Proper 22B | Trinity Episcopal Church, Matawan, NJ

Mark 10:2-16

“Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God.” These words of Jesus, here in the KJV, which I grew up with, are among some of the most beloved, comforting words people remember of Jesus’ ministry. I believe have sentimentalized them, however, so much so that we can’t hear their original context. They have lost their power.

Where we today may picture a lovely portrait of Jesus the Uncle, bouncing a toddler on his knee, when in reality what Jesus was doing was actually radical. Here he is once again. Jesus is turning tables.

Jesus and all the other inhabitants of Roman-occupied Palestine in his day were forced to live, under Roman legal codes. This was in addition to Jewish law which governed them religiously. In neither system did children have any voice or status. In Jewish Law, until a boy reached 12 or 13 could they even begin to enjoy any sense of autonomy or what we would call rights.

The same was true under the Roman laws. A Roman father held the power of life and death over his children and even his wife. Should he decide it, he could throw aside his wife and children, leaving them penniless, and that was perfectly legal. He could even order them killed. It doesn’t seem that this actually happened very often, mostly because of societal pressure, and yet, those laws remained. Women and children had very little worth and no authority.

“Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs.” Can you begin to see how radical Jesus’ words must have sounded. Jesus not only acknowledges children, but he celebrates them. “Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it.”

Through the years, I think we have often interpreted this sentence to mean we have to have the faith of a child when we join the church, and I do think there is a LOT to be said of having the faith of a child, an unshakable faith in the love of their parents and guardians, with God being that ultimate guardian and parent, but I think there’s more when we begin to dig down a bit.

When we receive the kingdom of God as a child, in THIS context, we might start to see the kingdom of God as a refuge. It’s not a place where we get priority seating based on our gender or age. It’s not a place where the powerful can flaunt their power over those lower in status. If the kingdom of God is populated by children, the neighborhood would look pretty different. If everyone in God’s kingdom knows that without God we are powerless, we are vulnerable; if everyone in God’s kingdom recognizes how much we need God, we might start to see each other with eyes of equality and not status or privilege.

The same was true for women, which is actually Jesus’ point in the first part of today’s gospel. Divorce had become the law of the land. Both Jews and Romans could get a divorce fairly easily, so much so that Jesus reacts strongly to the practice. We hear Jesus’ words as pretty harsh. He sounds like he’s condemning anyone who gets a divorce. What I hear Jesus doing, however, is calling us all to remember the sanctity of marriage and not to take it so lightly. Divorce laws again let a husband cast his family aside with no expectation of support.

Jesus reminds his audience how serious divorce is, its consequences for the spouse, and, by implication, the children. Certainly they did as we do now recognize there are times when divorce is the best solution for a troubled or abusive marriage, but Jesus is asking everyone to stop and remember how painful and troubling divorce can be. “Divorce hurts”, Jesus reminds us. Don’t forget it.

In both cases, Jesus reminds his hearers that kingdom of God is not a kingdom for the powerful, the neglectful, or the abusive, but it is for the vulnerable, the desperate, and the powerless.

I see similar themes in the life and ministry of St. Francis, whose feast day we celebrate today. Of course, St. Francis has become identified with our animal companions in this life. Francis’ prayer for the creation around us, including not just animals, but also plants, the sun and moon, and even death itself. He saw them all as our siblings each of us created by a loving God. And we each praise God in our own way, from birds singing and animals building nests, to even sister death taking us home to be with God.

But Francis’ life was one of care for the poor and powerless as well. Francis was born into the family of a wealthy silk merchant. He began life as a son of privilege, carousing with his friends and heading toward a life of wealth and excess. But then his life, guided by God, took him in very unexpected paths. He withdrew from his family. He began to live the life of a hermit, spending what money he had on the poor, lepers among them.

His father brought him up on charges for squandering his inheritance. Francis gave up his right to his father’s estate. He renounced any claim to fortune or authority and even gave his clothes back to his father. He led his life not just caring for the poor, but living as one of them.

He found his way to a local monastery, where he became a brother. His mission during this time was also to rebuild churches, mostly to give the powerless and outcast a place to worship God too. His mission to the poor was ultimately recognized by Pope Innocent III, and his brothers, along with women known as the Poor Clares, established their ministries across the world.

Francis saw in animals the same vulnerability as the poor. God alone provided for them, and they gave praise in return. Francis is even remembered for converting animals. If you ever seen an image of Francis and a wolf, the story behind that is one of my favorites. A dangerous wolf was terrorizing the residents of a town in Italy. The wolf had killed not only livestock, but also anyone who tried to catch or kill it. Francis, undaunted, went up into the hills, found the wolf and made peace with him. Then he brought the wolf back to the town, and the inhabitants made peace with him as well.

You can begin to understand that first line of Francis’ most famous prayer, “Lord, make me an instrument of your peace…”

I count it as one of the greatest joys in our time that even though we no longer live lives dependent on livestock or ride horses everywhere like those in Francis’ time did, we still have animals in our lives. From working animals like guide dogs and helper monkeys, to faithful house cats and even pet spiders and snakes, their lives enrich our lives. Even if we don’t have any four-footed or furry companions in our lives today, most of us can tell stories of those most special in our memories. We care for these our companions, and they give us so much in return.

Today we celebrate the vulnerable: children, the poor, the powerless, and we look to animals to be our guide, as they praise their creator God and teach us all the way of peace. Amen.