Twenty-fifth Sunday of Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 134​

“Whoever receives one child such as this in my  name, receives me; 

and whoever receives me, 

receives not me but the One who sent me.”

We should pay attention to the three receives of this 37th verse of Mark 9. The first leads to the second, and the second to the third; the verse describes a step-by-step path to God for those willing to take it.

Beginning at the end, I see "the One who sent me." There are innumerable references to this "One" whom we can call "God the Father" or "the Father of Jesus." In the word sent we find the beginning, the eternal origin of Jesus! As T.S. Eliot wrote, "In my end is my beginning..." Describing the circularity of existence he wrote in the same poem, "In my beginning is my end." 

In the Spirit and Word of the New Testament, Christian Catholics believe that Jesus is the Presence of God among us. He is the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. He is eternally sent by the Father and eternally returning to the Father, gathering into himself those who abandon their sinful past, their compromised present and their dubious future.

That sounds terribly difficult. It's not. It begins with receiving "one child such as this in my name." That child may be the fruit of one's own body, an orphan, or someone similarly defenseless in an unsafe world.

Paradoxically, salvation begins with abandoning the effort to save myself and surrendering to the needs of those who can save neither me nor themselves! Only God effects salvation. 

But, once again, my reflections are sucked into the terrible vortex of the Scandal, the story of child sexual abuse by some clergy of our Church. For how many years rescuers rushed to the defense not of the children but of their tormentors? They did not receive the powerless, they received the powerful priests. In many cases they supposed the innocent were guilty despite their vulnerability, and the guilty were innocent despite all the creepy signs. They preferred the clergy who, with their magical incantations and mysterious powers, promised to lead them to Christ and to the Father. They were seduced by power. This passage about receiving children reveals the perpetrator's particular blasphemy because the criminal priests were often admired for their willingness to spend time with children. 

No one should blame the families of the victims. I grew up in a family where sexuality was never discussed. I had no words to describe what happened to those children, had it happened to me. I understand why they could not speak, and why no one could listen if they had spoken. No one could imagine what was happening, and the blame is squarely with the perpetrators.

But we must learn from this experience and the first learning is to "receive one such child as this in my name." When God appears among us our first impulse is to protect him. Receiving him, Mary and Joseph received "the One who sent me" -- and rushed him into Egypt, away from "Bethlehem and its vicinity." 

Today's gospel assumes that receiving a child is not a privilege. The disciples were discussing who was the greatest among them when Jesus taught them this lesson. They didn't suppose the one who changes diapers and gets up in the night to check crying babies might be the greatest. They might be amused by the disciple who plays pity-pat with a youngster but they have more important things to do, like advising senators and congressman on how to run the nation. To their way of thinking caring for the helpless and the needy is utter nonsense, and children are expendable. They believe, "If I care for the powerful they'll care for me!" 

This gospel recalls Jesus' doomed approach to Jerusalem. His disciples had to hear, even before they arrived there, what his crucifixion might mean for them. They had to learn that he came to serve and not to be served; and that they must expect to imitate him. Their path, as Saint Therese Liseux would teach, would be along the little way, the apparently pointless, and certainly thankless task of receiving a child.