We went for a short walk around downtown Blaine, Washington yesterday. By “we” I mean Susan and I, our son and his three children. Their mother works on Saturday and we often join their family during the mid day for lunch and an adventure. The children call Saturday “Daddy day” because their mother leaves for work early and returns late. The whole day from breakfast through bath and bedtime is time spent with their father. At any rate, walking with that crew is an interesting process. The four-year-old has a different pace than the ten-year-old. When we are with the family there is one adult per child, so we tend to spread out a bit. On a walk with the gang, there is usually an unexpected stop, often because one of the children needs a bathroom. Yesterday the stop was at the Blaine branch of the Whatcom County Library System. Our son, who is a librarian, seems to know librarians in all of the communities in the region. While some of us waited outside, our son and a granddaughter went into the library. They emerged with three or four books they had checked out and a yard sign advertising the library system.

As we were walking, I was listening to a conversation between our son and one of his children. He was telling the child some of the hopes and dreams he and his wife have for their children. “We hope,” he said, “that you will become adults who will always keep in touch with each other. Learning to talk to each other in positive ways is one way that you practice for when you become adults and will have to work harder to stay in touch.”

Later, as we were driving towards their home, an argument broke out in the back seat of the minivan. I’m not sure how it started, but it had the usual elements of children arguing. “Dad, she’s bugging me. Tell her to be quiet.” “I’m not doing anything!” After voices were quieted, their father, who was driving said, “That’s what I mean. Sometimes you don’t agree with the other person, and you have to work hard to be kind.”

I often think that our children are much more wise and capable as parents than we were at their age. It is one of the joys of being a grandfather: watching your children be good parents.

The brief incident in the car made me think of today’s reading form the 9th chapter of the gospel of Mark. Jesus and his disciples were walking through Galilee. When they got to Capernaum and went into a house, Jesus asked them, “What were you arguing about on the way?” They all were silent because on the way they were arguing with one another about who was the greatest.

When you read the gospel, you know it was a silly argument. Life is full of silly arguments.

Earlier in the week, I was walking through the parking lot at the grocery store when I heard two people loudly arguing. The argument seemed to be over where one of them had parked her car. The other person thought the car was in the way and was yelling at the owner of the car to move it, using some pretty strong language. The owner of the car could have parked the car in a regular parking place and walked to the store more quickly than it took to have the argument. The person protesting the parking of the car could have gone around it in less time than was taken up in the argument.

We often argue over things of no consequence.

I wonder if Jesus, as he was teaching his disciples felt a bit like our son. “How you handle these arguments makes a difference, because later, when I am not around, you will need to be able to work these things out by yourselves.”

The gospel reports that Jesus called all of his disciples together, sat them down, and said, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” Then he took a little child and put it in the middle of them, hugged the child and said, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.”

It is sage advice.

We need to practice the art of serving one another. We need to practice making others welcome.

I remember a few years ago when I was going through an especially stressful time in my life a member of the church I was serving got fairly angry at me because I didn’t do something she wanted me to do. I remember thinking, “Come on, cut me some slack. I’m having a tough time.” That memory has guided me many times in the years since. When someone is not behaving the way I want them to behave, I say to myself, “Come on, cut them some slack.” You never know what stresses and pressures another person is experiencing. I wonder if the people arguing in the parking lot gave any thought to what was going on in the other’s life. Perhaps the car was parked carelessly because the driver was late for an important meeting. Maybe the person who was yelling profanity was suffering from an injury and feeling a lot of pain from having to walk an additional distance. Maybe both of them just needed to be a little bit more considerate of the other.

Maybe their parents hadn’t taken the time to explain to them how important it is to learn to resolve disagreements.

I doubt that our children will remember yesterday’s conversation with their father, but it will become part of a larger memory of many conversations and many times he helped them resolve conflict. And, like their father, I sincerely hope that they gain the skills to be close to one another when they grow up to be adults.

Somehow Jesus disciples remembered that day long enough to tell the story and those who heard the story told it to others. His disciples are still telling that story thousands of years later. “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.”