After his death and resurrection the Church remembers many things about the Rabbi from Nazareth, among them that liked the company of children. In our reading for today it says that "little children were being brought to [Jesus] in order that he might lay his hands on them and pray. The disciples spoke sternly to those who brought them; but Jesus said, 'Let the little children come to me, and do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of heaven belongs.' And he laid his hands on them and went on his way."
The attitude reflected in this story is a highly unusual one among Jewish males of Jesus' time, who would have regarded the presence of children as a nuisance. The idea that childhood is something valuable in itself is a modern idea; the 19th Century sentimentalized childhood in a way that it never had been before. In earlier times, childhood was—for both children and adults--an ordeal to be endured and "gotten through' as quickly as possible. We have all heard the expression—"Children should be seen and not heard"—and that was indeed the attitude of earlier times. Children were expected to remain politely silent in the presence of adults. Look at pictures of children from earlier centuries and you will see that they were dressed like little adults. They were expected to act like adults too, growing up fast and working hard at very adult jobs. Both sexes were subjected to the strictest discipline, including beating. They were often sent away by their parents, upper class boys to school and college. Working class children were farmed out at an earlier age—the boys as apprentices and the girls as housemaids. Both sexes were married very young by modern standards—especially the girls. The reasons were not just economic. Before the 19th Century a large—indeed shockingly large—portion of infants and young children died of childhood diseases. People loved their children then as now, but there were sound emotional reasons for detachment. People did not value the freedom, simplicity, and spontaneity of childhood. "Little ones" were expected to grow up as quickly as possible. Children resisted, of course—as children will. But St. Paul's attitude is more typical. He writes: "When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways" (1 Corinthians 13:11).
Jesus did not think this way, and that made him rare and almost unique in ancient times. His attitude was nothing short of revolutionary—and the Church remembered it. He saw childhood not as a situation to be endured and but an attitude adopted--and a paradigm of life in the kingdom of heaven. When some of his disciples come to him with the question—"Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?"--Jesus produces an actual child, whom he sets among them—a symbolic action—and says, ""Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven." (18:15). The emphasis here is upon the word "change"—the disciples must make a conscious change, which went against the demands of their culture and upbringing—rather than "growing up," they must make the decision to "grow downward."
Children in Jesus' time were expected to be humble and obedient, and the true follower of Jesus must adopt those same attitudes. Children were at the lowest level in the social stratum, and disciples were to put themselves there was well. "Become like children"--it is a command that has no parallel in the ancient world, pagan or Jewish, where dignity was a paramount virtue. Yet the sacrifice of our pride is necessary for greatness in the reign of God. Jesus says, "Whoever becomes humble like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven." This was the conscious pattern of Jesus' own life. For him the essence of faith was to recognize his own dependency and to rely upon the strength of his Abba—his Father in heaven. Jesus portrays himself as the image of the child, and says, "Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me" (18:1-5). For him the Gospel—the good news that God's kingdom is breaking into the world-- is a gift to be received with childlike joy and not an intellectual puzzle to be solved.
In distinction from Jesus, the disciples take the attitude of the male Jews of his day toward children—they see them and those who bring them for Jesus to "lay his hands on them and pray" as pests and distractions. But Matthew uses this story as an opportunity to display something that is very dear to the hearts of modern Christians—the friendliness and affability of Jesus. The picture he paints of the Lord is not of a dour teacher but of man filled with good-natured cordiality, who says of himself—"The Son of Man [comes] eating and drinking, and they say, 'Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!" (11:19).
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