“Stop acting like such a child!”
“Grow up!”
“You’re so immature!”
I’m sure we’ve all heard those phrases before, either because we said them to someone else, or they said them to us. And we all know exactly what those words mean when we hear them. We want people to behave more rationally, to be more responsible, to quit being so emotionally reactive to events that do not go their way.
There’s a story about an old man giving advice to a younger man about the battle of good and evil within him. I’m sure you’ve seen it either on social media, or had someone tell it to you at some point in your life. The story is about two wolves, and the one that wins the battle, the story says, is the one that a person feeds the most. I’d like you to take the general idea of this story, but instead of two wolves doing battle for your soul, I want you to think of two children. Because within each of us are two children that are battling for our souls.
The first is the angry toddler. The one with tiny hands, grabbing everything he can get his hands on, and greedily yells, “Mine!” He thinks of everything as a transaction; if you scratch his back, he’ll scratch yours; right up until he doesn’t like your backscratching anymore, and at which point he will run off and find someone else to take your place. He blows up when things don’t go his way, or he doesn’t get what he wants. He blames others for all of his problems, because nothing is ever his fault. When you finally catch him or confront him, he lies, he cheats, or accuses you of blowing things out of proportion. A royal pain, a child that is spoiled rotten to the core.
It’s this kind of behavior that we see in the letter from James today. It might be more grown up, and hidden better from the eyes of those watching, but the same attitudes and vices that the young toddler never learned to control are now running rampant in the grown adult, coming out as envy and selfish ambition. And that leads to disorder, and wickedness of every kind. And James makes it clear that these conflicts come from the “cravings that are at war within you.” And worst of all, he ends the thought with the command that people should purify their hearts, because they are double-minded. That is, James recognizes that we have the choice to make decisions between the good, and the bad, and that the battle rages between the selfish, angry toddler within us, and another child.
There’s another meme that’s been making the rounds on social media recently, which says this: “Silence is golden. Unless you have kids. Then, it’s just suspicious.”
And this we see in the disciples today in our Gospel passage. People we now call saints, but at that moment were still behaving like spoiled little toddlers who wanted what they wanted, and were willing to argue about it.
Jesus and his disciples were passing through Galilee, and as they were walking, the disciples were arguing about who among them was the greatest. That is, they were displaying the old “King of the Hill” mentality, wanting to be better than the others, propping themselves up at the expense of the other disciples, so that they could claim the title as “greatest.”
And when Jesus asks them what they were talking about, they suddenly get really quiet. I’m sure they suddenly got real interested in shuffling dirt with their toes, or the pretty birds that were flying, or even, “Look, a squirrel!”
So Jesus has them sit down with him, and says to them, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” Then he took a little child and put it among them; and taking it in his arms, he said to them, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.”
Now, we like to make this passage about welcoming children, because it’s cute. Who doesn’t like children? And besides, we really do need to welcome children as though we are welcoming God into our midst, but this passage was more directed at the attitudes and desires of the disciples, because they were portraying the general tendency of the toddler within us.
You see, when they were arguing about being the greatest, what they were arguing about was the trappings of fame, namely the adulation, the freebies, the positions of power at the feasts and banquets, the ability to get people to do things for them, or to sway people with their words. They were arguing about vanity and petty pleasures. They wanted all those trappings of greatness, but they didn’t actually want to do the work of truly being great.
Moreover, by arguing which one of the disciples was greater than the others, they were willing to get that fame and greatness at the expense of others. That is, they just wanted to be considered greater than the other disciples. Again, they wanted the status, but not the work of being actually great.
And that’s why Jesus tells them that to be truly great, they must be a servant of all, and welcome even a child.
Now, there’s a bit of cultural and linguistic explanation we need to go over here right quick, because Jesus has made a play on words here – a dad joke, if you will – as well as made a reference to the social standing of the people in this dialogue.
First, the words in Greek for child and servant or slave are very similar. So Jesus telling the disciples that they need to be servants of all, and then pulling a child into their midst is making the connection between those two words. The second bit of information we need to know is that children, until they could truly be put to work, were considered an economic drain, just another mouth to feed, so they were often treated as servants; as gophers, runners, people to do the menial tasks, to help out in minor ways. Once they grew up enough to be of assistance, they were put to work, and given the rights and privileges you would expect of a member of society.
People generally didn’t think of kids as a way of getting ahead in society. They paid no attention to those kids, because what you needed in order to be great in society was people who would agree to the transactional terms of your need for greatness. They could offer you political clout, financial support, or protection in exchange for whatever you gave them. Children, especially little children, were of no political value whatsoever. They could do nothing to help you become great in the eyes of the world.
And so when Jesus has made the play on words with the servant and the child, and tells them that they need to welcome a child, he is basically asking, “Are you willing to serve the servant?” “Will this child become just as important to you as the Kings and presidents, governors and minor nobility?” And more than just this child, the question really drives down to the heart of the matter, which is the dignity of every human being. “Will you welcome anyone, that is, everyone, in my name? Will you welcome even those who are of no benefit to you politically, socially, or financially? Because if you welcome this child, or people like this child who can offer you nothing on your path to greatness, you may very well be welcoming God.”
For those of you who have been anxiously thinking that I’ve only mentioned one child that is at war within us, you can rest easy.
We all can recite the story of creation, and we know that we have all been created in the image of God. Which makes you, me, and everyone, a child of God. And so when we look at those people who cannot support our mission, or help us toward our goals, or move us closer to the greatness we desire, we must stop and reflect on the fact that they, too, are a child of God. What we see before us is a reflection of Christ – the same Christ that is within us. We should see them as a reflection of ourselves.
This child of God, this servant spirit, this child that sees Christ within every person, regardless of their social standing, their current status, their health or financial stability, is at war with the angry toddler that just wants his own way.
Now, to be ambitious is not a bad thing. To want to be great is not a bad thing in itself. The question is how are we willing to get there, and what is our final goal? Is it about elevating ourselves, or about elevating others? Is it about placing ourselves above others, or about bringing others to an equal level? Is it about our own status, or is it about serving the Christ that we see in others?
When we are able to humble ourselves to serve the servants, to serve the children, to serve those who cannot help us in any way to meet our own selfish desires, then we will have found the path to true greatness, because it is in those moments, with those people, that we often find ourselves standing in the presence of God.
[This sermon was delivered at St. Alban’s Episcopal Church in Wickenburg, AZ on September 22, 2024.]Mike was called to be the Vicar of St. Alban’s Episcopal Church in Wickenburg, AZ, and started this call on February 1, 2024. Before taking a call as clergy, Mike worked in IT for almost 25 years, variously working as a back- and front-end web developer, database developer and manager, and as a business analyst. If he’s not engaged in the work of the church, you can find him on a motorcycle, enjoying the ride, or training for an upcoming BikeMS ride.
Mike holds a Bachelor of Arts in Classical History from Seattle Pacific University, and a Masters of Divinity from Fuller Theological Seminary. He attended Sewanee School of Theology for a year of Anglican Studies in the Fall of 2022, and graduated in May of 2023. Mike was ordained as a Transitional Deacon in the Episcopal Diocese of Arizona on January 20th, 2024, and was ordained to the priesthood on July 27, 2024.