Many of us think of Jesus as mostly loving and patient, even when his Apostles exasperate him. Yet In today’s gospel, he seems to be clearly irritated and annoyed. He has probably been speaking to the crowd and now is mobbed by children -- and parents who want Jesus to bless their children. The disciples don’t want Jesus “bothered,” and tell the parents to leave Jesus alone.
Once again, his disciples have missed the point of his teachings. The children are exactly who Jesus wants to be with at that moment. They represent the innocent and vulnerable of his teachings. He continuously asks us to protect those who are fragile.
Not only are we called on to help and care for them but to become like them. Children are helpless, and rely on us to feed, love and protect them. They believe that we will do that – and it mirrors the trust Jesus wants us to have in God. As adults we have learned to be self-protective and not to trust so willingly. But the kind of radical trust in God that Jesus tells us we need to enter the Kingdom of God can only come from our hearts, not our heads.
And in the same way he calls us to love and protect children, Jesus asks us repeatedly to care for the vulnerable, the poor, the marginalized and the stranger. We can ask ourselves if our hearts are really open to those who are dependent on us – those who are like children?
It can be powerful to ask ourselves where we are not comfortable with this kind of hospitality? Do we see ourselves as brothers and sisters with the poor? Pope Francis says, “It means protecting people, showing loving concern for each and every person, especially children, the elderly, those in need, who are often the last we think about.”
Today might be the right time to look into our hearts and ask who our brothers and sisters are? Is Jesus inviting us to be more simple, less judgmental, and more merciful as we look at those we might hold at a distance from our own lives? Is Jesus inviting us to embrace the Kingdom this way?
Dear Jesus, Let me embrace your whole kingdom – not just the parts I am comfortable with. Take me and help me to be more like a trusting child. Calm my anger, my sophisticated arguments and the restless fears that take away my innocent dependence on you. Let me seek you first, so that I can more peacefully and simply love my spouse, my children, my relatives, other people in my life. I ask your help especially with those who annoy me. Soften my heart and help me to love them more. Help me to listen to people who hold views quite different from me, even those I don’t want to include in my world and help me remember they are also your beloved children.
Maureen McCann Waldron
The most important part of my life is my family – Jim my husband of 47 years and our two children. Our daughter Katy, a banker here in Omaha, and her husband John, have three wonderful children: Charlotte, Daniel and Elizabeth Grace. Our son Jack and his wife, Ellie, have added to our joy with their sons, Peter and Joseph.
I think family life is an incredible way to find God, even in (or maybe I should say, especially in) the most frustrating or mundane moments.
I am a native of the East Coast after graduating in 1971 from Archbishop John Carroll High School in suburban Philadelphia. I graduated from Creighton University in 1975 with a degree in Journalism and spent most of the next 20 years in corporate public relations in Omaha. I returned to Creighton in the 1990s and completed a master’s degree in Christian Spirituality in 1998.
As our children were growing up, my favorite times were always family dinners at home when the four of us would talk about our days. But now that our kids are gone from home, my husband and I have rediscovered how nice it is to have a quiet dinner together. I also have a special place in my heart for family vacations when the kids were little and four of us were away from home together. It’s a joy to be with my growing family.
Writing a Daily Reflection is always a graced moment, because only with God’s help could I ever write one. I know my own life is hectic, disjointed and imperfect and I know most of us have lives like that. I usually write from that point of view and I always seem to find some sentence, some word in the readings that speaks right to me, in all of my imperfection. I hope that whatever I write is in some way supportive of others.
It’s an incredibly humbling experience to hear from someone who was touched by something I wrote. Whether the note is from someone across campus or across the world, it makes me realize how connected we are all in our longing to grow closer to God.
