A Time to Laugh

And who sticks around to play with the kids while the other two sourpusses can only flare their nostrils in disgust? According to Judith M. Gundry-Volf, hands down the Rabbis. She compares the ancient near-Eastern attitudes toward children, and I’m a tad flabbergasted that the Graeco-Roman ways sound so familar.

To the Greek, a child was weak and deficient. He couldn’t talk, think, or take care of himself. The child was simply an underdeveloped human, a social drain. The child in Greece and Rome was equal to the slave, occupying the lowest rung of the cultural ladder. Cicero, too, commented that childhood, “the thing itself cannot be praised, only its potential.” Childhood wasn’t a time to be admired and relished, but simply endured.

And so their brutal practices toward the child make sense. In Rome, the father had complete and entire authority over the child’s life. He could capriciously decide to recognize and raise it or “cast it out.” Sometimes ne’er-do-wells would pick up these newborns and raise them as slaves or worse. Think of the brutal killings in Egypt and under Herod’s reign. These crimes cut especially deep into the Hebrew soul. Gundry-Volf points out that the practice of casting out newborns was so prominent in the Near East, that everyone at the time was surprised that the Jews didn’t do it.

For the Jews, the child participated in God’s Promise. “Children were thus members of God’s covenant with Israel–in rabbinic teaching, even those still in the womb–and it was expected that they would assume covenantal responsibilities” (35). Now there are stories in Hellenic culture about generous souls that take in these foundlings. But there’s one major difference between those legends and what Mark describes in his Gospel:

While Plutarch and Diodorus depict memorable or legendary women as taking children into their arms and as exemplary in this respect for other women, Mark depicts Jesus, a man, taking a little child into his arms as an example for his male disciples in particular, and all disciples in general.. . . . Jesus thus redefines the service of children as a sign of greatness for all disciples. What appeared to be an undistinguished activity–care for children, belonging to the domain of women, similarly marginalized people–becomes a prime way for all disciples to demonstrate the greatness that corresponds to the reign of God (44).

So for Christ, the child was not just the recipient of God’s blessing, not just the model for the kingdom, but also His representatives of mercy! Gundry-Volf wonders if it’s because children were not expected to keep the Law in the least that Christ features their faith alone. They just enjoy their friendship with Christ without pretense or expectation.

While the Greeks and Romans hear children’s words as silly, Christ hears praise to God and from God in their words. While the Greeks and Romans see children as inadequate, Paul sees them as holy. In Colossians and Ephesians, both, children are fellow members of the Church, deserving of respect and kindness.

When the Greeks and Romans look at a child, they see, at best, disposable property and, at worst, a burden. But Paul sees a fellow Christian. And Christ sees a perfect believer, unencumbered by social mores and legal burdens.