Hull, in her book When You Receive a Child, makes the point that "small children seem remarkably free to walk into one's life with a 'Look at this!' No apologies. No preparatory remarks. A simple, unselfconscious intrusion of their existence into the life of another."

Maybe we can learn from this. Maybe the church can learn from this. That if children can act this way -- needy, demanding, and unselfconscious -- and if Jesus welcomes them as they are, then perhaps we, who also are God's children, can feel free to come before our heavenly Parent in the same fashion: at any time, with any concern, any need, knowing that we are listened to and loved.

The church is a place where we should always feel free, always feel welcome -- our hospitality toward one another is a powerful way of expressing God's love; it is a winsome way of being the church, providing shelter, nurture, and spiritual fellowship for our friends, the children of God.

I love those moments in the life of this church -- and they are too many to number -- when an act of kindness, even a small but thoughtful gesture, perhaps a hug or a smile, is exactly the human touch that is needed by a needy person. Life can be difficult, and we may come to church with a burden unknown to our friends; perhaps we ourselves are unaware of its heaviness. At such times a warm and sincere word, a seemingly small act of Christian hospitality, is like a blessing from the Lord himself. We need it. We receive his blessings through our friends.

And Jesus does come to us. The way we receive one another, the way we go out of our way to receive children, the way we welcome every person we meet on Sunday morning -- that is an expression of faith. Our spiritual fellowship is ever-expanding; there is no unwelcome person. Church growth is not so much about numbers as it is about receiving and giving. For us at this church, at this time in our life together, it is so important to understand that the gospel is about people.
Our life as a church is in God's hands; what is asked of us is to love one another and not hold back. This is how we grow.

I'd like to close with a prayer given by James G. K. McClure, the President of McCormick Theological Seminary. It's from 1904, from a service of dedication at the Fourth Presbyterian Church of Chicago. It fits with our vision for First Presbyterian Church of Santa Barbara. I invite you to make it your prayer:
My soul's desire and prayer to God for this church is that its heart may be like unto the heart of God, that heart that loves every child of earth… O, that this church may be bigger than any one creed, sect or class or race or color. May it be so big that any human being may feel at home here, may draw nigh to God here. May it be the mission of this church to tell every person in unmistakable terms how dear they are -- preciously dear -- to God, and then to live those words in the magnanimity of its welcome, the warmth of its fellowship, and the generosity of its devotion.

May it be so for us. Amen.