Proper 20

Children with an IQ approaching that of an Albert Einstein or a Stephen Hawking are often known as “child prodigies,” or kids whose brains function on a level equal to or better than most adults. Paulius Zabotka, at the time a 14-year-old Brit, scored two points higher on an IQ test than either Einstein or Hawking — a brain-bending 162 on the scale, or the highest score possible for those under age 18. His mother, who clearly has a gift for understatement, said, “Everything he does, he seems to be so good at.”

History reveals a number of such child prodigies. Blaise Pascal, the 17th-century mathematician, wrote a treatise on vibrating bodies at age 9. Mozart and Beethoven were musical geniuses at early ages, and Pablo Picasso painted Picador when he was 8 years old. Bobby Fischer won eight straight national chess championships beginning at the age of 13 before famously beating Boris Spassky for the World Chess Championship in 1972.

Of course, some child prodigies became more infamous than famous, like Ted Kaczynski who was accepted into Harvard at the age of 16, but who later became known as the “Unabomber.”

The German word for these young geniuses is wunderkind (literally “wonder-child”), kids who are natural wonders. That would have been a curious designation in Jesus’ day, when children weren’t even really considered to be people until they reached the age of 13 and went through the rite of passage to adulthood. At that point, they were expected to function like adults, having survived their early years in an ancient culture with a high rate of childhood mortality. No child prodigy awards, and no scholarships for these kids.

Of course, we could argue that Jesus himself was a child prodigy, given Luke’s description of the 12-year-old Jesus dazzling the teachers in the temple (Luke 2:41-52). Perhaps that’s why Jesus seemed to be so fond of children, seeing in them the capacity for great things, despite their humble status.

It wasn’t their IQ, but, rather, their openness that Jesus valued.

Jesus’ adult disciples, on the other hand, are acting like a bunch of spoiled children with the IQ of a bag of hammers. In today’s Gospel, Jesus and the disciples are on the way back to Galilee from the mountain where Jesus was transfigured (vv. 2-13), and where the disciples had an argument with a man whose son was beset with an evil spirit (vv. 14-29).

Both incidents are opportunities for Jesus to take the disciples to school, and Mark’s narrative follows a similar pattern in each story: There is the incident, there is the public declaration, and then Jesus takes the disciples into a house or a private place to explain to these uncomprehending minds what is actually going on.

Moving on, they approached Capernaum on the north shore of the Sea of Galilee — the hometown of some of the disciples. And now, the disciples were arguing about which one of them was the greatest!

Now why would they be acting so childishly?

Children had no status in first-century Jewish culture, but status was all that the adults seemed to strive after. Social rank was very stratified, and it was hard to move from a lower rank to a higher one. The disciples seem to see their association with Jesus as a potential elevator, whereby their own social status shoots to a higher floor, as it were.

If he was truly the Messiah, Israel’s king, then those who were closest to him would most certainly rank high in his kingdom and, perhaps, even score a box seat near the throne in Jerusalem.

James and John will plainly ask for as much after Jesus’ third prediction of his death and resurrection, which reveals that they have no idea of the kind of kingdom Jesus is really talking about (10:35-45).

“What were you arguing about on the way?” Jesus asks them, but, like children who are caught doing something naughty, they kept silent (vv. 33-34). They were arguing about upward mobility, and yet Jesus reminds them that following him is completely an act of downward mobility. “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all,” he says to them.

The wunderkinder in Jesus’ kingdom aren’t the ones with the highest scores or the genius titles, but the ones who willingly take the place of the lowest class, and volunteer to serve everyone else. It’s not about the intelligence test so much as it is about the test of servanthood.

To illustrate the point, Jesus places a child among them. He gathers the child in his arms as if to reveal that this child, one of the many who ran around Capernaum getting underfoot, was the most important person in the world at that moment. This child was probably no Mensa kid. She was probably a child living in poverty at the lowest rung of the social ladder.

Yet, the poverty child is the prodigy child Jesus lifts up. She exemplifies the values of Jesus. “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me,” says Jesus, “and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me” (v. 37). Indeed, Jesus will soon reveal that those who are the most prodigious of his disciples are the ones who become just like a child — humble, open, willing to learn and willing to serve (10:13-16).

So, what can children teach us?

First, that children are not our personal avatars. We’re fascinated with wunderkinds, because, just like people in the ancient world, we’re still concerned about status. We’re so anxious for kids to grow up, act and produce like adults, that we go to great lengths to accelerate the process — largely because many of us act as though our kids are avatars for our own hopes and dreams. (Google “Teach infants to read,” and you’ll get many clips, including one that suggests using “Infant Stimulation Cards” to teach the baby to read.)

Oh how we wish that we lived in Garrison Keillor’s Lake Wobegon, where all the women are strong, all the men are good-looking and all the children are above average.

Second, children do not exist to validate us.The “hovercraft” or “helicopter” parent who argues with teachers in an attempt to turn an A- into an A is seeking perfection in the child and validation for herself. The parent who pushes the child to excel in sports (often on Sunday mornings) may be trying to work out his own unfulfilled fantasies of scholarships and professional contracts.

We value intelligence, physical ability, physical attractiveness and the ability to produce — all things that adults in our world strive for — and we lay those expectations on our children, hoping that they will achieve a status better than our own.

Third, children remind us that humility, vulnerability and weakness are okay.The Bible teaches us the importance of humility. Being honest about our vulnerability gives others an opportunity to assist us, and thus to fulfil their ministries. And weaknesses — we all have them — are also cracks through which the light of God can shine (see 2 Corinthians 12:9-10).

Jesus blessed the children; so should we. Jesus puts a child front and center and offers a profound vision: All children are people of sacred worth. If you welcome them, particularly the least of them, you are welcoming Jesus himself, and, if you welcome Jesus, then you are welcoming God. Until we first welcome children for simply being children of God, we’ll fail to see that every child is a wunderkind — genius or not.

We should worry less about the future – and be in the moment more often. The disciples are fretting about their role in the coming kingdom. They should be more like these children, Jesus said.

The last shall be first, and the first shall be last.

The greatest persons among us are the servants.

We are to be childlike, but not child-ish!

Remember the words of Dr. Seuss:

Today you are you That is truer than true,

There is no one alive Who is youer than you.

As God’s children, we are a special kind of prodigy: You are a child blessed by God – a prodigious child of God.