“Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” Mark 10:15
Sitting on the front row, I was scanning my notes in preparation for the keynote address at a large church’s annual family conference on the West Coast. This wasn’t the first time I had given this talk, but a flock of butterflies were having their way in my stomach.
The order of service was proceeding on schedule. The congregation was singing full voice. Everybody seemed relaxed, enjoying the worship—everyone, that is, except me. The front of the church, between the first row of seats and the platform, was swarming with kids. A few were sitting on the floor, dutifully singing along with the grown-ups. But most were tussling with their friends or trying their new tumbling routines. Giggles and squeals were audible above the chorus of singing attendees.
Those kids had better not be here when I give my talk, I thought. Of course, my countenance did not betray me. Anyone watching would have thought I was delighted with this noisy collection of restless crumb crunchers. But I was ticked off.
Who would have made such an outrageous arrangement? I wondered, still looking piously engaged by the lovely worship music. I won’t give my talk with those noisy kids crawling around in front of me.
The pastor strode to the microphone to introduce me. He announced that all the children were to leave now and go to their “special service.” Whew, I sighed, almost audibly. The following morning, I picked up my Bible and read the verses you read today. I was ashamed. “What would Jesus have done last night?” I whispered out loud, already knowing the answer to my question.
My life is way too formal, too traditional, too much heavy starch. I loathe disorder and disruptions. Give me decorum, order, hands folded on the desks, and “inside” not “playground” voice levels from children.
But Jesus lived at the opposite end of this Germanic obsession of mine. He not only tolerated the children; He welcomed them. He not only welcomed them; He threw His disciples a fastball, a quarter of an inch from their—and my—pompous, pointed chins. “Whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it” (v. 15), the Master fired at His pontifical followers. Ugh.
Your life is filled with formality and structure. Mine, too. Our smartphones include detailed calendars, contacts, memos, documents, and endless lists of things to do. We like having agendas and itineraries. We don’t allow raucous activity in our homes and demand that our children keep their living spaces orderly.
Unfortunately, given Jesus’s relentless criticism of the uptight disciples and law-abiding Pharisees who hung around the edges of His troupe, we are not in good company.
There is, of course, a time for demeanor and manners, for discipline and order. But sometimes we need to set aside our penchant for structure and throw caution to the wind. Besides, Jesus didn’t simply think that this was a good idea; He told His followers that if they didn’t loosen up, they’d miss out on knowing Him. Ouch.
Go ahead. Take a deep breath; live it up. Come joyfully to your Savior with childlike faith, with unashamed excitement, and with eagerness. But please don’t do it during my keynote address. I’ve worked hard on this talk. Thank you.