The Center of Attention
Pr. Craig Mueller
The Center of Attention
Show of hands. How many of you have ever heard a so-called children’s sermon? The pastor calls up the kids. They become the center of attention. Well, actually an object in a brown bag is used to get the kid’s attention. An object lesson. Take today’s gospel about greatness. I might pull out things that show how we impress people. A wad of money. Cool sunglasses. The newest iPhone. Eventually the pastor asks a question about the Bible story. The kids are onto it by then. Just answer Jesus, whatever the question.
Ironic that I’m talking about children’s sermons when we don’t do them here. Early on Pr. Sevig and I decided we would involve children in the liturgy instead. Receiving communion. Gathering around the font at baptism. Carrying stars on a stick at Epiphany and palms on Palm Sunday. Burying the alleluia before Lent. Serving as torchbearers.
Since the pandemic we don’t see many of the 100+ plus babies and kids in our congregation. Back in 2002 we only had two kids! It’s a huge loss. Their presence is a center of our attention, a gift when so many churches are dying! And we long for the day when our pews again reflect the age diversity of Holy Trinity. No wonder every baptism is hope for our future!
Back to children’s sermons. Some adults admit they like the short peppy children’s sermon more than the long, boring adult sermon! Maybe that’s why our former bishop, Wayne Miller, began most of his sermons with an object he would pull out of a brown bag! It was the center of attention. And it certainly got our attention! When he preached on ephphatha (which means “be opened”) he had things hard to open like pickle jars, child-proof medicine bottles, and shrink-wrapped CD’s—remember those? When he preached on the dry bones in Ezekiel, he had a chicken boiled so much that the skeleton fell apart. When he talked about shaking up the Spirit within us, he shook a can of pop. Like this. Oh, how I would like to pop it open and have fun, letting it spray everywhere!
Jesus has an object lesson in today’s gospel. It’s not a sermon for children. It’s like there was a kid is in the brown bag! He sets a child in the middle of the disciples to make a point about true greatness and being a servant.
Just before that they had been squabbling about who was the greatest. Who was the center of attention. Who was the star disciple. Who was Jesus’ favorite. The over achievers crave the five-star reviews on a greatestdisciple.jc.
In Mark’s gospel the disciples are a bit dense, let’s say. They just don’t seem to get it. Jesus has told them the somber news that suffering and death await him. But when they think of a Messiah, they imagine everyone wearing caps that say: MIGA. Make Israel Great Again! They been conditioned to think that the Messiah would come with military might and be an aggressive, strong ruler. And kick butt—of the Romans, at least! But the ways of Jesus could not be further from their expectations. Humility. Service. Death on a cross? Really?
We’re certainly led to believe that winning is everything. Being the best. The cutest. The richest. The greatest! If only the Bible gave support for MIGA or MAGA. Sorry. Jesus comes along. If you want to be first, you must be last and servant of all. Who wants to be last and least? Aren’t they the losers? Aren’t they the wimps?
It’s about the kind of people you welcome, Jesus says. James adds, let your good life show what kind of person you are. Are you consumed with selfish ambition, with cravings, with conflicts, with envy and boasting? Or do you seek a deeper wisdom, being at peace within yourself?
Jesus uses a child as an object lesson. Whoever welcomes a child welcomes me, Jesus says. That’s easy. We love children. Babies and young children become the center of our attention. They are cute and adorable. Until, of course, they become sassy and selfish and eventuall teen-agers. But remember: in Jesus’ day children were more prone to be discarded, than spoiled.
Holy Trinity is proud of its welcome statement. Because Christ welcomes us, we welcome one another, whatever our religious or spiritual background, or how we feel about organized religion. Whatever the color of our skin, who we love or marry, our gender identity, whether we like to be the center of attention or we turn red when someone calls on us at a party or in a class! Whether we are up in years, or an infant, a child, or a teen-ager!
In baptism we welcome both children and adults. A sign of God’s unconditional welcome. This welcome, signified by water, oil, a candle, and of course, you the parents, sponsors, and assembly, is very moving.
But it’s radical, too. We are initiating our children into a counter-cultural way of life. We are committing ourselves anew to a different kind of greatness. One that finds its purpose in serving others. One that sees the face of God in those the world excludes. One that acknowledges that life is full of heartache, loss, and suffering. One that stands with others in their pain or questions or grief.
Dear church, let welcome be your song! Welcome the child within you. Let yourselves be curious. Be open to play and mystery. Be open to people and places and experiences that stretch your minds and hearts. Though we think of ourselves as the center of the world, dip your hands in the water at the font, receive the bread and wine, and then turn your eyes on others in need. Or estranged. Or living with hunger. Or facing discrimination because of race or religion. Or fearful because of who they are or who they love, to quote our next hymn. May they become the center of our attention.
People of God, may the waters of baptism and the grace of God shake you up this day. Give some fizz to your faith. Fervor to your living. Passion to your serving.
As we will sing in a moment: Oh, may our hearts and minds be opened. Fling the church doors open wide. May there be room for everyone inside. For in God there is a welcome. May that welcome be our song. And the center of our attention.