The Importance of Being Children
The Importance of Being Children
The other day in Godly Play, as I blessed each child before they left, I also said:
“You are so important!”
Every child looked surprised, every child smiled—every single one!
How often do you think a child hears this message?
Last week, the world watched as the Attorney General of the United States, Pam Bondi, ignored survivors of childhood abuse and flippantly dismissed the urgency of investigating atrocities against children (atrocities that most likely implicate the sitting president), changing the subject instead to our purported economic success.
In response, I preached a sermon about children’s safety in our church and our collective responsibility as adults to protect them. Afterwards, a congregant and I talked about something we had both learned in seminary. In antiquity, children were an oppressed class, and Jesus’s blessing of the children was not sweet or sentimental—it was a rejection of the Empire and of the systems that oppressed them. And despite all our cultural progress, children remain an oppressed class of people.
Children have no meaningful social power. They have no vote. They have little agency. They have limited opportunities to make their own choices. They are completely dependent on adults for protection and safety. The horrifying revelations surrounding the Epstein files have shown us what hasn’t changed in centuries:
Power and money trump children. (Pun intended.)
The world is a dangerous place for a children when the highest authorities treat their bodies, hearts, and souls as expendable. This might seem like an extreme and violent manifestation of a larger truth, but the message is reinforced in a thousand smaller ways every day—every time a child is made to feel like their feelings do not matter, their needs are inconvenient, or their presence is bothersome.
A few years ago, I helped write a day camp curriculum for children. One of our non-negotiables was a daily feast with a beautifully set table for the children. One morning, a little girl arrived, looked at the table, and asked,
“Who is that for?”
Our camp leader answered,
“It’s for you!”
The little girl paused, surprised, and said,
“Oh… I thought it was for someone important.”
And our camp leader responded,
“It is for someone important. It’s for you.”
Contrast that story with the unfathomable reality that children held at Dilley Detention Center are being fed food contaminated with worms and mold. Do you think the workers at these facilities go home to eat moldy food? I’m willing to bet they think they are too important for that.
When the disciples were arguing about who was most important in the Kingdom of God, Jesus literally held up a child and said, “This is who is most important. This is who matters most.”
The message that children are important, that they matter, that they are beloved, needs to be so much louder than the message that their existence is “too much,” “annoying,” “too loud,” or inconvenient. I promise you they are hearing and feeling both.
It is our moral responsibility to build them up and to deposit so much love in their hearts that there is no room for them to doubt themselves or their worth. We must surround them with the true message of who they are, so they can recognize the lie when they hear it.
I know the world feels enormous right now, and many of us feel helpless. The release of the Epstein files has us (me included) spiraling in despair every time I hear another horrific story. But I believe with every fiber of my being that how we treat children right now matters more than almost anything else we can do.
If you are wondering what you can do in your own small corner of the world that genuinely makes a difference, may I suggest a simple practice?
If there is a child in your life, get down on their level.
Look into their eyes.
Say their name.
And tell them that they are important.
You can say something like this:
“You are so important. But you do not need me, or anyone else, to make you important, because you already are! But I can help you remember. You are important. You are loved.”
Did anyone give you that message when you were a child? If not, perhaps begin there, with an image of your child self. Tell her, with tenderness and earnestness, how important she is.
Tell her she is worth everything.
Tell her she is beloved.