PRESIDENTIAL PERSPECTIVE

REVEREND DR. JAVIER A. VIERA

An enormous mural by Argentinian artist Franco Muñoz adorns the side of a bodega in the city and province of San Juan, Argentina. It is striking for several reasons. The first is the burst of color that jumps out from the center of the mural amidst a monotonous surrounding landscape, as well as the monochrome cityscape in the background of the mural itself. Muñoz said he wanted that burst of color to communicate joy and radiance in an otherwise drab reality. The other striking feature of the mural is the central image—a boy (it’s hard to tell how old) sporting a multi-colored hoodie, his eyes appearing to water or tear, and wearing a light blue pandemic-era face mask, featuring a huge smile, covering his mouth and nose. The contrast between the worried, almost fearful, teary-eyed look in the boy’s eyes with the huge smile on the mask is both stark and deceptive.

I have often thought about this mural as we’ve planned the work of our partnership with the Children’s Defense Fund (CDF), which you’ll learn more about in this issue of Aware. This partnership seeks to put the well-being and thriving of children at the center of our theological project. It assumes that communities that focus on the formation and flourishing of their children—physically, spiritually, economically, and educationally—are communities whose priorities and values are well-grounded. Yet, the mural subtly exposes that we too often fail to see the truth our children live. We convince ourselves that they are fine, choosing to see their “smiles” while failing to look beyond the “masks” we ask them to put on, missing their pain, their tears, their fear, their vulnerability, their fragility, their uncertainty, even in our safest and most secure communities. Alas, too often our churches have been the sites of their pain or the sites where their pain is masked.

Jesus was exceptionally clear when he said, “Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” If we are to be faithful followers of Christ, we must take those words seriously. As the Church in the United States continues to fracture and decline over endless differences, I would hope that the wellbeing and thriving of children is something that might bring us together in seeking to be faithful to Jesus’s call. In this sense, the research findings of our partners at the CDF serve as a clarion call.

• Children make up 22 percent plus of our national population, and the majority are children of color.

• One in seven children live in poverty. One in four black children and one in five Hispanic and Native Indian/ Alaskan children live in poverty.

• One in seven children are food insecure, meaning they live in households where not everyone has enough to eat.

• Nearly five million children have no health insurance.

• More than 80 percent of two-child families pay more for childcare than for rent.

• Gun violence was the leading cause of death for children and teens ages 1-19 in 2018, surpassing motor vehicle accidents for the first time, and in 2019, 3,371 children and teens were killed with guns—one every two hours and 36 minutes.

I could go on with endless statistics about the state of this nation’s children. Needless to say, in order to care for our children spiritually, in order to “pass down the faith,” in order for the church to be a meaningful space of growth, inspiration, values, moral formation, community, and hope, it must also be a community that meets and addresses the real needs and challenges our children face. We cannot expect to resonate with our children’s longings and dreams if we don’t acknowledge and live with the realities most of our children face. This is why we are placing the well-being and thriving of children at the center of our theological project. The state of our children’s well-being is a measure of our effectiveness and faithfulness. As Jesus said, “…do not hinder them…” Instead, the Church needs to be their fiercest advocate, the place where our children know the unconditional love and grace of God and of God’s people. This is deeply spiritual and theological work that someone at that bodega in San Juan, Argentina understood so well. On the front of the bodega, around the corner from that enormous mural of the boy wearing a hoodie and face mask, these words were spray painted on the front columns of the building: “I love you just the way you are.” “I love you just because.” “Don’t do anything without love.” “What would you do without fear?”

To some, it might look like a random act of vandalism. To me, they read like words from God. They are words of love, promise, and searching our children need to hear and words we as a seminary need to boldly live out!