As part of our family’s Thanksgiving gathering we went to a Christmas lightshow in Portland. It was at a place called ‘The Grotto’. I didn’t know where that was, which is no surprise since we don’t know Portland very well. A grotto was a kind of cave. Was there a cave in Portland that had a light show?
Yes, there was such a place. It was on the grounds of a Catholic retreat center called The National Sanctuary of Our Sorrowful Mother of the Order of the Friar Servants of Mary. It was built on grounds that included a volcanic cliff. In this cliff was a grotto in which there was a copy of Michaelangelo’s Pieta, among other statues.
I was surprised that the light show was in such a religious place. All the trees were lighted to make an immersive Christmas environment.
There were some things there that reminded me why I am a Protestant and not a Catholic. While I try to be as ecumenical as I can and try to get along with all Trinitarian believers, there are some things about Catholicism that I just can’t accept.
There were lots of statues there. Statues can be controversial; Catholics are big on them, Protestants aren’t. But here the statues were a good thing because in this case they prompted a conversation between me and my granddaughter, Luciana.
Luciana is five years old. I was carrying her on my shoulders as we walked amidst the lights and statues. We saw scenes where Jesus was carrying the cross, another of Him being crucified, and others of Him being buried and resurrected. She asked about those things. I was able to talk to her about how Jesus died to forgive our sins and that He is alive now in heaven. The conversation was not planned, it just happened. Later, I thought it was by far the most meaningful thing about the whole event.
This was not Luciana’s first encounter with the faith. Alice and I live close enough to the grandkids (three out of the four, the other is in Ohio) that we bring them to church with us. We want them to form a positive view of Christianity early in their lives, and to become believers early.
The world would consider my conversation with Luciana to be a small thing (and it was, in a way). And personally, there was once a time in my past when I wouldn’t have thought a grandpa talking about Jesus with his granddaughter to be a big deal. But somewhere along the line my perspective changed.
Conversations about the church often emphasize attendance, buildings and dollars. But God does not see things as man sees. What we consider important He may consider worthless and what we consider worthless He might consider important.
Jesus put great importance on children. He seemed far more concerned about them that He did about ‘bigness’ or ‘success’. Jesus held up a child as an example. He said, “…whoever welcomes a little child like this in my name welcomes me. But if anyone causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a large millstone hung around his neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea,” (Matthew 18:5-6). God is looking out for the ‘little ones’.
In the next chapter, Jesus continued in his pro-child line: “Then little children were brought to Jesus for him to place his hands on them and pray for them. But the disciples rebuked those who brought them. Jesus said, ‘Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these’,” (Matthew 19:13-14).
Something tells me that a single conversation with a child asking spiritual questions might be more important than a lot of the big-ticket stuff we hear about going on in modern American Christianity.
Bigness alone (and the subtle bragging that often goes with it) is not impressive to God. I saw a quote on Facebook this morning that said, “Following Jesus once meant speaking truth to power. Modern Christianity is budgets, buildings and bank accounts,” (Jim Palmer). Harsh, but too often true.
‘Big Christianity’ sometimes looks suspiciously like the secular business world. Numerical goals are made, budgets are approved, fund-raising targets are set (I don’t know how many fund-raising appeals I’ve gotten this week, but it was quite a few). Payrolls must be met, administration done, buildings maintained. That might be necessary, but the institutionalism can easily take over and blind us to the whole point of why Jesus established the church. Sometimes, when churches or denominations fear they’ve forgotten why they were supposed to exist, they hire a PR firm to help them devise a mission statement. Ugh.
We need to learn from our Master, Jesus. He had no budget, no building, and rode a humble donkey into Jerusalem.
He looked after the ‘little ones’. We must too.
We should try to influence children as much as we can. Christmas provides good opportunities for that. We can mention the star on top of the Christmas tree, which represents the star the Magi followed. Or, if there is an angel on top of the tree, we can talk about the angel’s announcement to the shepherds of the Savior born in Bethlehem. When a child sees a manger scene on a table, we can explain why everyone is crowding around the baby lying in the hay.
Children are more pliable and open. People tend to get set in their ways when as they get older. They are harder to influence. They might think they have it all figured out. Some are arrogant, hardening themselves against spiritual arguments.
Better to reach them while they are young before they think they know everything. What else matters as much as the soul of a child?