the faith of a child…

Me and this blogging thing seem to be having issues at the moment. A lot of it is just life with a toddler I think – life is many things with young Isaac, but dull is not one of them!

A large part of it though, is that I tend to blog about faith related things, and I’ve been going through one of “those” times. Not doubting, exactly. Disillusionment, perhaps. The church can sometimes be – well, silly. I mean, think about it. We gather each week to listen to a man in a dress talk to us about a guy who lived over 2000 years ago. We sing strange songs – sometimes with ACTIONS – what sane adults do that? – and interupt the service to walk around shaking hands with each other. Really good Anglicans can even do that without touching – impressive, if nothing else…

Yeah, I’m exaggerating a bit. But it’s all seemed a bit – I don’t know, maybe irrelevent is the right word.


The other week, I was in London with my little sister (so little that she’s 27 and taller than me, but perhaps we’ll ignore that!) and whilst down there, I went to St. Francis’, the church I went to when we stayed in London a few months ago.

It was an all age service, which scare me at the best of times. All that jollity tends to do my head in. But then – the sermon was about Jesus. Odd in a church, I know. But about how He made himself the least, because he loves us. And as a response, the guy giving the sermon invited us to write down the names of people we wanted to experience God’s love, and to drop it in a basket standing by a cross.

I write mine down, drop it in, sit back in my seat. Then I notice something. My sister had been looking after Isaac during the service for me (she gets to spend time with him and I get to listen to a whole service – bonus!), and as she walks up to the cross to put her names in the basket, Isaac goes up with her. He puts a drawing he’s made of mummy and daddy in the basket.

Now, my son is 2. He wouldn’t know atonement theology if it came up in the street and bit him, and he thinks “the cross” is mummy when he throws food around on the carpet (he’s right, too!) Isaac’s faith can be boiled down to “God made the world, and God loves me”.

And yet, in this weird faith we follow, that’s enough. It doesn’t matter that he’s two. It doesn’t matter that to most of the world around him, his opinions don’t mean nearly as much as the adults do. He wanted God to look after mummy and daddy – and God not only honours that prayer, but he’s so excited that Isaac’s making it. He doesn’t need theology, or all the answers – none of us do.

Yeah, faith, God, the church – all a bit silly. But it’s a silly that turns the world upside down.

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One Response to the faith of a child…

  1. Nothing brings the Christian faith home like the faith of a small child!

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