December 29, 2009

Suddenly the sound of a crash careened through the room.  On the ground was a small china plate, cleanly broken in two.  And a lesson was about to be learned.

There are two stories I wish to write about today.  But before we delve into the story of a broken plate, let’s turn to the story of some very confused men.  Allow me to point you to Matthew 18: 1-5.  I’ll post it here in Today’s New International Version.

1 At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, “Who, then, is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?”

2 He called a little child, whom he placed among them. 3 And he said: “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. 4 Therefore, whoever takes a humble place—becoming like this child—is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. 5 And whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.

Confusing?  Isn’t it?  What does it mean to become like a child?  And why should we be humble?  In today’s America, humble is something that is likened to a false sincerity.  You don’t acknowledge out loud how spectacular you are, but everyone knows you know it, so that you act like you are less is just that.  An act.

But children don’t act.  They are the most honest humans of all in their actions.

Let’s return to the initial story I began telling.  It is a story of me.  And my daughter.  She is, at the time, a beautiful and incredible three year old girl, who finds absolutely everything marvelous.
On this day she is enjoying a very special gift given to her by my mother.  It is a real china tea set.  Not just a plastic children’s set.  I had thought it too much for her, but wasn’t going to deny such a gift after my little one saw it and fell in love.

As young girls her age are apt to do, she immediately wanted to get it out and have a tea party with dad.  A request I just was not able to deny.  She poured the tea for me, set out the plates with the bread.  And we sat down for a little pretend lunch.  And something happened.  It might have been a phone ringing, or a knock at the door.  But I stood up for just one moment, looked away for the briefest second, and that’s when I heard it.

Crash.  Shatter.  The plate fell to the ground, broken into two perfect halves. And then I heard something that nearly broke my heart.

My daughter began to cry.  This is a father’s true weakness.  No man can stand firm in the face of this sound.

But then my daughter did two things that surprised me.

First she exclaimed through her tears, “I am so sorry, please don’t punish me.”

I was shocked.  My daughter is well behaved, and I can only think of one time when I had ever had to even spank her.  I could not and still can not think of any reason why she’d believe I’d punish her for what was an accident.  Little children will drop plates.  How wonderful and strange is a child though. She didn’t try to hide it, or lie.  She took full responsibility, almost too much responsibility.  How unlike an adult.

And then she gave me my second surprise.  After so quickly apologizing and seeking escape from a dreamed punishment, she lifted up her arms.  Seeking to be held, comforted, seeking the one person present who could make everything better.

How often does a human seek comfort from the very person who they believe might punish them?  How often is the man holding the whip also the man who holds safety?

But it was the act of a child, a lesson that I believe illustrates Jesus’ words so perfectly.

Humans, whether you believe they are born with sin or without, do sin.  We’ve all done it.  We’ve all done –something-.  Whether it was by accident, or on purpose.  The sooner we acknowledge what we’ve done wrong, the better.  Then we can ask for forgiveness. And then we can seek comfort.

Because God is a parent.  THE Parent.  He is like a Father.  And a Mother.  And His love is more complete, more full, than anything any human could manage.
Do you know what I did when my daughter reached up her arms and silently asked for me to pick her up?  To hold her?  To make it all better?  I didn’t punish her.  The thought never crossed my mind.  I didn’t scold her.  I didn’t have a single negative word to say.

I immediately picked up my daughter and held her close.  Dried her tears. And I did everything I could to make it ok.  I glued the plate.  I assured her over and over that it was ok. That I wasn’t mad.  That I loved her.

How could I do anything else?

And THAT my dear reader is the nature of God too.  He created us.  He loves us.  And whether your plate is literal or figurative, whether it’s your heart, your life, your sins, or anything else.  I promise you.  I guarantee you.  If you say today “I am sorry.  Please forgive me.” And reach out your arms to be taken in by Him.  He won’t hesitate.

A Father never could.