…and a little child shall lead them. Isaiah 11:6
A redwood grove in the Santa Cruz mountains, a determined child, a simple tool to break the ice.
The Annual All-Church Retreat.
We were each given a little book, assembled like a passport. “Have as many people sign it as possible (like a stamp from each port of call), and as you exchange signatures, take a few moments to get to know each another.”
Some left the passports in their rooms, pages blank and forgotten, but others were more cooperative, awkwardly tapping shoulders of people they had never met.
Then there was Jason, six years old, but wise in his intuitive grasp of what was needed. Passport and pencil in hand, he wandered the camp, approaching each of us in turn. Earnest, purposeful, he spent the weekend covering the pages of his book–name after name.
Saturday evening the leaders awarded a prize for most signatures gathered–a teenaged girl raised her arms in triumph. Jason was undeterred–the prize was not what mattered.
At the late-night concert I watched him walking up and down the aisles, pointing to each person in turn, searching his memory, silently pursuing. Stepping over our feet to claim one more for the book, he seemed oblivious to the music or the propriety of his actions. His mom told me Jason was normally shy, and uncertain around strangers. I was filled with wonder at his tender, tenacious spirit.
What The Passport Reveals
Sunday morning found Jason still looking–145 names, but was there someone he had missed? We gathered in a grove of redwoods for the closing service–worship, praise, communion, sharing. The pastor asked, “What do you want to thank God for?”
A lonely widow stood, tears streaming down her face. “Bless you, whoever gave us this way to welcome each other. So many Sundays I try in vain to catch just one person’s eye. Everyone is so busy, rushing off with things to do. It meant so much to have many of you approach me. Please, let’s keep doing this.”
A young man, awkward and slow of speech, grabbed the microphone and agreed, “You were all so nice to me! I’m used to people being mean. Thank you.” He cried, too and told us he loves us.
Others stood, the sharing continued.
But the leaders were choked up, something holy was happening. Someone was there, tapping on our shoulders, tugging on our hearts. We grew silent–no one knew how to express in words what we felt.
It crossed my mind we should take off our shoes.
Drew was asked to close the service. He hesitated a moment and stood, holding something above his head. “Here is my benediction: I have in my hand Jason’s passport. We are all in it. No one is left out, we all matter.”
What else was there to say?
Christ walked among us in the guise of a little boy one weekend. And we, his church, for one shining moment looked just like Him.
How many names are in your passport?
[I shared this story my church’s newsletter eleven years ago. Congratulations to Jason, now a high school graduate! Years have passed, but the Spirit of Christ still pursues, pointing to each one of us in turn…]
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12 replies on “A Passport, A Pencil And A Child”
I remember this weekend and love that you have called us to this again… It’s so easy to get caught up in our own “worlds” and forget to even look at the person sitting next to us.
Mary Beth, I was hoping some Hillsiders would see this–those who taught me about community!
Hunting is an inherently cttpeoimive activity (man versus animal). Gathering can be cttpeoimive if resources are scarce but it’s not inherently cttpeoimive (woman versus plant?). So sports, which are inherently cttpeoimive, are by their very nature always going to be more like hunting than gathering.But “gathering” isn’t the sum total of what women did thousands of years ago or do today. It’s not what most interests women today, and it’s probably not what most interested them (or played the greatest role in their survival and the survival of their offspring) thousands of years ago.There’s a reason reality television, which focus on social competition, building relationships, creating alliances and breaking competing alliances, etc., is popular with women. My thoroughly non-scientific non-statistically-relevant impression, based on perusing a few message boards, is that passionate fans of reality television are overwhelmingly female. I think there’s a reason for that that is the flip-side of why passionate football fans are overwhelmingly male.
I simply love this….that is it…I am speechless…thats it!
The indefinable “it” that’s makes all the difference!
The type of physician I would like to work for is a Pediatrician. Pediatrician’s splitaecy is to work with children. I have been working with children for a long time mainly because I work at a daycare facility. I’ve got to a point where I feel like I can handle anything that will come my way with them. It would also leave me feeling good at the end of the day to know that I have helped in some way to make a child feel better.The type of physician I would not care to work for is a Epidemiologist. Epidemiologist’s specialize in epidemics caused by infections agents and also work with sexually transmitted diseases. I feel if I were to work in this type of splitaecy I would be putting my self at risk of exposure to these infectious agents. Also I would be focusing a lot of my time on trying to not get infected instead of having a steady mind on what I was actually supposed to be doing.
Possibly my favorite post. I know, I know, I’ve said that before…..but wow, Janet. WOW! This is the key – the answer – to so much. Why are we continually missing it?
Thanks Susan. Good question!
I remember too! And the tears came back fresh as I went back in my mind to that special weekend, in that divine place, with that bunch of very loved and still missed group of family.
Jennifer, so great to see you here! Another Hillside ex-pat. 🙂
Thank you, Janet, for reminding me of that great retreat…it was a very special weekend.
Hugs to you, Chris! Thanks for remembering with me.