And now for something completely different

So, after the somewhat heavier content of the past few entries, I decided that a little breath of fresh spring air might be in order. The seasons just officially changed here in Uruguay, so to celebrate, how about something about the good times?

Not surprisingly, utter ridiculousness stalks my life just as much here as it did in the US and in Ghana. This, of course, is not the bad sort of ridiculousness - lack of meaning, irrational pain, and suchforth. No, this is just the sort of ridiculousness that leaves you laughing while also scratching your head, wondering how it is that God brought you to Point B from Point A when none of the signs seemed to point in this direction.

Take work and life at La Obra, for example. I am a 22 year old Texan, well-educated in the liberal arts, graduate of a private university, headed to seminary, hoping to continue on in biblical studies toward a Ph.D. (maybe even from an Ivy League, if they´ll have me), and I spend half of my work time operating a see-saw, imitating an ape, and breaking up the occasional fight between testy 8 year olds. It is gloriously nonsensical - an academic by nature finding ways to do the least academic things possible, and I LOVE it.

I love how nothing I learned in class has prepared me for working with these kids. There´s not one complex theological doctrine, not one historical reality, that´s taught me how to do this. Not even all my years of Spanish class helped me feel ready. I´ve never sat in a classroom and heard how to calm down two angry 2nd graders who want to tear into each other over a soccer ball, or how to smile at all of them when they come in after school, or how to to tell when this one´s had a bad day (or week or month or year or life) and when that one´s brimming over with excitement and happiness.

I remember, a year or two ago, talking in class about the passage in the Gospels where Jesus tells the disciples that they must become like little children to enter the Kingdom of Heaven. The conversation quickly turned to power dimensions and political realities, the radicalness of the Kingdom of God´s ways in the face of the Kingdom of Caesar. This conversation is worthwhile, and it is one that should be had, and I daresay one that should lead to action. However, I can´t help but wonder if there´s not some even simpler truth in it. Maybe what God wants, what God would really have us do, is take delight in the simple things that have been created here for us - a beautiful sunny day, the ability to interact with other people, a simple meal at the end of the afternoon. Maybe what God wants is for us to learn how to be content sometimes with the good surface rather than always dig for hidden, often dismal, meaning. Maybe what God wants is the sort of honesty that punches a friend over a soccer ball, then feels genuinely sorry about it, apologizes, and goes back to playing - all within the space of five minutes. Maybe that´s what becoming like a little child is like.