A child in the lap of the Lord

A homily for the 25th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle B

Jesus with Children (Vogel)

The readings for this homily.

When we were children, the world was vast and full of wonder. Everything was new. Some things were frightening, but someone was there to help us, to comfort us, to guide us. As we got older, the world got smaller, the mystery and wonder of it started to vanish. Many of the old fears went away but sometimes newer, worse fears took their place, and we took on responsibilities as well.

All of this is a part of growing up and growing older. But all of this pulls us further away from the innocence of childhood. The simplicity of it.

The imagination of a child is extraordinary, it’s boundless. My kids could weave an epic story out of a couple sticks and a pile of sand. As adults, it is all too easy to lose that sense of wonder.

The apostles had lost that sense of wonder. Jesus is offering them everything. A share in the eternal glory of God Himself. Yet all they can see is a chance for power, for their share of the glory of the world.

Think about what they had just witnessed in the gospel of Mark. They had seen Jesus heal a child possessed by a demon that had been with him for years, causing him to throw himself in fire and water, and have convulsions. The boy’s father begged Jesus to help him, and he did. He healed the boy and made him whole again, and in the process, restored the father’s faith, and the child’s innocence.

That brings us to today’s Gospel, when Jesus tells the apostles for the second time that he will be betrayed, murdered, and rise again. And they don’t understand. In fact, they understand so little that they start arguing about which of them is the best. They still think he’s come to command an army.

This is something they do more than once in the gospels. Who will be first in the kingdom?

The apostles have their eyes fixed on the ground, on the people in power, on the things of this world. They are modeling themselves not on Jesus, but on the people who seem to matter most in the world. The people who are at that very moment plotting to crucify him. All three of today’s readings flow together very well to illustrate this.

In the first reading, from the book of Wisdom, we see that the wise of the world cannot see God’s wisdom. This is a very powerful prophecy of Jesus’s passion. The persecutors will not believe that the righteous man is truly good, because if he is, then it condemns their own behavior, and they can’t have that. They plan to test if he’s really gentle, really patient, really the son of God, by torturing him to death. These are the people the world considers wise, and powerful, and worthy, and they are revealing themselves as cruel, and petty, and ignorant. That’s who the apostles are aspiring to be.

And then in the second reading, we hear from letter of James, where he condemns “selfish ambition.” He says that the wisdom of the world is not true wisdom. It is not from God. God’s wisdom is pure, peaceable, gentle, compliant, merciful, fruitful, constant, and sincere. People who know this wisdom bring peace to the world, and people who don’t bring violence because of their envy and their ambition.

This is why James‚ and Jesus‚ condemn selfish ambition--ambition that only serves you and your needs. Status for the sake of status.

And that finally brings us back to Jesus, and the apostles. In his true wisdom, he offers a child as their ideal, and the child’s protection, as their duty. A child is still full of wonder at creation, which is pretty wonderful when you get right to it. To believe in God, to believe in Jesus, is to live in wonder, to live in radical amazement, every moment of the day.

We all know that our children will grow up, and we want them to. We want them to succeed‚ in school, in work, in life. And that’s a good kind of an ambition. But think about what we want for our children most of all. We want them to be happy.

In the New Testament there’s a word that’s used very often. It begins each of the beatitudes. It is makarios and it is translated two ways in English: happy and blessed.

Happiness is a blessing, and the blessed are happy.

Now, as someone who struggles with depression, I know that happiness isn’t always possible. Sometimes, it isn’t even mostly possible, and that’s also part of what Jesus offers. He didn’t just tell us we would be blessed and happy. He also told us we would have to pick up our crosses and follow him.

But even when we struggle, we are still a people of hope. If we approach God with the simple faith of a small child, we know that even in our darkness, we are still blessed, and safe in the arms of a father who loves us.

Who would you rather be: an important, powerful person, like the apostles want to be? Or a child in the lap of the Savior? If you seek God with the innocence and wonder and pure love of a child, you will find him. You will find the only one who can make your life truly blessed.

Happiness in this world can be elusive, but the fact that you are here right now‚ drawn by faith, by habit, by hope‚ shows that you know where true happiness can be found. It is found resting in the lap of the Lord, in wonder at the creation all around us, and the great gift of faith that Jesus gave us. Amen