Learn from the children Wis 2:12, 17-20; Ps 54:3-4, 5, 6 and 8; Jas 3:16—4:3; Mk 9:30-37 I was incredibly fortunate to be able to do my doctorate at Trinity College in Dublin, Ireland. It was a wonderful experience. However, it did not come without its ups and downs. My 2-year-old nephew got me through a very difficult time in the middle of my doctoral program. During this time, I was in a constant state of anxiety because I was afraid that I was going to fail. I kept comparing myself to my fellow doctoral students. I saw them getting more comfortable and confident in their projects and themselves. Meanwhile, I kept getting more insecure. I was exhausted and completely drained. Then I went home to be with my family for Christmas. All I wanted to do was stay at home and spend time with my little nephew. However, I did not feel like I could take time off to rest. So, every day I would go to the public library to work on my dissertation. My nephew knew that I went to the library every day to work. As I was getting ready to leave one morning, he asked me what I do for work at the library. Too exhausted to explain a doctoral program to a toddler, I answered, “Auntie Kate reads books and writes stuff.” He paused for a moment. Then he very seriously responded, “Why do you read books and write stuff?” I was stunned and speechless. I had no answer for him. I had forgotten why I was studying for a doctorate in the first place. I could not see anything beyond my own fear. My nephew’s question lived in the back of my mind that day. I was troubled that I could not answer it. No matter how hard I tried to focus on my work, I could not. So, I decided to rest for the first time in two years. The next day I stayed home. I watched television with my mother and played Yahtzee with my grandmother. My father, brother and I played cards. I read books to my nephew. Little by little, I felt calmer and lighter. I returned to the university feeling rested and with a renewed sense of purpose. All of this came to pass thanks to a poignant question from a small child. Our Gospel today is one with which we are likely familiar. Many images have been created from the stories in which Jesus allows the children to come to him. In today’s story, of course, the children are presented as models for the disciples to follow. Children can represent innocence, and this is often where people look to understand this passage. However, the concern reflected in the disciples’ dispute is not related to innocence so much as it is to humility (Mk 9:34-35). To be accepted, and to be able to accept God (Mk 9:37), one must model oneself after the humility of a child. Children rely on adults to care for them. They rely on others to teach them and keep them safe. They are also obligated to honor their parents, to recognize that their parents are more experienced and knowledgeable about life. Even in this humility, children can surprise us. They grow and change every day, revealing their unique gifts and sharing their wisdom with us. From the teens who call our attention to climate change, to the littles ones who encourage us to confront difficulties in our lives, children have so much to teach us because they are open to learning and growing. My nephew helped me to rethink my own perspective on my doctoral program. His simple questions revealed to me that I had gotten caught up in comparing myself to others (Jas 3:16) instead of staying focused on my work and being grateful for the gifts God had given me. It can be difficult not to let ourselves get distracted by our fears and our more negative impulses when we are under stress. Perhaps we can learn how to grow in humility from the children in our lives. In this way, we can grow more comfortable with who we are and more grateful for the gifts we have to offer the world.
About the Author Kate Oxsen is an assistant professor of Old Testament studies at Catholic Theological Union.