Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost
Job 1.1, 2.1-10
Psalm 26
Hebrews 1.1-4, 2.5-12
Mark 10.2-16
©Suzanne Grimmett
Anyone who has raised children may have suffered through the toddler time where suddenly everything seems up for debate.
“Why?” asks the three year old…whether that be when asked to brush teeth or put on a jacket or simply as they observe you going about your normal tasks but want to know the reasons for everything.
One of the reasons for this is a whole-hearted desire to learn; to know about this wonderful world they are encountering, even when they do not have sufficient vocabulary to put together what it is exactly that they want to know. Little children lack the filters of whether it is appropriate to ask, whether it is the right time, or if there is a better way to get their needs met. “Why?” may be repetitive, but is nevertheless effective for a variety of purposes, including for receiving the attention they crave.
Little children also have an instinct to share what they know to help others. They seem to think that is automatically what you do. Someone shared a story this week on social media of a child wanting to assist him in an elevator.
“You have to press the button,” the child said, “and you have to make it light up or it won’t work.”
Sometimes I think the many anxieties and self-concerns of adults get in the way of us sharing and helping from what we have and what we know.
What a child desires is also in full view, all the time. As adults we learn to mask, negate or water down our desires to be socially acceptable. Unfortunately, we also tend to pretend, hide and manipulate, driven by desires that are still there, but which we don’t allow ourselves to acknowledge and own.
Perhaps some of this is why Jesus tells us we need to receive the kingdom as a little child. When a child is hungry, you know about it. Have we forgotten that we can bring all our questions, aches, hurts and needs to God, acknowledging that everything we have is a gift anyway? When we come to the altar to receive Christ in a morsel of broken bread and a sip of wine poured out, the only prerequisite is that we remember our need- we know that we are hungry, we are thirsty.
We hear the disciples in today’s Gospel reading sounding the epitome of responsible adults, sternly telling these parents with their annoying young children to go away because they shouldn’t be bothering important rabbi Jesus.
We then learn of the indignation of Jesus at the disciples’ actions: the Greek word used here and translated “indignant” conjures a sense of being angry about something that is unfair. In this we might find a link to the earlier part of today’s Gospel reading on marriage and divorce. The hard-heartedness that leads human beings to disrespect or simply discard one another, cutting them off from relationship, dignity and the basic needs of life, is at the heart of what Jesus is speaking against in his teaching about divorce. The disciples clearly have not received the message about treating others unfairly and robbing human beings of what they need to survive and thrive when they drive away the children from Jesus’ side. I commend to you the reflection the Rev’d Canon Dr Marian Free wrote for the parish email expanding further on the questioning of Jesus about divorce. (There are some hard copies available at the entrance of the church for you to take if you don’t receive the email).
It seems today that we are beset by readings that have the power to cause distress if not properly understood, or else would have the effect of sending many home scratching their heads, wondering what it was all about, if there is no commentary attempted. The reading from Job is likely in that latter category. Given that we will continue to follow this fascinating story across the next few Sundays, I felt it was important not to leave it hanging there in the air- this fantastical conversation between the Lord, Satan and other assorted heavenly beings.
The first thing to note is that it is a fantastical story. It begins, “There was once a man in the land of Uz whose name was Job.” The phrasing in Hebrew is the same as when the prophet Nathan begins his parable to David about the man who had one beloved ewe lamb. In that instance, where David has done great harm and does not see it, we all know Nathan is telling a made-up story to build empathy and understanding. The Book of Job can be approached in the same way- but what kind of empathy is it inviting? The suffering that will befall the good man, Job, as the story progresses will leave us with so many unanswered ‘whys’.
It may be important to remember here, that while culturally we tend to think in terms of individuals, we are free to imagine that this man, Job, is a stand in for the suffering of a group- for the children of Israel at that time and later. In reading in this way, we might also consider how this text might be read by other groups of people suffering around the world who have done nothing to bring this suffering upon themselves. As we look around the world and see the most vulnerable in any society, including children, suffering the most in times of war, terror and violence, we can imagine how such a text might be heard this weekend. How would Palestinian communities, or families fleeing in Lebanon or children starving in Sudan for example, experience a text which explores the theology of unjust suffering? The text will provide no justification, but it does allow the naming of the wrong and the voicing of humanity’s deepest questions.
We are invited in this mythic tale set in the land of Uz to step out of our own experience and recognise that we don’t have all the answers. Indeed, our instinct in the face of terrible suffering to provide a pious reason why, or, perhaps worse, offer the platitude that “everything happens for a reason”, can leave people feeling distressed, alone and sometimes unjustly judged for their situation and pain. Often, we then retreat behind a mask of stoical endurance, thereby robbing ourselves further of the gift of companionship and community.
Children, of course, generally persist in making their needs known. Perhaps when we are besieged by unanswerable questions and despairing at the injustice of the world this is the very time, child-like, to object. Although there may be no easy answers, we are invited to bring our honest hunger and pain to the God who suffers with us and who is big enough to handle our most outraged questions.
The promise of an incarnational faith is that we are not alone- not abandoned by God, but also not left without genuine human companionship. As people of faith, one of the most fundamental understandings is that everything we have is gift, and we are to build up the body of Christ by sharing from who we are and the resources we have been given. Perhaps being reminded of that toddler in the elevator might inspire us with the same confidence to offer what we have and what we know. Toddlers also can remind us that bringing all our ‘whys’ to the family is part of sharing our lives.
As we love and care for one another in this community of faith, we are enabled by the Spirit to create community strong enough to hold the “whys.” We can tend the bonds of relationship so that when the curious, “Why God?” changes to a gut-wrenching, outraged, sobbing and despairing, “Why, God?”, we can offer one another not answers, but strength for the journey and the promise of a love that endures.
We all have a part to play in this, and the prayer of the Examen which I shared in the parish email as a practice to explore this stewardship month might help us to discern in prayer, individually and corporately, the ways that will strengthen such relationships with God and community. (there are hard copies available at the entrance to the church)
A final word on the “whys”. Some child educators suggest the best response to a toddler’s ‘why’ is to ask, “Why do you think?”
As a community, we might turn to one another more often with our ‘whys’. As we continue to live the questions together, held by the certainty of the relentless loving-kindness and mercy of God, we can share this same love with one another as we seek to live out God’s dream for the world.
+Amen.