The kids aren’t alright

In 1966, the British rock band The Who released a single from their debut album, “My Generation”, called “The Kids are Alright.” You might remember it. The song itself wasn’t written to be a statement on the general wellbeing of children, but as a phrase that title has come to join our lexicon of social commentary as a kind of short form way of commenting on how the children of any generation are doing. Since that song came out, there have been many other songs that try to take up this theme and usually push back against it. Songs like, “The Kids Aren’t Alright,” of which there are two different version, “The Kids Are All Wrong,” and, unfortunately, “The Kids Are Insane.” I kept hearing in my head this phrase, “the kids aren’t alright” when I was praying with this gospel passage this week.

No doubt this reflects my own anxiety, because I truly worry about how our children are doing. From what I see, there are a lot of indications that the kids aren’t alright. I recently sat with someone who told me a heartbreaking story about a child who lost their life from a senseless act of violence. I wish I could say this story was some kind of exception, but for anyone who wanted to look closer at the data, there are alarming statistics about childhood poverty, family violence, youth mental illness and suicide, and about injuries and deaths due to gun violence, particularly school shootings. But these issues, poverty, despair, gun violence, are not created by the children, they bear the cost of them, but these issues come out of the world we have created for them. The fact is, the kids aren’t alright, and it is our fault. If that is uncomfortable to hear, then I think we might understand what it was like for the disciples to hear this teaching from Jesus, because this is the place he was coming from.

This is the second time in the gospel of Mark that Jesus talks to the disciples about where his ministry is headed, that he will be taken from them and killed, and the second time he has tried to talk to them about the upside down hierarchy of the Kingdom of God, that the last will be first and that if they are to follow him, the path they are on is one of service, not of acclaim. And just as it is the second time that he tells them all of this, it is also the second time that they just don’t get it. We can hardly blame them, Jesus’ description of the Kingdom of God is unlike the way of the world, then or now, where status and prestige are the goal, obtained maybe through circumstances of birth, maybe through accumulation of resources, but certainly not through welcoming the most vulnerable. I couldn’t begin to tell you what the poverty rate, the suicide or homicide rate for young people in 1st Century Capernaum might have been but I think we all know that the prospects for a child like the one Jesus took into his arms were pretty dismal. Creating a world where their needs are embraced would have made even less sense to his disciples than it makes to us today. We at least give lip service to a concern for the needs of children.

So, when it comes to the disciples, Mark tells us that “on the way they had argued with one another [about] who was the greatest.” On the way, they argued about their relative status. On the way. Take note of that, on the way. They were literally traveling the way of the cross, headed with Jesus to Jerusalem, and have so misunderstood what discipleship means that they are instead arguing amongst themselves about their status. Here they’ve been following Jesus, seeing him perform miracles, hearing him, twice now, tell them what lies ahead. But yet, they did not understand and were afraid to ask. It’s that fear that is telling. Their fear says that maybe it’s not just that they don’t understand what Jesus is saying, but that they don’t like what he is saying, they don’t want to accept what he is saying. What they hear Jesus say is frightening. Frightening not only in what it means for Jesus, their teacher whom they love and follow, but frightening also for what it means for them. What it means to walk the way of the cross with him. What it means to be a disciple.

Discipleship is not an easy path, nor is it a path of status and prestige. If we are seeking these things, if we are experiencing these things, then we are probably not on the right path, not on Jesus’ path. Yes, that may be hard to understand. But mostly it’s unsettling. Frightening even. When Jesus sees that they are resisting this teaching, he tries to give them a clearer picture of what this looks like. He gives them an object lesson in what discipleship is all about. And it is a shocking one. Taking the child into his arms, Jesus says, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.” Welcoming is a particular interest of mine, and this passage is one of my favorites. This is mainly because I am so struck by Jesus’ use of the word welcoming in the context of discipleship. Welcoming doesn’t typically sound like servanthood. When we think of welcoming the most vulnerable into our church, into our lives, we might think it means making sure the door is unlocked, there is enough space for everyone, and we greet them as they enter. “Welcome,” we might say. But that lets us off easy, it requires too little of us, and does not have much to do with servanthood. Jesus is clear that discipleship is about servanthood.

In his effort to explain yet again what is required of them as disciples, Jesus stops, and he sits down. This isn’t a fleeting moment. This is a moment to pay attention to. And notice how Jesus doesn’t just point at a child in the room. He takes the child in his arms. This is the example he sets for them. He embraces the child. Welcoming doesn’t keep people at arm’s length, it’s close up, it’s intimate, like washing feet. It has to be. Otherwise, it’s not servanthood, and it’s not the Kingdom of God. The Kingdom of God. Where Jesus tells us the first shall be last and the last shall be first. Here’s another clue as to why welcoming is an important part of discipleship. It isn’t only about the actions involved, but it’s also about who we welcome. It’s not enough to say that we welcome everyone, Jesus says that we welcome first those who are last. We welcome those who are otherwise not welcomed, the children, the vulnerable.

Clearly, the kids in our world today, just like the kids in Jesus’ time, are not living in a world that embraces them, and the vulnerable are not living in a world that embraces them, so we are called today to do that hard work, just like the disciples were. I’d love to tell you exactly how to do that. Certainly, I’ve got lots of ideas about who we need to welcome and how we should do that. For instance, I could say that everyone just needs to help out more with Children’s Chapel. And although it is true that volunteers in addition to the parents of the children involved would be most appreciated, that obviously isn’t the answer for everyone. But what I can tell you is that it should be hard, it should be close up, and maybe even where you least expect it. This is the message the disciples heard. For now, I invite you to be in prayer about how we as a church can welcome the most vulnerable in our midst. We’re only just beginning to understand what that might mean for us. And for all of us as individuals, I hope that we can also be in prayer about our own path of discipleship, to understand better our own call to welcome the vulnerable. One thing I am sure of, is that we are all called.