David Anguish
Not to justify them, but I think I understand why they did it. After all, Jesus was a special teacher, with a full appointment book. The press of the crowds was intense. People, including some in positions of importance. sought him out by the hundreds. Indeed, if all people could do was touch him, it was enough. He was on a mission. The Deliverer, expected for centuries, had come!
So, when "some children were brought to Him so that He might lay His hands on them and pray,...the disciples rebuked them" (Matthew 19:13, NASB). Maybe they saw the rich young ruler coming (vv 15ff). Maybe those who brought the children interrupted a debate with the Pharisees, another chance for Jesus to get across his message to once of the most important focus groups around. No reason for their rejection is specified. But it does not seem much of a stretch to conclude that the disciples, like so many before them and since, had become so wrapped up in the adult world that they forgot about the children, those dependents who demonstrated the essence of what kingdom living was about (Matthew 18:1-6).
The idea for this writing began while I sat at the recent Georgia Agape Dinner. I listened as selected foster parents told stories representing what such care entails. I listened as two other foster parents, men with more experience as speakers, wove stories from their experiences into powerful challenges. And I listened as a representative of Georgia's Department of Family and Children's Services told us that there are currently twelve thousand children in Georgia assigned to the guardianship of the state.
Think about that. Twelve thousand children. Twelve thousand! Children born to mothers addicted to cocaine. Children whose fathers they will never meet. Children born to unwed teenage mothers who made a mistake, or who thought that if they could just have a little one to love, they might receive the love they long for in return. Children who have been abused and molested in ways that most of us can never imagine. Children who are scared as they meet their foster parents, frightened because even a crowded, noisy shelter will all its anonymity and dangers has become the one known commidity in a lifetime of insecurity. And yes, children of parents whose own lives have caved in on them, but who can at least make sure their children survive.
Despite what advertisers want them and you to believe, modern children are not miniature adults, hip to the world and as ready for its responsibilities as for its fashions. They may have more factual knowledge than their predecessors - they are, after all, exposed to more data than any previous generation - but emotionally, spiritually and physically they are fragile. They need our guidance, our attention, our care.
What can we do? That depends on many things, of course, the diverse talents of the Lord's body amongh them. Twelve thousand children in out state need a home. It may be for only a little while or a lifetime. It would be wonderful if we had twelve thousand Christian home available, a lofty, but worthy goal. But while we reach for the heights, can we offer a few homes here, a few more there, and still a few more over there? Families who have what it takes should use what they have. Churches should encourage them. One spearker at the dinner I attended challenged each church present to seek to imitate his congregation's example - see ten percent of their families serving as foster parents. But it's not just foster (or adoptive) care that's needed. Other church members should build a support network for those who foster and adopt. More with above average resources should consider using their bounty to support both the families on the front line in this effort and those who make it possible for them to care for the children. Whatever any of us can do for children, we should do, for, as Garrison Keillor has said, "Nothing you do for children is ever wasted."
Twelve thousand children. Think about it.