There's a San Damiano Cross on the east wall of our house. Beneath the cross, there's a gold plaque with the Healing Prayer of Surrender engraved upon it.
Each morning, I break away from getting the girls dressed and fed to stand in front of the cross and read that prayer. With the sun rising in a nearby window, it starts each day off on a good note no matter what problems await me.
The other morning, Fiona jumped down the stairs saying that she wanted to pray too. I pulled her up into my arms.
At 3 1/2, Fiona lives in a world of wonder waiting to be prodded by her curiosity. "What are the dots on him?" Fiona asked.
"What dots, baby?"
She pointed to one on his stomach.
"That's his belly button."
She pointed to two on his chest.
"Those are his nipples," I answered, hoping that the next question wasn't why he had nipples.
"Why doesn't Jesus have a shirt on?" Fiona asked.
"People took it from him."
The little girl nodded. Not questioning the unfairness, just acknowledging the fact. "What are those dots?" she asked, pointing to his feet.
"They're nails, honey."
Fiona pointed to his hands and asked again, "What are those dots?"
"Those are also nails, baby." I paused, struggling to find the words. "They nailed him to a cross."
Fiona stared up at the statue of a man crowned in thorns and nailed to a cross. "Why did it happen?"
I paused again. "Because he wanted us to be set free from sin, so we could live forever with him in heaven."
Fiona nodded. She didn't have anymore questions. Her process of questioning, learning, and believing was complete. Fiona didn't understand everything about the Resurrection, but she felt she knew enough to believe.
It was a powerful demonstration of a child's ability to believe in the miraculous nature of the Divine. The same kind of belief that all of us are called to (Mark:10:15 "whoever does not accept the kingdom of God like a child will not enter it.")
Christmas is approaching. I've sent out cards and bought some presents. The tree is up and I listen to the weather reports, hoping they call for snow. I juggle my calendar trying to figure out how to make as many family gatherings as possible. There are snowman cookies and little voices singing carols.
It's a lot of fun and a lot of racket, but it's easy to lose sight that all of the celebration is based upon the premise that God's son was born in the small town of Bethlehem a little over 2,000 years ago. As described by Romano Guardini in his book The Lord, "The young creature in the stall of Bethlehem was a human being with human brain and limbs and heart and soul. And it was God."
It's an amazing thing to believe. Utterly 100% miraculous. Human reason falters beneath the angel's statement, "For today in the city of David a savior has been born for you who is Messiah and Lord." Luke 2:11.
I know that I will never understand the physics of that amazing event. Some of the theological complexities will remain a mystery me, no matter how deeply I study or meditate upon them.
The only right answer is to follow Fiona's lead and simply believe.
Merry Christmas,
matt
*** My book, Looking For Answers Through Dirty Glasses: Finding the Divine in a Challenging World, is now available on Amazon. Please pick one up for a friend. It's a compilation of the first year of this blog. A portion of the proceeds go to fund the amazing work of the Uganda Rural Fund. ***
Each morning, I break away from getting the girls dressed and fed to stand in front of the cross and read that prayer. With the sun rising in a nearby window, it starts each day off on a good note no matter what problems await me.
The other morning, Fiona jumped down the stairs saying that she wanted to pray too. I pulled her up into my arms.
At 3 1/2, Fiona lives in a world of wonder waiting to be prodded by her curiosity. "What are the dots on him?" Fiona asked.
"What dots, baby?"
She pointed to one on his stomach.
"That's his belly button."
She pointed to two on his chest.
"Those are his nipples," I answered, hoping that the next question wasn't why he had nipples.
"Why doesn't Jesus have a shirt on?" Fiona asked.
"People took it from him."
The little girl nodded. Not questioning the unfairness, just acknowledging the fact. "What are those dots?" she asked, pointing to his feet.
"They're nails, honey."
Fiona pointed to his hands and asked again, "What are those dots?"
"Those are also nails, baby." I paused, struggling to find the words. "They nailed him to a cross."
Fiona stared up at the statue of a man crowned in thorns and nailed to a cross. "Why did it happen?"
I paused again. "Because he wanted us to be set free from sin, so we could live forever with him in heaven."
Fiona nodded. She didn't have anymore questions. Her process of questioning, learning, and believing was complete. Fiona didn't understand everything about the Resurrection, but she felt she knew enough to believe.
It was a powerful demonstration of a child's ability to believe in the miraculous nature of the Divine. The same kind of belief that all of us are called to (Mark:10:15 "whoever does not accept the kingdom of God like a child will not enter it.")
Christmas is approaching. I've sent out cards and bought some presents. The tree is up and I listen to the weather reports, hoping they call for snow. I juggle my calendar trying to figure out how to make as many family gatherings as possible. There are snowman cookies and little voices singing carols.
It's a lot of fun and a lot of racket, but it's easy to lose sight that all of the celebration is based upon the premise that God's son was born in the small town of Bethlehem a little over 2,000 years ago. As described by Romano Guardini in his book The Lord, "The young creature in the stall of Bethlehem was a human being with human brain and limbs and heart and soul. And it was God."
It's an amazing thing to believe. Utterly 100% miraculous. Human reason falters beneath the angel's statement, "For today in the city of David a savior has been born for you who is Messiah and Lord." Luke 2:11.
I know that I will never understand the physics of that amazing event. Some of the theological complexities will remain a mystery me, no matter how deeply I study or meditate upon them.
The only right answer is to follow Fiona's lead and simply believe.
Merry Christmas,
matt
*** My book, Looking For Answers Through Dirty Glasses: Finding the Divine in a Challenging World, is now available on Amazon. Please pick one up for a friend. It's a compilation of the first year of this blog. A portion of the proceeds go to fund the amazing work of the Uganda Rural Fund. ***
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