December 19. 2012
My church is also a Pre-K through 5th grade school. Every Wednesday morning, I have chapel time with all of our students. Today, my preparation was difficult. I knew that the teachers and older students needed a hopeful word after the tragedy in Newtown, CT this past week. But I also knew our youngest students wouldn't fully know what had happened, and really didn't need to. I was tiptoeing through what to say.
I began the morning as I always do, asking for prayer requests. The entire sanctuary was filled with lifted arms and waving fingers. I picked a third grader, who asked that we pray for all the kids who died in Connecticut. All the hands went down, except for our youngest students. Curious, I started to one by one call on our kindergardeners.
"Pray for God."
"For my dog, Tessa, because she's really sick right now."
"For my grandma and grandpa because they're coming to visit me for Christmas!"
"Can we pray for all our animals?"
"Can we pray for Rudolph? He gets made fun of."
"All our people who die for us in wars."
"For our Christmas program tomorrow! So we don't get nervous and mess up!"
"Can we pray for baby Jesus? To make sure he comes on Christmas?"
The older kids sat and listened to the prayer requests of their young classmates. I watched teachers tear up and tried not to myself. It was children the same age as these babes that were taken from us last week. The innocence and unknowingness of these children made me stagger in my lesson. What to say when they've already said it all?
I prayed more fervently than I possibly ever have before, remembering each of their requests. I prayed for Rudolph and Tessa and then praying, begging God for the continued safety of our own children. And then I asked God to please make sure baby Jesus was still coming on Christmas.
I picked up four of our youngest kids and helped them to light the four Advent candles, each of them remembering from my weeks of prompting what the candles meant. We turned off the lights and just stared at the candles. And I asked the kids why it is that we light candles at Christmas time.
One child guessed that it's because our wreath looks like a birthday cake, and Christmas is Jesus' birthday. Finally, a first grader said, "It's because Jesus is our light."
Jesus is our light. And that light is brighter than any darkness. Another first grader popped up and said, "Yeah! Like when you look at the ocean at night and it's really really dark. But if there's a boat out there you can see it, because the light is brighter than the dark."
Yes, children. Because the world can become very dark sometimes. You each deserve a place that is bright and beautiful and safe. But that's not how the world is. Sometimes, it gets very dark. But it's precisely because of this, that Jesus came to us. Historians believe that 20 children were killed in Bethlehem the day Jesus was born. Jesus knows the darkness. He came to shine into it.
Our children can teach us a lot. While we mourn the loss of these young ones, let us also listen to them. Because the older kids weren't trying to explain to the younger kids what happened. They were willing to let them remain innocent in their unknowing. And there was no conversation about "why" it happened, only sadness that it did and an unspoken resolve to love one another through it.
No matter how dark the world gets, our light shines brighter. Sometimes there is nothing more to do than to search for the light. Cling to it. Insist on being near it. And pray for Rudolph.
