Suffer the little children?

Jesus said, “Suffer the little children to come to me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.” Mark 10:14

Footprints in time. Complete footprints showing heel, foot-arch and toes. Left behind by five people — adults and children — who walked over the soft mud where the River Thames meets the sea, on some lost day perhaps 900,000 years ago. Sealed beneath a cliff of compacted muds and silts, the long-lost level surface was returned to daylight by eroding waves. Archaeologists believe they were foraging for food — seaweed, crabs, shellfish and the like. Nothing remains of the footprints now. So ephemeral were they — just prints in mud — that successive ocean tides, in the days following their discovery, washed away. In our minds eye we can see them — the children — skipping along the water’s edge, their arms spread wide as if in flight, mimicking the seabirds, laughter tinkling on the breeze. Unabashed curiosity informed by innocence— curly-dimpled imps— the embodiment of the supernatural. The ancients believed childish prattle during play a gift of divination, presages of future events. On a day much closer to us than to them, by the edge of a river, Jesus welcomed children into his arms and tenderly blessed them (Mark 10:13-16).

Context:  What did the original audience know and understand?

The beginning of the human story is always out of reach, passed down from generation to generation in the form of myths. The earliest human life of hunter-gatherers was rootless and relentless, “red in tooth and claw.” Lifespans were short, perhaps little more than 20 years. Early families, always on the move, may have limited their numbers, winnowing their own. A mother and father could carry just one toddler apiece as they kept up with the tribe. Until the younger children were perhaps four or five years old and able to trot alongside the rest, any other babies would have had their lives snuffed out. It was the settled life of farming domesticated plants and animals that eventually allowed mothers to keep their babies. Even so, there was scant time to consider the mysterious inner workings of childhood, because maturity was everything. More children meant more laborers, more land cleared, more fields worked, more food. To that end, the welfare of children seems to be at the heart of social structure. Marriage was introduced not to sanction sexual relations or to establish a framework for monogamy, but rather to provide for the production and maintenance of children. This pattern is repeated in every successful society. Seven-thousand years ago a shrine was built in Jericho, containing three large figures— a man, woman, and child— the sacred family trinity that recurs universally in religion and folklore throughout world history.

In ancient Greece and Rome, children were considered non-persons. Literature from the classical world describes them in tones of contempt, using adjectives like weak, fearful, and irrational. This demeaning of children had concrete consequences.  Abortion was widespread. Unwanted children, particularly female, were abandoned or exposed, left outside to die of hunger or to be devoured by wild animals. Children were treated roughly; it was considered normal to beat them. This negative view of children also contributed to a low view of women. The very fact that women were more involved in childrearing and more likely to develop emotional attachments to children was a sign of weakness and vulgarity on their part. In summation, children were a father’s property, just material objects. He had the legal right to kill his children for any reason without fear of legal consequences. This is the culture in which Jesus shocked his contemporaries by treating children not as contemptible but as valuable.

Near the edge of the Jordan River Jesus is deep in conversation with the crowd that surrounds him. Topics range from “Who is the greatest?” to “Can a man divorce his wife?” At the edge of the group children scuttle along the riverbank, their bare feet churning in the dust, voices raised in merriment. Appalled by the demeaning presence of children the disciples rebuke their mothers. In response Jesus rebukes the disciples declaring, “Do not hinder them; let them come to me. For the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.” He welcomes the children, taking them into his arms blessing them. Perhaps in that moment the disciples edge closer to observe the little ones, so fresh from God, embraced by the Son of God. What was it like to lean against his knee, touched by his unscarred hands, listening to the tender lilt of his voice? How their mothers must have lingered, drinking in the moments of wee whispers and gentle smiles. Maybe they were present another time when Jesus said, “See that you do not look down on one of these little ones. For I tell you that their angels in heaven always see the face of my Father in heaven” (Matthew 18:10). Eventually the mothers and children wend their way home, an eternal treasure tucked away in their hearts.

Historical Progression: In subsequent centuries church fathers wrote extensively on Jesus’ words, puzzling over what they meant in a culture where a high view of children was a novelty. Consequentially, the early church saw children as complete and valuable human beings. In contrast to wealthy Romans who often turned the care of their children over to servants and nurses, the church urged parents to raise their own children. In the fourth century, John Chrysostom wrote, “Let everything take second place to care for our children, our bringing them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord.” As Christians gained political influence in the Roman empire, they succeeded in getting laws passed outlawing infanticide (AD 374). They also passed laws granting government aid to poor families who did not have the means to raise their children, so they would not be tempted to abandon or expose them. Yet the custom of exposure was not ended just by passing laws. It continued to be practiced until the clergy finally persuaded parents to give up their babies at the door of the church instead, which gave rise to the first orphanages. In time Christianity invented a novel concept of childhood, a new mindset that regarded children as persons to be valued, cherished and cared for. Post-Enlightenment convictions, grounded in biblical ideas of equality and autonomy, ushered in the abolition of slavery, child labor laws, and equal rights for women. A century later, the western world ostensibly founded on the truths of Jesus Christ, lost sight of the value of children. The tell-tale signs are everywhere: child trafficking, pornography and pedophilia, abortion and low birth rates, child mutilation in transgenderism, and endless wars that predominantly destroy children and their families. It’s a familiar pattern; non-persons are expendable. “There can be no keener revelation of a society’s soul than the way in which it treats its children” (Nelson Mandela). God’s children are not for sale. For every atrocity he promises vengeance. “If anyone causes one of these little ones…to stumble, it would be better for them to have a large millstone hung around their neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea (Matthew 18:6). Long ago God gave humanity a clear choice: “Today I set before you life and death, blessing and curse. Therefore choose life, that you and your children may live“(Deuteronomy 30:19).

Conclusion: We are without excuse. Every child we encounter is a divine appointment (Wess Stafford). They are the beauty of God in the world, trailing streams of glory from a place we no longer remember because we’ve grown old. We should be enchanted by them. After all children are the miracle by which we take hold of heaven. They are the living message we send to a world we will never know—a future as distant, perhaps, as the past. What message are we sending? Blessed by Jesus, these little ones belong to, and are ambassadors of, the kingdom of heaven. Footprints that linger in our hearts and eventually fade into eternity.

Sources: The Story of the British Isles, Neil Oliver; Children Through the Ages, Barbara Kaye Greenleaf; Love Thy Body, Nancy R Pearcey