In my line of work, I frequently have to come up with ways to entertain large amounts of children for an
extended period of time. Frustrated by competing with the fantasy world of video games and the constant lure of cell phones, there are days I return home hoarse and exhausted from trying to out-entertain touch screens and 3D animation. Today however, something different happened...
As I stepped onto the playground of Amelia Earhart elementary, listening to Humberto rattle off the latest details of some cartoon show, I pulled a tennis ball out of my backpack and began bouncing it up and down. Immediately he stopped what he was saying, scampered about six feet to the side, held his hands up and yelled, "Catch!" So I bounced the ball to him.
"Ooh, ooh - toss the ball to me!" cried Francisco. Kids began clambering around this tennis ball as it soared, bounced, and rolled all over the blacktop. Cyndy and Margaret ran up to me:
"Miss Rachel, what are you playing? Can we play?"
"Sure! We're just throwing and bouncing the ball around. If it comes near you, grab it and do something with it!"
Kids kept coming up asking about this "game" we were playing and before long, over half of the fourth and fifth grade class were all jubilantly engaged in the simplicity of a single tennis ball; a common two-and-a-half inch ball covered with green fuzz drawing in 40 kids in a flash. We darted all over the blacktop almost as fast as the smiles flashing across kids faces. We even had a beautiful moment of teamwork as we pyramid-ed a kid up to the basketball hoop where the ball had gotten stuck. And not once did I see kids arguing or fighting over who got to throw or catch next, but they joyfully shared together.
As I walked away from recess, pondering the magnetism of this fuzz ball, I was reminded of the power and simplicity of the gospel. Sometimes I try so vigorously to decorate and dress up the gospel, working hard to prove its relevance and shininess. I think we all walk away from that exhausted and unconvinced that the masses actually saw our good news as better than the American "good news," which promises an easy, comfortable, self-centered life full of instant gratification.
We need to be reminded once again of the simple beauty of the gospel, that "through the life, death, and resurrection of Christ, God is making all things new both personally for those who repent and believe, and cosmically as He redeems culture and creation"* from it's brokenness. This is
not more entertaining than MTV, Sunday Night Football, or Thursday night's finest, but it
is far superior. Or as Paul would say, "Yes, everything else is worthless when compared with the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord" (Phil. 3:8).
And the kids showed me how to test whether or not we're living out this simple gospel. Are people running up asking, "What are you doing? Can I play?" Is the Church working together, sharing what they have with great joy, and effortlessly attracting those who are far away? Or do people see us and say, "Oh yeah, I like that kind of music so I'll come for a bit," or "This is just the program that I was looking for to fill my Tuesday evenings." Is the attraction to Jesus the fancy life He offers and the high-quality sound system on Sunday mornings? Or is the attraction to Jesus the joy of chasing this life-changing gospel, knowing with confidence that all things will be made new and that there are millions of glee-filled, blacktop warriors running along with me?
So I ask you, wanna play?
*Chandler, Matt, et al.
2012 Creature of the Word. Nashville: B&H Publishing Group.
