“Have no fear little flock,” my mother would gently sing when I was very little, huddled beneath my blanket, scared of the dark. I certainly felt little in the world sometimes, but very confident when I heard those sweet words.

“Have no fear little flock,” I read Jesus’ words to Frieda, a 97 year-old little bent-over German lady, who lived in a little house on Paulina between two looming McMansions in constantly re-gentrifying Bucktown. She was used to the feeling of being little. She began her life in one of the many little villages in what it is now Poland but for most of its history was a pull toy between bigger nations who regularly marched through their towns.  Finally her family was pushed all the way to Paulina St. 

“Have no fear little flock, for the Father has chosen to give you the kingdom.” It sounds like a lullaby. 21st century listeners assume Jesus is using melodramatic cute metaphors. But He isn’t. He’s serious. You’re little. Micron auf Greich.

It’s sort of insulting. Little Joel would have hated being called little. We want to be big and bigger from a young age. We want to be our dad or mom, our big brother  Who are you calling little, Jesus? I’ve worked my way up the ladder to vice president. I’ve used my equity to go from house to house to eventually this great investment on Paulina overlooking a little lady who I’m hoping to buy out when she dies.

Little?

Micro, unseen, unnoticed, weak, helpless. No thank you. 

We want to be big like Adam and Eve wanted to be big.  

We think we are sometimes don’t we? Until we aren’t. Until we are waiting for a phone call from the doctor like a slave waiting to be sold. Until we are out of excuses and can’t get rid of our guilt.

If you don’t feel little now. I promise you. You will.

And then, and only then, you will finally hear Jesus say to you, “Have no fear little flock, for the father has chosen to give YOU the Kingdom.”

The Kingdom is only for little people.