Precious in his sight: A meditation on Matthew 19:15

"One day children were brought to Jesus in the hope that he would lay hands on them and pray over them. The disciples shooed them off. But Jesus intervened: 'Let the children alone, don't prevent them from coming to me. God's kingdom is made up of people like these.' After laying his hands on them, he left." Matthew 19:13-15, The Message

It's another day in the life of Jesus, the wandering healer/teacher. He's just finished yet another round of discourse with a group of religious types who continually are looking for ways to discredit him. This time the subject happens to be about marriage and by the end of their conversation he has managed to confound both his enemies and his friends. A group of locals have been patiently waiting for him to finish their interchange that he might pronounce a blessing on their children. The disciples, acting more like his handlers than his students, are more intent on shooing them away. 'Give the guy a break for crying out loud,' I imagine one of them saying to these groupies of sorts. But Jesus will have none of it and tersely rebukes his disciples and announces, "Bring them to me, everyone of them. They are a blessing and they represent just the kind of citizens that the kingdom of heaven is made up of."

So here's Jesus, sitting in the midst of a gaggle of parents who have been bringing them their children to bless. We don't know how many and we don't know how long it takes but I love the little detail Matthew gives: "When he placed his hands on them [that is to say, all of them] he went on from there." No one gets missed. Every child is welcomed and lovingly touched. We're not told if there were any in that group that were afflicted with birth defects or suffered from abject poverty (although both are possible). We're just told that he warmly gathers each one to himself and blesses the Father for creating each life.

I've been reading at Roselawn, our city's elementary school, since our oldest was in kindergarten (and she's 22 now!) I show up on a scheduled day and read the stories that kids love to hear - about talking pigs and frogs and teddy bears who are really mean and pirates who refuse to change diapers (oh, now that's a good one!) I don't read many Bible stories. It' not that I'm not allowed; it's just that I haven't found many good Bible stories in children's books that are neither too preachy or illustrated well. All I do is read to them and make them laugh and want to hear more. This year, more so than ever before, when I enter a room kids flock to me to hug me. And not just little girls (that's a pretty normal occurrence) but lots of little boys, too. They want to show their love and delight with my company and are in need of the same. I return each hug - first, because I love hugs; second, because each of these children are precious.

I celebrate their significance and this is my reward: they hug me. But this is what I really think: I think that when I read to them somehow, some way, they hear their Maker's voice in mine; that just like animals can sense things lost to our human perspective, children often have a means of discernment that evades we grown-up ones. And I also think (or I certainly hope) that the Spirit of God in me stirs something within them and this is why as they hear my voice they are drawn to me. But not me, Christ in me and as I return their hugs Jesus in me blesses each one. So, I love reading at Roselawn. Sure, I like to entertain people and I think I'm a pretty good story teller, too. But I love this certain intangible transaction that occurs every time I enter a room via the Spirit of Jesus who dwells in me.

A few days ago at our local Justice Center, I shared a similar thought with about 20 inmates ranging between 18 and 50 years old. I took them into that moment of Jesus touching, blessing, celebrating each child that was placed on his lap or thrust in his arms. For a brief moment I saw these assorted individuals in their jail issue orange jumpsuits as little children with their whole lives ahead of them and not as the scarred, broken, chewed-up people they have become because of sin, pain and self-hatred in all its manifestations. I told them that in a group this size, it was possible that there was someone here that instead of being celebrated at birth they had been rejected or seen as a burden and a hardship to this very day they bear the emotional scars from such abandonment. And then I said this, "But if that had been you as a child thrust into Jesus' arms he would have received you gladly and blessed you and thanked the Father for you." In that moment, a 50-ish year old woman in the audience began to weep. And so before I closed the service on inspiration I lifted my hands over that group of sex offenders, alcoholics and drug addicts and blessed them and thanked God for each one. Hugging is discouraged at the jail - for good reason - but perhaps in that moment of blessing I'd like to think the Father reached out to hug each one.

Jesus loves the little children
All the children of the world
Red and yellow, black and white
They are precious in his sight

Jesus loves the little children of the world.
  - "Jesus loves the Little Children" by C. Herbert Woolston, 1856-1927