Concrete

The actors on stage did their best “thousand mile stare.”

Looking far into the distance, they gave their best descriptions of the beautiful castle that lay upon the remote hillside.

They spoke of its shining spires and magnificent lines. Instantly, 200 heads whipped around to take in the awesome sight.

…I’m a grown-up, so of course, my head did not turn.

Suddenly, I was confronted by 200 confused little faces, their eyes staring just over my head to the back wall of the theatre. They looked back at the actors who still gazed longingly toward “the castle.” They looked back at the wall, back at the actors, then back at the wall again.

The mom sitting behind me started to giggle uncontrollably.

I now know that there’s nothing quite like watching a play with a theatre full of six, seven and eight-year olds.

They react to a play very differently than we grown folks do.

They have a lot more fun. Generally speaking, I think they have a lot more fun than we do at most everything.

Why not, after all? No bills to pay, no job responsibilities, no kids of their own to raise and worry about. No office politics, no church politics, no local, national or international politics for that matter, either.

But being a chaperone for my son’s field trip to the Alliance Theatre yesterday taught me that the “castle” moment was about more than just a lack of worries.

Kids have a wonderful penchant for “concrete thinking.” They are able to take the world as it comes --- to see it and believe it.

At adolescence, children start to form more logical thinking abilities. They can begin to think of abstract possibilities, and (my personal favorite), they can begin to “think about thinking.”

Seven year-olds are gloriously free of such burdens. The result is that their ability to enter fully into a story remains much more intact than ours does.

Yesterday, as Aladdin met and wooed Princess Jasmine, but was then arrested for theft and sent to a cave, little faces fell and brows furrowed with fear. When the Genie turned him into a prince, palpable rays of hope shone throughout the room. As the evil Jafar almost ruined the royal wedding day, I watched eyes widen with anxiety. When Aladdin tricked him, trapping him in the Genie’s bottle forever, audible cheers could be heard. Finally, as Jasmine and Aladdin were pronounced man and wife, to live happily ever after, 400 little hands clapped wildly. Their little lungs cheered with delight because all was right with the world, and good really did win-out after all.

See, they have more fun than we do. They believe.

I can’t help remembering something Jesus told his disciples:

Mark 10

13 People were bringing little children to him in order that he might touch them; and the disciples spoke sternly to them. 14But when Jesus saw this, he was indignant and said to them, ‘Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs. 15Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it.’ 16And he took them up in his arms, laid his hands on them, and blessed them. (NRSV)

“Whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it.”

I have thought for years about what Jesus might mean. How can we be child-like when there are some many things forcing us to be “adult-like” in our daily experience?

Here’s the question: Can we enter His story?

Cheers should be heard as we enter the stable of Bethlehem on Christmas Day to behold the baby, born into the world because “God so loves us.” Smiles should cross our faces as we watch Jesus receive his baptism and begin his ministry, calling his disciples, teaching transformation and healing those who hurt. Eyes should widen as we see the religious establishment of his day misunderstanding him and plotting his demise. Tears should fall when he is arrested and beaten, crucified and laid in the tomb.

And hands should clap – lungs should cheer -- at the awesome happy ending: “He is not here, he has risen!”

It is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs.

Don’t get me wrong: I love logic. I enjoy “thinking.” I believe that grown-ups should be responsible, that we should be thoughtful, that we should do the right things.

But I really wish some part of me had even thought about turning around to look for that castle yesterday. Thank God for the little kids that did. They reminded this grown-up what it means to believe.

This Sunday, those of us who worship at SOTH have a chance to turn our heads, look off into the distance, and believe. Our “Out of the Boat” discipleship series is coming to an end, and our culminating act of worship will be one of response.

Hopefully you received an “opportunities card” this past Sunday, where you can respond in many ways and offer yourself in service to “The Kingdom.” We’ll also be sending the card via e-mail this week (to those on our SOTH prayers and announcements list – e-mail sandi@sothumc.net if you’d like to be added), and cards will be available in worship this Sunday.

My hope is that we’ve presented the story faithfully ---- that you’ve put yourself in the boat with Peter and the disciples, and that you’re willing to “look” into the distance of the year ahead --- with the concrete faith of a child. As commitments are laid on the altar this Sunday, we clap our hands and shout with joy at the reality of a risen Savior.

Belief. Concrete. It’s all God asks --- God can take it, and us, from there.

Grace and Peace,

Adam