It's a tradition in the Mennonite Church to have a special "Children's Sunday" once a year.  That's today, and as you've probably noticed we've had children of all ages leading us worship today.  By the way, lest any of the older participants take offense, I count myself as one of those children—a 30 year old child.

But have you ever thought about why we devote an entire Sunday to children?  Well, it's not because they put so much in the collection plate.  And it's not because they have a lot of influence at church business meetings.  And it's not because of their vast knowledge of the Bible.  And it's not because of their great acts of righteousness and piety.

If these were our only standards of judging, we, like the disciples in Mark 10:13, would have to conclude that children just weren't very important.  They were shooing the children away, but Jesus set them straight.  Children are important, for to such belongs the Kingdom of God.  (Slam the Bible shut)

Now if I were out in the congregation, this is about the point in the sermon where I would check out.  Hey, I learned this passage when I was four.  I'm an adult, I know this stuff.  Do I really need to hear a sermon on it?

That, unfortunately, is a fairly adult response.  So I invite you to come to Mark 10:13-16 with childlike eyes.  Let it speak to you in new and fresh ways.

Let's back up and get the big picture.  In Chapter 10, vs. 1, we find Jesus on his way from Galilee to Jerusalem with his disciples.  He's healing and teaching about the Kingdom as he goes, and by the time we get to vs. 13-14 he's surrounded by little  children.  But if we ignore verses 2-12, we'll miss the point of the entire story.  What was Jesus doing before the little children came along?  Back up in vs. 2 we read that  he was with the Pharisees, the learned exponents of the law, the know-it-alls.

The Pharisees... and then the children.  The comparison is unavoidable, and deliberate on Mark's part.  In verse 2, Mark tel1s us what are the Pharisees up to. (read it)   The divorce issue was a hot one back then, a sort of litmus test, like prayer in the public schools or abortion is now.  And the Pharisees are trying to get some ammunition to discredit Jesus.  And what are the  children up to?  They're there to be blessed, to sit on Jesus lap and enjoy his company.  It shouldn't surprise us that Jesus says it's the children who are of the Kingdom.

So, we have the Pharisees and the children -- and it's the children who are of the kingdom.  But Jesus is rather vague on this point of just why the children are in and the pharisees aren't.  It's no secret that little children can be mean, naughty, and selfish just like adults.  But Jesus is not focused on good behavior, rather he is talking about a quality of teachability.    Jesus has been going from town to town teaching about the kingdom, and in Mark 10 we have an illustration of who's likely to learn and who's not.

The Pharisees are learned ...past tense.  They are there to test Jesus; they know the answers.  Their hearts are hardened; they have ears but don't hear and eyes but don't see.

The children, on the other hand, are learners.  They are there to be blessed.  Their attitude and way of learning, their way of receiving the kingdom, is right.  And so in vs. 14, Jesus says "Let them come to me, for to such belongs the Kingdom of God."  I'm sure this statement alone must have startled the disciples.  Time and again they had demonstrated that they were still firmly in the Jewish mould.  They were likely thinking that they needed to know the right stuff and do the right things to get in the kingdom.  But then Jesus delivers the clincher.  "Whoever does not receive the Kingdom like a child will not enter it."
This is the crux of the entire passage.  What does it mean to receive the kingdom like a child.  I've identified four traits of young children that I believe we as adults had better take seriously if we hope to receive the kingdom like a child, and not like a Pharisee.
First, children eager learners.  They are fascinated by their surroundings and are naturally curious.  When they can walk they're into everything, and when they can talk they ask lots of questions.  Lots.  In short they are eager students of God's creation.  What a contrast to the Pharisees.  Jesus represented something new and different, but they couldn't see it.  They weren't curious or eager.  They simply felt threatened.  All their energy went into to refuting the new truth, rather than exploring it.
Are we curious, eager learners?  Or are we still rushing around trying to prove the world is flat.

Second, children are unselfconscious learners.  And they are generally quite humble about their accomplishments.  For example, Back in Lancaster I had a good little violin student named Ruth.  Even though she was just a third grader, she practiced a lot, not because someone paid her or cracked a whip over her, but because she loved to do it.   As adults, we often have ulterior motives for learning—prestige, money, respect.  I'm keenly aware of that since last week I started a new job.  It feels important to appear competent and knowledgeable because I imagine that everyone has their measuring sticks out.  We adults want to know pretty well where we stand, and just how our gifts stack up.  Like the Pharisees, we are always subject to making a show of our learning, our giving, or our piety.

Third, children are uninhibited learners.  We could probably spend the rest of the morning telling outrageous stories about uninhibited children.  As a teacher I saw this trait all the time.  Young children aren't afraid to try new things.  Adults and particularly Mennonite adults tend to have more than a healthy dose of inhibition.  While our inhibitions may keep us from doing something indiscreet, they are also a great obstacle to learning or doing anything new.  In his book, Celebration of Discipline, one of Richard Foster's  recurring statements is "don't be afraid to be a beginner."  In other words, don't be inhibited.  Every new venture requires that we become a beginner again, and some areas, like spirituality, we are in many respects always beginners.  Like a toddler, we must be willing to fall down, get back up and keep going.

The final trait of children I'd like to bring out is that they are observant.  They don't always observe the things you wish they would.  They notice your latest gray hairs and uncle George's pot belly; they mimic your mannerisms and if you say something naughty, it's sure to come back to haunt you.  To give a for instance, a friend of a friend developed a taste for beer.  Knowing that his parents disapproved of drinking and that he had an impressionable young son, he tried to keep his beer-drinking a secret, and the six-pack was stowed away a dark corner of the fridge.  One day at a family get together, everyone was gathered around the TV.  A Budweiser commercial comes on and the little four year old pipes up, "That's daddy's brand!"   Children are watching you.  In fact they learn more by what you do than from what you say.   Adults somehow lose the ability to learn by observing.  In fact, we are so bad at it, that I'll venture to say that's a major reason God gave us a written record of his work.  That's about the only way we learn sometimes.

When John's disciples came to Jesus and asked if he was the Messiah, Jesus answered, "Go back and report what you hear and see:  The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cured, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is preached to the poor".   In other words, be observant and you'll know who I am.  It sounds easy, but the Pharisees couldn't do it.  The Son of God was right under their noses and they couldn't see him.  But are we any better?  Are we able to see God at work around us?  Or are things that happen to us just lucky breaks, pure chance, or savvy planning on our part?  When confronted with the Kingdom will we receive it like children or like Pharisees?

Ultimately that is the question Jesus leaves us with.  And it is a challenge to us, because we are a pretty "Adult" bunch of people.  Even my Jr. High Sunday School class gets a little adult on me at times.  But just imagine what an outbreak of childlikeness could do for this place—eager, enthusiastic Christians, open to new ideas and new possibilities, able to see God at work, and working unselfconciously and joyfully at the tasks God sets before them.

In my more adult moments, I think," no, that couldn't happen here."  But just when I'm almost certain that I'm right, something happens, like the African youth discovery team comes to town and we dance up the aisles with our offering, and sway and clap and praise God.   A small in-breaking of childlikeness.  Times like that remind me that with a little effort, and a lot of grace, we  can  receive the Kingdom like a child.  With God, all things are possible.