Jesus knew it was a trap as soon as the words came out of their mouths, "What do you think, rabbi, is it lawful...?" It was a trap because all such questions provoke us into choosing sides, separating people into winners and losers. Jesus knew that it was pretty easy to hurt vulnerable people and clobber them over the head to gain the upper hand. Yet clubbing someone never promotes healing or deeper understanding; it only causes more bruises.
Two thousand years ago, as well as now, people struggled with the ramifications of brokenness and separation in relationships. We are, by nature, social creatures. Whatever the procedures a particular society has to acknowledge a formal separation, does not change God's intent to create and promote companionship. Marriage is one way to facilitate this for God intended it to be a true partnership, not a power play; to be a way of mutual support not an excuse to enslave or exploit.
In today's Gospel according to Mark, one wonders if Mark himself was worried that as the disciples further pressed Jesus on questions about divorce that they had fallen into a subtle “is it lawful trap” and had ignored what Jesus had said about God’s intent. Mark may well have been aware of the danger of later generations of Christians falling into the "is it lawful" trap, too.
Jesus responded as sharply as when the disciples had argued over who was the greatest among them. Jesus abruptly cut off further discussion and for a second time, sought to hold and bless young children. The Gospel describes Jesus as not being merely annoyed, but actually angry. Much more was involved than the disciples shooing away children from his presence. Jesus’ anger was likely directed towards those, then and now, who would be tempted to forge Jesus words into a spiritual hotel of procrustean beds. Jesus didn’t take time to bless children because he wanted to appear cute and deliver a so-called kiddie sermon but because he wanted to emphasize God’s primary purpose of the Gospel was to bring into partnership those who are alone and separated, to heal those who are hurt and wounded, and form a larger and caring family out of those who had been alienated or left out.
While the disciples were debating over how to apply this law or that law, Jesus took a child into his arms, as if to say, “If you think the purpose of the Gospel is to give justification to building walls or sewing straightjackets, you will have no time for children.” We can almost hear the disciples explode in frustration, “ Infants and young children! Babies can't lead or organize and young children are incapable of providing consistent support of any kind. How can they help us? Why bother with them? All babies can do is trust in the goodness of their caregivers, just as you, Jesus, ask people to trust in the goodness of God’s mercy.” “Hello!” exclaimed, Jesus. “Do you understand what you just said?”
In lifting up and holding children, runny noses, dirty hands, germs, and all, Jesus became a lasting sign welcoming those at life’s lonely crossroads who have made a mess of their relationships, those for whose life has not been a tale of happily ever after, whose lives haven’t worked out as they would have wished; welcoming those who have not received tenure or have been laid off from their job after thirty years. The good news of the Gospel is that our hardness of heart and failures, life’s freak tragedies and unexpected heartbreaks, like children’s dirty faces, do not disqualify us from God’s love and companionship.
It’s too bad that when the disciples, rabbis, and crowd heatedly got to arguing and trying to score points over one another, Jesus could not have taken the disciples over to Mary and Martha’s house for some fresh buttered popcorn, cold Moxie, and to watch Robin Williams star in the movie Mrs. Doubtfire. If you haven’t seen it, rent it! Mrs. Doubtfire is not a Jesus figure by any means, but I believe that Jesus would have really liked her (or him!). Yes, it’s too bad that the disciples of that time never knew of Robin Williams in one of his best roles, for certainly at the end of the movie, Mrs. Doubtfire had a far better grasp of the Gospel of God’s grace and the understanding of the pain of separation than the disciples. If I were to design a stained glass window about this Gospel, I wouldn’t stop with Jesus holding several small children and scowling at the disciples. I’d have Robin Williams as Mrs. Doubtfire in there, too, peering from behind a doorway.
And I offer this to you in the name of the Living God, Amen.
