“You must be as a little child to enter the kingdom of God.” (Mark 10:15) We’ve all heard this before. In seminary they explained it away by telling us Jesus wasn’t talking about the purity of children (since none of our children are absolutely pure), but rather about their lowly station in society. They told us that Jesus was talking about poverty and need rather than innocence and purity.

Maybe so, but I don’t think so. It is easy to see that Jesus calls for justice for these little ones. Certainly they should have enough to eat and a place to live, and in our times, a decent education and health care and hope for the future.

But Jesus does more than simply speak justice on their behalf. This itinerant rabbi who wanders the countryside healing the sick and proclaiming that the kingdom of God is at hand, imminent, within us, takes these children in his arms, blesses them and proclaims that we must learn to be open to receive the realm of God in the same way that they are open, if we ever hope to see it.

This is hard. Scholars always suggest that the more difficult reading is to be preferred. It is easy to stand for justice for children while maintaining our ever-so-grown-up self perception as competent adults. It is hard to maintain the wide-eyed innocence of a child in the face of a world too full of tragedy and despair. It seems absolutely ridiculous to do so.

But if we are not vulnerable and open and awe-filled and surprised by the wonder and beauty of simply being alive, if we cannot receive the gifts constantly being poured into our lives by our loving creator, then we simply cannot enter the kingdom of God.

Today this reading hits home with a vengeance. Children in Samoa, and Indonesia and Malaysia, and the Philippines are suffering and dying because of so many natural disasters. We want to distract ourselves from these terrible tragedies happening on the other side of the world by keeping extra busy or tuning them out or focusing more obsessively on our own personal problems. It’s natural. These are hard times in which to own a television.

But the question arises: What would Jesus do?

Would he quickly write a check and get back to the business at hand?
Would he rush to coordinate aid and relief efforts?
Would he send healing prayers and gather people to pray for those who need strength and comfort in the midst of chaos?

Yes. And still…He reminds us to gather the children in our midst, to learn from them, to allow their vulnerable honesty to inspire us and encourage us. We need to stay open to receive the miracle of the constant in-pouring of God’s Spirit if we are to find the strength and the courage to pour out our lives in service to others.

It is as essential as breathing.

We must receive the Holy Presence of the Divine the way children received Jesus. They weren’t so sure of answers that they couldn’t experience the joy, the mystery, the magic of the presence of the Holy in this amazing man. They just wanted to be close to him.

That’s the simplicity and purity of a child. They can read the Spirit better than anyone. If they like you when they see your heart, you know you’re doing something right.

Breathe in. Let the Spirit fill you, comfort you, empower you.

Then breathe out. From the center of your soul, you know what you are called to do. Don’t be hard on yourself if what is enough for you to do is dramatically different from the work your neighbor feels called to do. Keep breathing.

Keep listening for the still, small voice we listen for in the silence at the sound of the tingsai bells. Listen and trust that Spirit will give you the strength you need to do your part, whatever your part might be.

Then breathe again. The Spirit moves in dramatic ways in each of our lives and in community when we work together, and remember to breathe.

It is serious stuff, this living mindfully in the presence of the sacred, but not so serious that we can forget the essential simplicity of it all. We are Children of the Most High, every one of us is a little one in the eyes of our God. We need to remember to come before our God with the humility, the wide-eyed wonder of a child. Otherwise, we just aren’t open to receive and we not only miss the blessing, we become hardened in our grown-up power and self-importance.

Growing up, I thought that life could be divided into clear stages: First you were an infant, then a child, then a pre-teen, then a teen, then a young adult, then mature, middle aged, and finally old.

I was wrong. Every day is an opportunity for re-discovering the heart open innocence of a child and without it we are too old long before our bodies start to age. With it, we can be as old as the proverbial Methuselah (who lived the longest recorded life in the Hebrew Testament record) and still be young, still energized and inspired by the Spirit to live this day with a sense of wonder and meaning and purpose.

Watching my granddaughter play with her toys I am amazed to see how focused and determined a two year old can be to complete a task she has set herself. Of course, she can be an impassioned voice for justice, as she sees it, when she doesn’t get her way. She is two. She is learning to live in relation to others. She is open to the task.

May we remember to be open to the Spirit with every breath we take, so that the love and justice of our God can empower us to do the work of the church, here in our midst and in our wider world.

We must be as little children to receive the realm of God. It is in our midst. It lives within us. May we live out God’s call to love and justice this day and every day ahead.

Breathe. Be a kid. Have fun. Renew. Do the work…and while you work, remember to breathe, be a kid, have fun, renew…May it be so…

(Three of my animals planted themselves as close to me as they could while I wrote these words. They slept content just to be near me. Their unconditional love is such a gift. I am not alone. God is always with me. My animals remind me: I am blessed in a hundred million ways. May I remember… May we remember…)