30 June 2016
18 June 2016
Simple and Elemental
‘I like you.’
In the middle of a busy day,
surrounded by children and all their accompanying noise, a three year old boy
said these words to me and it made me stop in my tracks.
I mean, how often does anyone say
that to you?
What can you do but smile? It’s so
disarming.
His simple, transparent honesty
was incredibly endearing. A heart-warming moment that could easily have been
missed. Isn’t it far too easy to get caught up with organising and cleaning and
disciplining and teaching little people? The frustrations, the push-your-button
moments, and the unbelievable mess they are capable of making in an
unbelievably short space of time, driving you to the brink of sanity and
then…………….
‘I like you.’
And suddenly all that other maddening
stuff, just melts away.
It’s not something we big people
say. It’s not something we do. We don’t
retain the straightforward relational simplicity of childhood. Conversations
take a sharp turn into awkward, self-conscious territory. We shift
uncomfortably and don’t quite know how to respond.
Jesus said, ‘Whoever becomes simple and elemental again,
like this child, will rank high in God’s kingdom.’ (Matthew 18:3 Msg)
He said it to the
disciples who are asking about rank order in God’s Kingdom. Messy competitiveness,
jealousy, a jostling for position, fraying of friendships and fracturing
relationships. Anything but simple!
Jesus answers by
calling a child over to stand amongst them and tells them all to go back to
square one.
As that small
child stood, perhaps shyly, in the midst of all those adults, what did he or
she see in their faces when those words were spoken?
Puzzlement?
Incomprehension? Shame?
The flat ground
in square one puts everyone on the level.
The only person
who can and does stand above us, taking the highest honour in God’s kingdom, is
the only person who knows best how to live with a child’s fresh, simplicity of
heart. It is anything but a slight thing, when he loves us.
It is the most
profoundly moving and life transformative moment when we stop and actually listen
to him telling us,
‘I like you’
‘I made you, you
are mine’
‘You are
precious to me.’
‘You are my
child.’
‘I love you’.
We are disarmed.
Become.
So there we
stood. One big person. One little person. Thirty eight years my junior and he
was doing a much better job of being present in the moment, speaking simply and
honestly. A disciple being
pulled up short and humbled. Back to square one it is.
I imagine the
conversation changed as the disciples all moved off. When we hear Jesus say words
like that to us, how does the process of becoming begin?
Do we become
more able to face each other and speak with sincerity without the need to
dissemble?
Do we become more
able to turn to the person beside us and speak words of love, encouragement and
affection?
Do we experience
moments of true personal connection because we are deeply and personally connected
to Jesus?
The letters of
the New Testament give evidence that yes we do. Those first disciples
experienced and went through the process of becoming simple and elemental
again. They rank high in the kingdom of God.
Children looking
up at the face of Jesus.
14 May 2016
Benches
Be at peace. Rest a while.
Dead ends make you feel a bit cheated. A path should
take you somewhere instead of ending abruptly, leaving you seemingly nowhere. A sense of expectancy or
adventure can turn into annoyance at simply having to turn back.
At the end of this path is a
bench.
You haven’t arrived anywhere in particular, the path simply stops but you’re invited to sit down. If you take up the invitation, you then immediately wonder why you did. All you can see is the path you’ve just travelled along and the scenery of a dead end which really isn’t all that attractive, at least not at this time of the year anyway. The trees are still mostly bare, the ground is very damp and soft underfoot, there is no scenic vista, and there is no apparent reason for this to be a place to have either travelled to or to spend any time lingering.
You haven’t arrived anywhere in particular, the path simply stops but you’re invited to sit down. If you take up the invitation, you then immediately wonder why you did. All you can see is the path you’ve just travelled along and the scenery of a dead end which really isn’t all that attractive, at least not at this time of the year anyway. The trees are still mostly bare, the ground is very damp and soft underfoot, there is no scenic vista, and there is no apparent reason for this to be a place to have either travelled to or to spend any time lingering.
Pointless, slightly frustrating,
a waste of time until…
you close your eyes.
and listen.
By not concentrating on what you
can see, you become more aware of what you can hear.
A bubbling stream. Chirruping birds. A sighing, gentle breath of air. Sounds of nature that help ease out the tension in your shoulders, encourage you to inhale a little slower, a little deeper, soothing mind, body and soul.
A bubbling stream. Chirruping birds. A sighing, gentle breath of air. Sounds of nature that help ease out the tension in your shoulders, encourage you to inhale a little slower, a little deeper, soothing mind, body and soul.
Maybe there is something worth
paying attention to here after all, and in order to notice it, you have to stop
moving, and stop concentrating on just the path.
Our focused, determined strides
don’t always take us where we intended. Life can be full of dead ends. Pathways
that don’t seem to have led anywhere at all.
We come to the end of our energy.
The end of our ideas. The end of our plans. The end of our theology. The end of
our prayers. The end of ourselves and we find a bench waiting for us in the
spot.
What if we stop for a moment, sit
down and wait before moving on.
What if God is inviting us to sit
down for a little while, to close our eyes and simply listen. What if he has
been walking beside us the whole time and he has made sure that there is a bench at the end of the path. A spot for us to simply rest,
breath, and listen.
The soft cooing of a gentle dove
ministers to our spirit, the soughing of a holy wind through the unattractive
bare branches of our thoughts clears the mind, and the sound of living water
that flows from the deep places reminds us of all that is pure and true.
Eventually we have to get back on
our feet and keep walking, sometimes backwards, sometimes forwards but
whichever way it is, there will surely always be a bench when and where we need
it.






