Every kid has that older person in their life with whom they are especially close. It is usually an extended family member or close friend who either has no children of their own or whose children are older and they enjoy the company of little ones. They are the person who comes to visit on the holidays and takes a particular interest in them. They make a point of visiting their room, playing their new board game and is even willing to listen to them practice their recital piece (the one your mom often refers to as “noise.”)
For me, that person was my great uncle Sherman. Uncle Sherman was a WWII vet who visited our house each Thanksgiving along with his wife, sister and niece. While the ladies would cluster in the kitchen with my mother putting the finishing touches on the food, Uncle Sherman would make his way to my bedroom or basement play area to spend a little time with me. I have so many fond memories of our time together shooting marbles, playing Trivial Pursuit or my singing the entire score of Annie for him (at the top of my lungs, of course.) I must have wore that man out, but you’d never know it. He would applaud as if he were my biggest fan and ask me for an encore or to tell another joke. He was the best and I was lucky to have him in my life for as long as I did.
I can’t help wondering if Jesus filled a similar role in his social circle. The gospel doesn’t mention what occasion led up to Jesus being ambushed by a bunch of kids, but I suspect they were the children of His disciples who were excited to see their favorite person again.
“Do the trick with the water again, Jesus, please!” They beg, dancing around Him the minute he walks through the door.
“What trick with the water?” He asks. His eyes are wide and innocent.
“You know, remember that wedding in Cana? You turned water into wine for everyone.”
“Not me,” Jesus teases, knowing they are too young to understand the difference between magic and a miracle. “You must have me confused with someone else!”
“Now kids,” heir mothers admonish. “Leave Jesus alone, he just got here! Let him take his sandals off and relax a minute before you bombard him with your nonsense.”
Jesus shakes his head and pulls one of the smallest kids into His lap. “I’m not bothered. I’m energized when I am around them. Don’t make them leave. It’s OK.”
The language may be different in Matthew’s gospel, but the meaning is the same and it’s an episode that is familiar to those who had a similar figure in our own lives. Those kids didn’t know if Jesus was the Son of God, a prophet or a well-known preacher anymore than I knew that my uncle had been part of Normandy and the Battle of the Bulge. They knew He was a man who valued and validated them, who listened to their jokes with interest even if He had an uncanny way of knowing “who’s there” before they could say, “Knock, Knock.”
Today’s Mass Readings: EZ 18: 1-10, 13B, 30-32; PS 51:12-13, 14-15, 18-19; MT 19: 13-15
