The Five Little Fingers of God
I’m at the age where I want to revisit the touch and smell of a little baby. So on those wondrous days when we mark the birth of a church baby through a child/parent dedication, I get the sweet privilege of holding the baby in my arms as we say the words of a litany that describes our holy calling together. It’s holy because we hold a life in our arms as we speak and it’s holy because the power and privilege of raising a child is one God gives us through creation and procreation.In a strange and wonderful mystery, we hold the future in our arms if you consider all that is held in the potentiality of what might happen in the one we hold so tenderly. Utterly amazing!
Parents and church join together to say the words of commitment that we will come together to pledge to God and to one another our faithfulness to that calling. “This child,” we say grandly, “will be loved. This child will be given the holy gift of our faith. We pledge to God to make it so.”
So I take the baby in my arms and walk into the center of the church talking to the child as I walk. The child doesn’t know what I’m saying because all words are gibberish to her – probably because she doesn’t know any language other than warmth and love and the sweet exchange that occurs when old eyes look deep into her fresh new eyes that are just now embracing this world outside the warm wet womb. In that moment I talk to the child as if she understands every word I’m saying.
Sitting on the aisle not far from the front row sits Bonnie, a woman who loves this church with a pure heart … a woman who is herself a grandmother and perfectly prepared to love this child as one of her own. I point out across the aisle from her sits Jack watching her with a wisdom that knows to love with a kind word meant to warm the soul. Near the back sits Charlene, a woman who ran our daycare center for two and a half decades. As one of our charter members, she raised her own children here. Now her children have kids who have grown older and one of them is even ready to birth her first great-grandchild this winter. Charlene has a grace and a goodness about her that I want this child to know. Charlene sees the world as an adventure. She has a generous faith in this ever-perilous adventure called “the church.” These and many more are the saints who will love this child unconditionally.
I always pass by the Middle School and High School kids who usually sit together. I want them to know they’re included in this high holy moment. Sophia Lyon Fahs once wrote, “Every night a child is born is a holy night.” I want them to know life is a gift from God and to understand that if I live right, a few years from now it’ll be their baby I’m holding out to the church to love.
My friend Birdie works in the nursery to love on babies regularly. One day I told her I appreciated how faithful she was to teaching Sunday School to the Infant Class. “Sunday School? Is that what I’m doing? I thought it was my job to hug the babies, change their little diapers and feed them when they were hungry! I thought Sunday School was when we sat around a table and had a boring discussion about anything but the Bible.”
“You know what I mean … you’re teaching them about God when you do those things. That’s the lesson for them. They need to know when they come to church someone will hug them and whisper sweet things in their ears and look deep into their eyes with pure love. If that happens, we’ll be doing the best thing we can do. We’re loving them like God loves all of us.”
“Not bad Mister Tall Steeple pastor. Maybe we should put up a sign in the churchyard: ‘Free Hugs and Sweet Words!’ Maybe that would bring in the lost and lonely from our neighborhood.”
Indeed. When we dedicate a child to God, a holy hush descends upon us and calls out our better natures. I think holding a baby in our arms melts all our cynical defenses and forces us to love. Young wet eyes alive with wonder remind us of what we’ve forgotten and call us to remember there’s a price to growing older. We’re given a sacred gift whenever a baby clings to our finger and holds tight with a gleam in his eyes that says, “I’m here! Love me! Be someone I can trust!”
“Preacher, it’s Advent again. Tell the people God loves them. Remind them that Jesus was born just like this. The five little fingers of God wrapped tightly around the world with eyes drinking it all in as though it was the first day of creation. Walk Jesus around in the Sanctuary and introduce him to us so we’ll remember to welcome him with the promise we’ll love him and be there as followers upon whom he can rely to tell the world of his love.”
Indeed.
December 3rd, 2008 at 4:02 pm
Wow, this is beautiful. I’m featuring it at CCblogs today.