To Be a Kid Again

“Amen, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” Matt 18:3-4.

I have always loved kids, always wanted children of my own, and have always been drawn to those of others. They have a simplicity of thinking, a purity of thought, and intensity of passion that we all have a habit of covering up in the name of consideration and love for neighbor. They are insatiably curious, and what seems to be so mundane never ceases to amaze and entertain. Kids are obstinate at times, but they love better—more unconditionally—than any adult. These are the virtues we must possess to enter the kingdom.

God is Truth, unchanging and eternal. We often take that to mean He is complex and unknowable. But it is quite the opposite: God is not unknowable because of His complexity but His simplicity. His ways are deep, rich, and satisfying, and we can (and have) sought to know all there is to know about Him without even touching the surface. In so doing, we try to put Him in boxes that we can compartmentalize and reference, so we can explain Him to others. But we must take care to remember that He is not the sum of all these boxes. They help define Him, not the other way around. When we think simply, as children do, following the little way St. Therese of Lisieux modeled for us, we begin to know Him, and not just to know about Him.

And as we come to know Him, we begin to love him. And as we love Him, our concern for everything else begins to fade, and we can begin to describe Him in a more pure way, out of passion and understanding, not a list of pros outweighing cons. Ask a child why he loves his mother. The answer will almost inevitably be of profound simplicity. But is it not still sincerely honest? Kids don't have the need to rationalize what they know to be true.

And yet, to be “like a child” is not simply to think simply and truly. Beyond so often seeing things exactly for what they are, children see things as new every time they see them. How many hours can a little boy entertain himself with nothing but a toy truck, or a ball, or piece of string? It is so refreshing to know that we can come to Jesus and come to our faith with the same excitement, knowing that there is something new and exciting to be discovered. We can never uncover and know the glory and truth and eternal newness of Jesus; certainly not in this life.

So we must see the Father through Christ with simplicity, purity, and passion, understanding that we can never fully understand, constantly approaching Him in anticipation of rich discovery. And as His children, our love for Him is expressed exactly as we expect (or at least hope for) in ours: obedience. When we were children and teens, without exception, there were times when we resented our parents. Whether it be no dessert after dinner, an unexpected curfew, or waiting a couple extra years to get your ears pierced, we wanted what we wanted, and it was refused. We know now that such discipline was not arbitrary, but that our parents were wiser, knew better, and loved us more than we were able to love ourselves. How much more is God wise, knowing, and loving? If we love God, if we truly trust in Him, we would be fools not to seek His will and submit to it as our own.

O, Blessed Virgin,
who gave birth to the child Jesus,
and from His crib to his cross,
stayed by His side,
holding all things in your wounded heart,
teach us the obedience of God's will.
Wrap us in your arms,
presenting us, your children,
to our heavenly Father,
that we may see Him, know Him,
and, by your example—you, the handmaid of the Lord—love Him.