It was a total secret; one I kept from the girls while tricking them into thinking we were going shopping. Then, to their surprise, I pull into the movie theater and we take a pre-saved isle, to the newest flick, “The King of Kings”.
Pulling from my purse the candy I purchased earlier, I gazed upon the big screen; where a little boy, full of mischief, wielded a sword, wanting to slay his enemy, like King Arthur and His Knights of the Round Table.
I could somehow relate with this boy, though he was small and I was grown. He was animated, I was flesh and bone. He was male and I was the daughter of my ancestors, who took great territory with swords and ship bows with animals carved out of them.
I looked at my daughters faces; awe.
The movie continued on…
A young child created havoc in his father’s production, simply wanting attention and to be validated for the sword wielding purposes, he felt he was made for.
Oh, how I could relate.
The scene went on. A king, not grand with crown and demanding to stand in the front of cathedrals, like some power-hungry preacher, commanding his allegiance.
But a baby. Nothing more.
An unseen infant who fled the wrath of a jealous ruler. A boy preaching in the temples on Passover. A servant, asking not to baptize, but to be baptized by the filthiest dessert wanderer.
And then, the desert.
And like him, any good King, good leader, worthy person worth following, must have had their moments in the dessert, prior to their entrance.
A risen spokesperson, without their own moment of crucifixion, is just a shapeshifting talking head who preaches a message he/she doesn’t understand.
And how often have we seen clout without contriteness? Commanding voices without personal, inner sacrifices? Authoritative speaking, without humbling surrendering thy will to the only one who is actually in control?
And how many of the self-righteous gave internal scars in the hearts of their congregants, by separating innocent choices from their own inner sickness?
And while the small boy with the sword was looking for a combative king, a wild ruler who demanded the subserviency of his followers…
There was Jesus, on the big screen, becoming less, so we could be something.
I have to admit…
As I sat there watching this animated presentation where I knew all the lines, memorized the stories…
I was caught off by my own inward resistance…
To accepting a Savior who gave over His life freely. Who put aside “his right” and let himself be crucified, for the sake of the benefit of everybody.
I once heard it said, “The flesh never dies willingly.”
We all like fighting. We all have something we are willing to get in the ring and throw a few punches for.
But here was Jesus, an animated presentation, reminding me that to live, we must first be willing to die…
To be something in the eyes of God, we must first become small.
It is only then, He is magnified.
My husband and I rest in the valley of decision, as we have some big choices to make soon. Choices that will alter our lives forever. Choices that once made, we can’t ever go back on.
They are the nails in our wrists, but could they also be the Kingdom we are seeking?
Small.
Small is a word that keeps coming to my mind, lately.
I see the loud and proud. I see the influencers and those eager to plaster their faces for sound affects…or perhaps even for just one more “like”.
And I grieve what Jesus tells us; in the last days people will be lovers of themselves. (2 Timothy 3:1-5) Have we as a culture, grown to promote SELF, so much so that we have forgotten what it is like to be small?
Have we detested the idea of invisible?
Have we run from the notion that Christianity is a cross to bare, instead of a quick promotion to a bigger house, more pay, and more people bowing at our feet?
If I am honest, I don’t like the idea of small. It makes my breathe shake and I question if I am enough, in a world that has a thousand problems and yet somehow an answer for everything.
But, what if it was o.k. to not know anything? What if we weren’t like King Solomon, filled with wisdom and discernment? What if we failed to be King David, wielding the sword for the sake of our brand of Christianity?
What if Jesus was right when he told Peter to put down his sword as He grabbed the ear of his enemy, and repaired him, instead of tore him apart?
The small ones love.
I know this, I see them, wide-eyed on the isle in the movie theater, taken by this Jesus full of love and humility.
So, why am I offended?
Small.
A baby.
Small.
My own injustices.
Small.
My rights and will.
Small.
A life lacking worldly sparkle.
Yes, I long to be small. The depths that cries out to deep begs God Almighty to make me small again.
I see Jesus on the tree. Then, I see him resurrected and that little boy who loves kings, finally idolizing the One, True King.
And I want to be that child; giving up, sacrificing my idea of large ministries, grandiose temples and important people.
I know, now is the time.
My life, given over for the call of Christ.
My husband and I agree. It is time. Time to bow lower. Time to go smaller. Time to give more sacrificially to this great cause with no name.
I grab my daughters hands. They sparkle and twirl and grab ahold completely of this notion that our King Reigns fully and completely, having dominion through humility.
And I am completely lost for words.
They understand.
And I ask for discernment and help to embrace this idea that Jesus is all we need, a fresh understanding of the hope that burns in these little people that God has entrusted to me.
We drive home with deeper meaning…
The kings of this world are nothing like our Good and Righteous King.
We walk in the door. My husband asked about the movie we had just seen…
And I cling to the title as I say it with fresh enthusiasm.
We just watched, “King of Kings”.
The greatest of all Kings calling us to be weak.
And that is a lesson I am still learning…
As I put down my sword and just love.
