Let the children come. Or, the "terrifying playground."

I used to attend a Lutheran (ELCA) church that practiced baptism mainly on Easter vigil but also did one-off baptisms for babies around the year. One of the fantastic practices they adopted was to invite all the children to come up to the chancel area (the "stage" for the liturigcally-linguistically challenged) and they would sit on the steps just below the spot where the baptism would take place. They might even be splashed by some of the water they were so close.

By sitting this close a few things happened:

1. The children were super engaged. Not only could they see well, but they had the best view in the sanctuary.
2. It drew all eyes up front.
3. It created a picture of the family of God as the community of the church. Suddenly the distinction between the "my kid" and "your kid" was blurred and the idea of "our kids," or better yet "God's kids," became clearer.
4. Finally, (and in service to this post) the parents had to free their children so they could run up to the chancel.

I emphasize that last part because this is another thought I have been dwelling on during this first fatherhood during lent. What does that mean to loosen the hold on one's child? Again I will point to the culture wars fought on social media and in legislatures and courts where it seems there is always a balancing act of protecting our children and not over legislating or coddling them. 

How do you find the balance between a scraped knee and a broken arm? Between your own worry of tragedy and your child's desire to be independent. Recently a Facebook friend posted an image with this caption: "Tried a new playground today...only slightly terrifying for parents, but very cool for kids."

Photo Credit Matt Emmett

We all have defaults. Often when I see spats between parents it is them trying to work out two different approaches to what they both legitimately see as healthy and safe parenting. In the final analysis I am would have to say that given a spectrum where left is complete freedom and right is complete control, I am somewhere left of center, but not drastically so. I am excited for my daughter to rush into some things, stumble and/or fall and learn something about potentiality and limitations. I hope to be there to catch her or for her to run to. I hope I can help her process and be a place of safety. But if I am not there I trust the church community to show up in my absence.

There is something analogous in that moment where the children rush forward to get the best seat at the baptism and Mark 10:14 the famous "let the children come" passage (see also Matthew 19:14 and Luke 18:16). In the scene the disciples famously and foolishly rebuke the children and the folks bringing their children into Jesus' presence. I have so many questions that I am not sure would have occurred to a non-parent to ask:

1. Where did these children come from?
2. Where were there parents? Were they the ones who brought them forward or were these children of the community and the folks who brought them were also random members of the community?
3. Were these the children's grandparents or aunts or uncles?
4. Were these children orphans?
5. Did these children know who they were approaching?
6. Were these children scared or confident? Or both? Everything in between?

We tend to focus on Jesus and the disciples and the children in this passage and I am sure some deeper exegesis will allow me to make an educated guess as to why the children were brought forth (I imagine something to do with Ancient Israel's blessing customs and/or Jesus' reputation for healing).

But for a moment my thoughts dwell with the larger community. The folks directing the children could be a stand-in for the baptismal covenant community we are about to consecrate our daughter into. Into this community I freely release her. Church can be dirty and messy and I am sure she will pick up some scrapes and bruises. But if just one person in that covenant community takes her to the house where Jesus is teaching and encourages her to run to him for a blessing then it will be worth it. It is a lifelong labor/joy/pattern that I hope she can embrace early and continually renew to the benefit of her and others as it spills over into her whole life.