Throwback Thursday: Receiving Fire

It is pretty interesting - often profound - to think of what Jesus is looking at when he is saying something. There is research suggesting, for example, that when Jesus talks about having the faith to move mountains into the sea, it is quite possible he is looking at a mountain made by the power-hungry and self-obsessed King Herod. Colors the passage a bit, right? Today I wondered about something Jesus said:
Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it. -Luke 18.17

Normally we think of a child jumping into the arms of a loving parent. Or a child believing anything you say. They receive love and acceptance and cookies. The verse strikes me most often as a warm and inviting way of relating the trust children have implicitly in us as a model for our own trust in God, which is an incredibly meaningful understanding of those words.

But today I was thinking of how our son receives fire.

We were spending time with our life group tonight celebrating a Latvian teenager's half-birthday, because that is just something we do. When you have a party outside, s'mores make everything better, and fire helps. There was a good-sized fire going, and our almost-three-year-old, of course, immediately made a dash for it, wanted to put stuff in it, and generally wanted to be as dangerously close to it as I would let him be. Marshmallows, sadly, were lost, and sparks flew quite literally.

And Jesus' words began haunting me, like they do if you listen to them, take them into your guts, and let them fester. (In a good way, people!) Children receive things easily and completely. All things. Even (and maybe especially) dangerous things.

Asher had absolutely NO regard for the danger of the fire. For its heat. For the risks inherent to weaponizing a poker intended for mallow-roasting and flinging sparks like less-than-charming fireflies into a summer gathering of friends. He lived near the fire with total joy and a complete absence of fear.

Was Jesus sitting around a fire watching a dad hold back a three-year-old from the danger in front of him? Is this disregard for danger, an open embrace of risks barely-known (if at all), something of the kind of receiving Jesus invites us into as he calls us into his upside-down Kingdom?

Maybe.

I do know that this dream of planting Hopesprings in Sioux City is something I have referred to as "stupid". Stupid in the sense that it is risky, dangerous, and a leap into the unknown. Stupid in the eyes of some (including oftentimes myself) who want more certainty, diagrams, and an assurance that this will 'work'. It is a wild, unknown, and dangerous thing. I am thankful we have a Good Dad protecting us from the fire.

Yet he is also kindling in us a powerful vision of the kingdom of God realized in a city, in neighborhoods, in the lives of people captivated by the love of God on a dangerous mission of rescue. The mission that His son received, that killed Him, and that ultimately resulted not just in His resurrection but in mine, and the resurrection of people and communities willing to receive the good, crazy, upside-down news.

I want to receive things more like Asher does. He made me a little less afraid of the fire and a little more joyful on the journey we are on together.