It never fails. As I ramp up to the big finish of my sermon, where my rhetoric starts to soar and the prose turns a little purple… As I deliver those final, finely crafted lines meant to wring maximum impact from every. single. word…
Then little children were being brought to [Jesus] in order that he might lay his hands on them and pray. The disciples spoke sternly to those who brought them; but Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of heaven belongs.” – Matthew 19:13-14 (NRSV)
Slam! A heavy hymnal slides off some coloring kiddo’s lap and slaps the stone floor of the sanctuary. Moment ruined.
Which is a good thing, Jesus says. He’s disputing the Pharisees. Working up to his own grand conclusion (about celibacy, no less), when…
Waaaah! Some parent drops their croupy kid in his lap, and the little one reacts like they’re getting a photo with the mall Easter bunny.
Jesus can’t remember what he was saying. And the disciples are furious. This is the Messiah, and they are hanging on every. single. word.
They try to get him back in the groove, but he shrugs them off. Not important. You want to know about heaven? Here it is. This child right in front of you.
Not grand pronouncements. Not soaring rhetoric. But Life interrupting whatever story we were telling. Whatever we thought was so important. Real life, breaking in.
You want to know about Easter? Here it is. Not lilies. Not trumpets. But Tuesday. The person right in front of you.
Whatever irritating thing they are doing to take you away from my very important…
Prayer
Living God, interrupt me.
About the Author
Vince Amlin is co-pastor of Bethany UCC, Chicago, and co-planter of Gilead Church Chicago, forming now.