The Gospel of Luke

So I got back a week ago from a trip to Minnesota to attend a conference at Luther Seminary. I stayed with my friends Blair (former Associate Rector at my church here in Northern Virginia, current Rector of St. Matthew's Church in urban St. Paul), Dwight (Blair's husband, a doctoral student at Luther and probably the best theological teacher I've ever met), and Luke (their 2 1/2 year old son and the subject of this post).

Luke is without a doubt the happiest child I've ever encountered. Every moment for him seems to be a new delight. He runs around all day long with a huge grin on his face, absolutely convinced that every thing he finds and every person he meets will be the bearer of good news. (And then he sleeps all night, Hallelujah!) :-) A lot of kids that age seem to have learned a little bit of apprehension; they aren't too sure whether what's around the corner might be good news or bad news. If there isn't actual harm in store, it's quite possible that the next thing might be a thwarting of their plans, a limiting of their fun, or just something far, far short of the non-stop party that, ideally, a child's life should be. And many kids seem to wear this apprehension on their faces much of the time, and to spend a good deal of time and energy trying to make sure that their fun quotient remains as high as possible at all times, even if they sometimes have to make themselves and everyone around them miserable to accomplish that. (I write as a non-parent, and I don't hate kids, but admit it. Kids do this.)

But not Luke. It's not that he gets everything he wants, or gets to do everything he wants; it's just that nothing in his life seems to have shaken his confidence that life will consist of one joyous blessing after another. It isn't his job to make sure the blessings keep coming. It doesn't need to be. They just come.

God, grant me that kind of faith! Grant me that kind of joi de vivre! But in all honesty, I have to say that when I reflect on this (as I have since spending time with Luke), I'm overwhelmed by the extent to which that prayer has already been answered in my life since I became a Christian.

OK, minor side trip, which I think is necessitated by my use of the phrase "became a Christian." It raises a bunch of questions. Do I believe in the reality of the experience of being "born again" or "born from above" (Gospel of John, chapter 3)? I truly do. Do I consider myself a "born-again Christian"? Yes, I do. Can I point to a single day or moment when I experienced this new beginning. Nope. Can I point to a year or several-month period during which I became "born again"? Yes, I can, and contrary to much of the theology of my Anglican tradition (and also Orthodox, Roman Catholic, and much of mainline Protestant tradition), I don't believe it was when I was baptized as an infant. It was in early 2003, when I truly began to trust and have confidence in Jesus Christ and to sense the activity of the Holy Spirit in my life.

For Luke, though, maybe it really did happen at baptism, or even in the womb, as he was bathed almost constantly in his mom's prayers. I don't know. But I do know that since I was "born from above", I've become a lot more like Luke. I thought about this as I reflected on the summer that just ended. I remember clearly looking back on waning summers in the '90's and even early 2000's and evaluating them like this: how much fun did I have? Life's short, so it was a good summer if I got to an amusement part at least once, got to the beach and swam, went to a Ren Faire, saw a lot of movies, etc. I was like the average child: the meaning of life, as far as I could discern it, was to make sure I was maximally entertained.

But as I looked back at this summer, I thought: gee, I wanted to get to an amusement park this year. Oh well. I didn't go to the movie theater much this year. Maybe next year. This summer, and indeed most of the last three years, has been marvelous, and not because they've been chock-full of non-stop entertainment. I've been living more like Luke: open eyes, open heart, open arms to embrace whatever life has in store for me next. I'm busy trying to follow the Spirit wherever She leads, and while it's not an endless party, it is wonderful. Literally, this kind of life keeps me, like Luke, in an almost constant state of wonder. I've got a long way to go (Philippians 3:12-14), but I'm really starting to get an idea of what Jesus was talking about in the Gospel of John when he spoke about "eternal life" or "life to the full".

If you ever have the chance to meet Luke, you'll get to see exactly what I'm talking about. Of course, Luke's life won't be all blessings. Nobody's life is. His faith in the universe will be tested. And so will mine. I've experienced some bad things in life (clinical depression chief among them), but I've yet to suffer in my life of faith. The testimony of the Bible and most Christians I know tell me that this is inevitable. I don't really have a lot of confidence in my own ability to weather adversity. But I'm not counting on me. And having spent a few days with Luke, I don't think the negatives he faces in life will break his essential confidence and joy. Bend them, maybe, but not break. It's who he is.

And I really think it's becoming who I am. So when the time comes for me to take up my cross, God, please help me to remember the Gospel of Luke: that life is Good News, life to the full, life eternal, and it's not my job to make it that way if I have confidence in the One who is the source of all blessings. Amen.