The Child Behind the Warrior

Matthew 18:1–5; Joshua 24:14–15

Homily

When I was growing up, there was a portrait which hung on the wall of our home in West Virginia. It was a portrait of my great-grandfather—dressed in his Civil War uniform—sitting straight, sword across his lap, every bit the image of strength and resolve. Here, I brought a copy. Years later, that portrait came into my possession. The frame had begun to deteriorate, so I decided to have it reframed. When I removed the backing, to my great surprise, I found another portrait. Behind the image of the soldier…was the image of a child —perhaps my grandfather as a boy. Behind the warrior… there was a child. That discovery has stayed with me. Because in many ways, it reveals a truth we often forget: beneath all our strength, above all our accomplishments, and beyond all the roles we grow into—there remains something essential about being a child. And that brings us to the words of Jesus in Matthew 18. The disciples come to Him with a very adult question: “Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” Jesus answers in a very unexpected way. He calls a child into their midst and says, “Unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”Jesus answers in a very unexpected way. He calls a child into their midst and says, “Unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” Now Jesus is not suggesting that we become childish— but that we become childlike. A child trusts. A child depends. A child receives life as a gift. Children don’t pretend to be self-sufficient. They know they need guidance, protection, and love. And Jesus is telling us that this posture—this humility, this trust—is the very doorway into the kingdom of God. In other words, behind every “grown-up” disciple…there must remain a child who trusts God. And then Jesus goes even further. He says, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.” That is a remarkable statement. To welcome a child—to receive him, to nurture him, to care for him—is one very distinct way that we welcome Christ Himself. Which brings us to why we are here today. Today, in the baptism of David Bruce Rubin, we are not simply witnessing a family moment—we are witnessing a sacred calling. Because alongside this child stands a family. And to them, and to all of us, come the words from Joshua 24: “Choose this day whom you will serve… but as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.”“Choose this day whom you will serve… but as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.” Joshua understood something vital: faith is not lived in isolation—it is nurtured in the home. The household becomes the first place where a child learns what it means to trust, what it means to pray, and what it means to love God. And so today, this baptism is not only about David. It is also about the promise and responsibility of those who will shape his life. It is about us who are called to teach him the voice of the Shepherd, to model faith when life is easy—and when it is not, and to help him grow—not only into strength—but into trust. Because one day, like the man in this portrait, he too will grow. He will take on responsibilities, roles, and burdens. He will sit straight and will feel strong. But beneath it all—may there always remain a child who knows how to trust God. And may this household be one that can say, not only today but in the years to come: “As for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.” Amen.