Last week, as those of you who were here will remember, I spoke about death. I spoke about the horrors that our world can hold - like the painful deaths of small children - and why it is only in confronting these horrors that we realize our need for a Savior. I spoke about how one of the most radical claims of Christianity is that death is not natural; about how we shouldn't "accept" death; about how we must instead accept life, affirming it so strongly that we deny death itself and rejoice in Him who has defeated it.

Today, I want to continue to speak about children, and about what they teach us about life. I believe that this is particularly important for those of you who are not here often. As your priest, I often ask myself, "Why don't they come?" Why don't you? I believe it is mostly because you don't understand how the Church can help you in your day-to-day life. This is only partly your own fault. It's as much if not more so because the Church has failed to show you.

Today I want you travel back with me as we try to relive those times when we were children in our local parishes growing up. I remember my days as a young altar boy assisting my priest in the Holy Altar during these sacred days. For me everything seemed special yet strange. The priest wore different colored vestments. Everything seemed very somber and I realized that I was about to experience something so special.

I want to keep my words to you today shorter than usual, in part to keep our focus on this glorious Feast and our fellowship together, and in part because my message is simple. Even, I hope, childlike.

My message to you today comes down to this one word: childlike. Fr. Alexander Elchaninov, an Orthodox priest of the early 20^th century, once wrote that, "Childlikeness is lost in life and regained in holiness."

We often fail to appreciate childlikeness, because we confuse it with childishness. To understand what this means, let me share two short stories with you.

Just last week, a friend told me a story about what happened when his young son lost his first tooth. His boy decided to write a note, and put it in an envelope with his tooth under his pillow. This is what the note said:

"Dear tooth fairy. If you get blown away by the wind tonight don't worry I can wait. I want to have wings. Please let me have them because this is the first time I have lost a tooth. Love, Aidan. P.S.: Where do fairies live?"

Was this young boy childish, or childlike?

The second story is about a mother who many years ago punished her young daughter for wasting a roll of expensive gold wrapping paper. Money was tight, and the girl had used the gold paper on Christmas Eve to decorate a box to put under their tree.

The little girl brought the box to her mother the next morning and said, "This is for you, Momma." The mother was embarrassed by her earlier over-reaction, but she got angry again when she opened the box and found it was empty. She growled at her daughter, "Don't you know, young lady, that when you give someone a present there's supposed to be something inside the package?"

But the girl cried, "Oh, Momma, it's not empty! I blew kisses into it until it was full." The mother was crushed. She fell on her knees and put her arms around her little girl, and she begged her for forgiveness.

Tragically, the young girl was killed in an accident only a short time later. The mother has kept the box by her bed ever since, and whenever she is discouraged or faces difficult problems she opens the box, and takes out an imaginary kiss, and remembers the love of the child who had put it there.

Was this young girl childish, or childlike?

As I thought about what I could say today to those of you who I rarely see here, I was filled with ideas and, I might add, tears. How can I convey to you the seriousness of what it is the Church is offering you today, this week and everyday of your life, for that matter? How can I convince you that the best decision you can make every day of your life is to worship God? The best decision you can make is to become a member of a sacred community such as St. Demetrios's, and find an oasis in the desert of life.

I also thought about talking about the richness of the stories and teachings of this Feast. Of the raising of Lazarus. The thievery of Judas and the seeds of his betrayal. Mary Magdalene's anointing of Jesus's feet. Jesus's fulfilling of the Old Testament prophecies by riding in to Jerusalem on a donkey.

Then I thought about talking about all the ways in which the Church can help you overcome your daily struggles. Of how our Tradition can guide you in your relationships and your work. But I won't lie to you. Coming to Church won't help you buy a new car. It won't make you more popular at dinner parties. It won't make your teeth whiter or your bathing suit fit better.

And then I realized that I was looking for an answer with my head, instead of with my heart. And what my heart tells me is that I have only one thing to offer you: the chance to become childlike. A chance for you to return to the days when you were young and did not have the cares of life on your shoulders. When you could come to church as I did as a child and worship God unencumbered by the weight of your burdens, and bow down before the majesty of God.

In our Epistle reading today, we heard these words of St. Paul:

"Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I say, rejoice! Let your gentleness be known to all men. The Lord is at hand. Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus."

This counsel can sound naive to us today. "Let your gentleness be known to all men"? You might think it's foolish to think of gentleness to all men - not just to your spouse, or your children - as a good thing. But this is what God teaches us. To be gentle. To let go of our cares. To be at peace. To be, in other words, childlike.

Remember the words of our Lord from the Gospel of Mark: "Let the little children come to Me, and do not forbid them; for of such is the kingdom of God. Assuredly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will by no means enter it."

Not only did Jesus teach this lesson. He lived it. On Palm Sunday, He knew His death was coming. Yet there He sat, riding a donkey, giving and receiving love. I can imagine the peace He must have felt. No more secrecy. No more hiding. He could finally be who He was, publicly revealing His destiny. "A great multitude that had come to the feast, when they heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem, took branches of palm trees and went out to meet Him, and cried out: ‘Hosanna! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!'" This, my brothers and sisters, is what childlikeness looks like.

No matter how old you are, Jesus Christ is your Lord and father. He welcomes all of us in to His house. He welcomes us to our place at His side. He welcomes us in to the treasurehouse of God's love.

Let me leave you with a final quote from the journal of Fr. Elchaninov:

"Earthly happiness - love, family, youth, health, enjoyment of life and nature - all this is good, and we must not think that Christianity severely condemns it all. What is bad is enslavement to our happiness, so that this happiness possesses us and we are entirely engrossed in it, forgetting what is essential."

I don't want you to be enslaved to your happiness. But I don't want you to reject it either. And I especially don't want you to reject that deepest happiness that only comes when you are anxious for nothing. Don't fear embarrassment, or danger, or even death. Instead, be vulnerable. Be gentle. Be childlike. Because only then can you truly rejoice. Only then can you with your whole heart shout, "Hosanna!

So feast today. And come tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that. Like a child, come and sit at the feet of Christ and learn from him during this most holy of weeks.

In the end, the reason that those of you who aren't here often should come to church is the same reason that those of you who do come often should come, and probably need to be reminded about. Come to lay down your burdens. Come to let go for a time of the self-reliant, skeptical mantle of a grown-up. Come to experience the qualities of a child: trust, joy, and the ability to love and be loved.

Go ahead. Ask God for wings. Blow a box full of kisses.

Fr. Christopher Metropulos is founder, host, and executive director of the Orthodox Christian Network (OCN) and the Come Receive The Light national Orthodox Christian radio program (www.myocn.net). He is pastor of St. Demetrios Greek Orthodox Church of Fort Lauderdale, Florida, where he and his wife Georgia are raising their six children.