People were bringing little children to him in order that he might touch them; and the disciples spoke sternly to them. But when Jesus saw this, he was indignant and said to them, ‘Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs. Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it.’ And he took them up in his arms, laid his hands on them, and blessed them. Mark (10:13-16)
One of the special things about being a parent is that - for a tiny little person we brought into this world - we are their universe. These delicate, tiny, fragile beings are completely dependent upon us for food, warmth, love, safety. They just have to cry out and we tend to their every need. Because we understand all their needs.
Well, maybe it doesn’t start out quite so efficiently. At the start their cry is more of a reflex than a sure reliance on us. Maybe our first responses a bit disorganised as we learn the language of the newborn cry. However, in a very short while parent and child are bonded together, in their reliance and our love. Then in no time at all they are starting to see us better and recognise us from others as their parents. Pretty soon they will be toddling around, talking, swimming … learning to ride bikes.
As they grow our children cling to us when they are frightened and it is our reassurances which encourage them to try again. It’s our arms they assume will catch them when they fall.
Have you taught a child to ride a bicycle?
Holding the back of the bike you end up running alongside, just a little behind, as they are riding.
They are riding, they have got it, and they are calling out “are you holding on?” And you keep saying “yes I am” – when actually you’re not - because they have got it.
But that reassurance from you, the thought that you are there, is the only thing that keeps them going until you can’t keep up any more and they ride away from you.
That faith, innocent faith, a child has in their parent – that holds them up on the bike - that innocence which sees only wonder and joy in the world, that as parents we wish they could hold on to forever - is the way we need to approach God in our faith. This is what Jesus meant when he said, “whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it”.
Of course, it is love that makes us want to be there for our children, that love which just can't be described - except perhaps as an 'ache'. That is the same as God's love for us.
A child's baptism is always a joyous occasion. Extended family and friends coming together in celebration, sharing cake and gifts. It is a bit like a Christmas celebration, and like Christmas at a deeper faith level as well.
In the birth of Jesus, God was united with humans.
In baptism, we humans become united with God through Jesus.
In baptism we are claimed by God as closely as we claim our own children.
Offering our infant child to God through baptism is a step of faith. As adults, we are trusting that God is holding on to the bike.
Will our child grow in faith? Will they ever return to the font? Will God save them from times of trial? How will God use them?
As life unfolds, and our child is not such a little person, they will walk through some dark places, and experience failures and disappointments. As parents our hearts ache in advance knowing that our children will fall off that bike sometimes, and experience all the pains of adult life in the future.
In faith, all we can do is offer our child a gift, one that we have all received - that at any time they (and we) are able to return to their baptism‚ to be made clean and new as a 'newborn' in that nourishing stream of water.
That is the promise of baptism. That we are never left to our own skills, our own ideas of faith, or our own understanding of what it means to be a Christian. We are loved and sealed with the mark of Christ forever‚ sealed with the promise of faith‚ the promise of grace‚ and the promise of hope.
All that ‘adult’ baggage we learn as we grow - brokenness, doubts, questions, worries - all of that loses its sting‚ because we behold the Cross and we know what follows Easter.
Jesus holding on to us and never letting go!
Amen