I was standing near our kitchen window, looking out toward the street. Two women were standing on the sidewalk in front of our house, staring down at something on the ground. The younger of the two had her cellphone out, trying to take a picture. I couldn’t see what they were looking at; it was hidden behind some of our flowering plants. Curious, I kept watching.
Various thoughts went through my head. What are they doing? Walking a dog? Is the dog taking a dump in our front yard? Are they going to clean it up? But wait — if that’s what’s happening, why is that woman taking a picture? That can’t be it…
The women took a couple of steps further up the street, stopped, and looked down again. This happened repeatedly until I finally caught sight of the object of their interest. They were keeping a close eye on a tiny toddler walking on wobbly little legs. He would totter a few steps and then stop, squatting down to inspect something that caught his eye: a flower, a twig, a bug. Mom (or so I surmised) was the one taking pictures, while Grandma made sure nothing unsanitary went into Junior’s mouth.
Seeing that little boy made me wonder about myself, about growing up: when did the world stop being so fascinating? To that toddler, our sidewalk was a world of adventure; to me, it’s just something to sweep.
The words of Jesus came to mind:
People were bringing children to Jesus so that he would bless them. But the disciples scolded them. When Jesus saw this, he grew angry and said to them, “Allow the children to come to me. Don’t forbid them, because God’s kingdom belongs to people like these children. I assure you that whoever doesn’t welcome God’s kingdom like a child will never enter it.” Then he hugged the children and blessed them. (Mark 10:13-16, CEB)
With adulthood comes knowledge and power, and with it, a concern for one’s own self-importance. The disciples probably thought their Master to be above blessing children and tried to keep the parents from bothering him. Jesus quickly and sternly corrected them, then smiled as he hugged the children to him.
“Like a child.” Jesus doesn’t explain exactly what he means. But that’s probably just as well. If he gave an explanation, we would approach it like knowledgeable adults — analyze it, dissect it, turn it into a constructive life principle we could use to fine-tune our spirituality and feel better about our progress in the Christian life.
Certainly, there’s nothing intrinsically wrong with using the intellect God has given us. But have we lost our sense of adventure? Does the gospel of God’s kingdom still evoke wonderment in us, or do we take it for granted as something we already know and turn our attention to the details of life management?
Creation is a gift for endless exploration, and behind every human life is a fascinating story.