Today is one of those especially graced day. Every day is graced in that it is a gift, but today I feel especially graced. I got to spend the morning with our youngest granddaughter who will be four later this month. We went to the zoo and then to McDonalds for her to climb and socialize in the play area. On the way to and from the zoo I got the opportunity to introduce her to the world of folk music, particularly Peter, Paul and Mary. She listened and tried to join in the singing of Kum Ba Yah, If I Had a Hammer, We Shall Overcome and Puff, the Magic Dragon. Some of the songs she has heard her older sisters sing. I’m sure that a lot of it went over her heard or in one ear and out the other, but you never know. Hopefully she was a bit more sensitized to freedom songs. But as I was listening to Puff, the Magic Dragon, I was reminded of how the song is a celebration of the imagination and a sad lament on how it is often lost when we get older. Angelina has a great imagination and I hope she never loses it. But it’s an uphill struggle. The world, as the poet says, is too much with us. As we grow, we get jaded to the wonder of the world around us. Yes, there is so much evil in the world and so much childish stuff that we have to put off as we “grow up”, but I think we really lose something when we have lost our sense of wonder.
This reminded me of something Brennan Manning talks about in his book, Souvenirs of Solitude: Finding Rest in Abba’s Embrace. In a chapter entitled “Christmas Reflections at O’Hare” he relates a time when he and many other passengers were stranded in Chicago’s O’Hare airport because of a winter storm (been there, done that). As he looked around he saw that many of the passengers shared his turmoil and growing anger. But across the aisle from him he saw a middle-aged black woman cradling a child. And she was laughing! Intrigued, Manning crossed the aisle and found himself staring at the woman. She was rubbing her fingers across the child’s lips as he blew mightily “brrh, brrh.” She looked up. Manning spoke: “Ma’am, you’re the only person in this place who seems to be together. Would you mind telling me why you’re so happy?” “Sho,” she said, “Christmas is coming and dat Jesus---He make me laugh!”
Manning thanked her, recrossed the aisle and slumped into his seat. “Dat Jesus—He make me laugh!” he repeated to himself. And then he raises some questions that we might do well to ask ourselves. He asked: Am I getting too serious about life? In the hurly burly of the marketplace have I let my childlike sense of wonder fade? Have I stopped looking at sunsets and rainbows? Am I so lost in preaching, teaching, writing, traveling that I no longer hear the sound of rain on the roof? How long since I stopped making snowballs and flying kites?
He goes on to remind us that Christmas is the good news that God has invade our world and life cannot/should not ever be seen the same way again. God comes into history and comes daily in mystery. And this God will one day come in glory. These are his words: “God is saying in Jesus that in the end everything will be all right. Nothing can harm you permanently, no suffering is irrevocable, no loss is lasting, no defeat is more than transitory, no disappointment is conclusive. Jesus did not deny the reality of suffering, discouragement, disappointment, frustration, and death; He simply stated that the kingdom of God would conquer all of these horrors, that the Father’s love is so prodigal that no evil could possibly resist it.”
If, Manning challenges us, we can accept the mystery of Bethlehem, our lives can be filed with the laughter of God. And there can be a rebirth of wonder in our lives.
Oh, and the second reason today is an especially graced day? It is my wife’s birthday. And each and every day her presence reminds me of how rich my life is and I am struck by how great a gift God gave me when I found Connie. But that is a story for another time.
Blessings.
