The story of Jesus and the children is the passage often cited as one key biblical foundation for child advocacy. This is a story beloved by curriculum developers and by artists who illustrate Bible stories for children. There are many winsome paintings that depict beautiful laughing children, hair shining with cleanliness and spotless clothing. Such illustrations are attractive, but I’ve often wondered if we don’t do an injustice to the power behind the narrative when we show the children in this way.
So I was struck with the way Joyce Ann Mercer explores that story in Mark’s gospel. In her book, Welcoming the Children: A Theology of Childhood1, Mercer examines specific stories from Mark’s gospel to address the question of how children appear in Mark’s telling of the story. Child advocates most often use the story of Jesus welcoming the children from Matthew or Luke. But in focusing on Mark’s account instead (Mark 10:13-16), Mercer helps us to examine the place of children in the context of a culture dominated by the oppressive rule of the Roman Empire. The farming peasant population of that time was crushed under the weight of economic privation. Family structures, and in particular women and children, were under enormous economic pressure. So it’s likely that the children in Mark’s account were street children who may have straggled after Jesus from place to place, children that Mercer calls “other people’s children.”
The children look entirely different if we reframe our mental image of Jesus and the children in the light of Mercer’s analysis. I envision thin children in ragged clothing, children who obviously have missed more than one meal. I see dirty faces and runny noses, and maybe an open sore or two. When we radically alter our mental image of this narrative, the story of Jesus welcoming the children expands our understanding to include, not just the children we claim as our own, but the most vulnerable of the vulnerable; “other people’s children.” In my ministry, we call these children “at risk.”
In the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), we are at the midpoint of the Decade of the Child. It is profoundly depressing to discover that the plight of children has gotten so much worse in the past five years. The number of poor children in working families increased from 8.3 million in 2001 to 8.9 million in 2004. The number of children living in extreme poverty has increased by 20 percent since 2000. Nine million children have no health insurance. Globally, the picture is also dismal, despite a commitment to the United Nations Millennial Goals to reduce poverty. Children die from easily preventable illnesses like malaria, tuberculosis, and diarrhea, illnesses caused by lack of access to clean water or to something as simple as a mosquito net. Many boys and girls may not live to see our Decade come to a close.
Yet it may also be necessary to reframe our understanding of just who are children “at risk.” A landmark report by the Commission on Children at Risk makes the case that overall, the mental and behavioral health of children in the United States is deteriorating. In the face of rising affluence, growing numbers of children and youth are falling victim to mental illness and emotional and behavioral problems. Suicide rates, attention deficit, depression, and conduct disorders afflict a growing number of the young. And treatment models–such things as drug treatments, psychotherapies, and special programs–while necessary, cannot fully address what the Commission calls a crisis. What America’s children are lacking is a deep sense of connectedness to other people and to moral and spiritual meaning.
The Commission’s report, Hardwired to Connect: The New Scientific Case for Authoritative Communities2, presents scientific evidence that the human child’s brain is actually “hardwired” for connectedness. Sadly, the social institutions that can provide this kind of connectedness are significantly weaker than in past generations. What our children need are authoritative communities, those that put the needs of children and youth first: warm, nurturing, intergenerational communities with clear limits and a strong spiritual base. Both the family and the church have the potential to be this kind of community.
Joyce Mercer draws a parallel between the oppressive presence of the Roman empire in the lives of first century children and the “empire” of the global economy. Even those of us whose families benefit from the products and services globalization has brought suffer the dehumanizing effects of this “empire.” The free market that characterizes our global economy has targeted children as a market segment. Children and youth are now at the center of the consumer economy. Marketing has access to the classroom through so-called “educational” television programming complete with commercials, vending machines that dispense junk food, and fast food franchises in school cafeterias.
Even our youngest children are not beyond the market’s reach. Some children as young as two years old can recognize a market brand. Everything from toys to breakfast cereal is aggressively marketed to young children. Perhaps one of the most damaging manifestations of this market driven economy is the availability of extremely violent video games to children as young as seven. In the world in which we live, it’s pretty clear that “other people’s kids”–children at risk– are not just the children “out there.” They are our own.
In the face of all this, what should be the church’s response? We can no longer afford to draw the circle of our concern only around the children within our congregations. We must recognize that the lives of our own children are impacted every day, both by a consumer economy and by interactions with other children whose lives are lived in sight of plenty but on the edge of poverty. Globalization has brought the world to our doorstep in such a way that the degree of separation from the most vulnerable has evaporated. Congregations with no children in their midst need only turn their eyes beyond their doors and affirm that the children on their doorstep are “their” children. Congregations with many children need not only to focus on making the church an authoritative community for the children in their midst, but to extend that hospitality to the children in their community and the world.
The theme of the Decade of the Child is “Children: God’s gift, our call.” At this midpoint of the Decade, we have a lot of work to do. God has indeed gifted us with children, as Joyce Mercer says, because God has a purpose for them–to reveal to us what God and God’s realm is like. We are called to include them all. We are called to work on their behalf and along side them. We are called to make our images of children multi-faceted and multidimensional: They are not only consumers, but actors. Not only becoming, but already persons in their own right. Not only well mannered, but sometimes infuriatingly human. Not only “other peoples’ children” but ours, every one of them.
Because worship is central to the Reformed tradition, congregations who want to stand for children can begin with worship and prayer. Churches can hold a Children’s Sabbath this October (or whenever best fits the church calendar) to lift up the gifts and needs of children. This year the PC(USA) is partnering with Children Defense Fund in producing a Children’s Sabbath resource with some content specific to the PC(USA). Children’s Sabbath resources will soon be available at a nominal cost from Presbyterian Women and from the Child Advocacy Office.
1Welcoming Children: A Practical Theology of Childhood, by Joyce Ann Mercer. St. Louis: Chalice Press, 2005.
2 Hardwired to Connect: The New Scientific Case for Authoritative Communities. New York: Institute for American Values, 2003.
Martha Bettis Gee is associate for child advocacy, justice, and compassion in the National Ministries Division, PC(USA).
