A Note on childlikeness and the use of fairytales

"some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again." - C.S.Lewis

Childhood is full of stories. It is full of the adventures of heroes and villains and epic tales of characters we come to love and trust as our own friends. Children learn to relate to the world through the situations portrayed in fairytales and stories. They learn to distinguish good and evil, the pitfalls of selfishness and the rewards of making right choices. They are able to witness the pain of suffering and defeat without feeling the sting of real life events. But the lessons in stories are clothed in such enchantment, there is never a thought of having learned something. Learning is the reward of engaging the tales. The stories teach without teaching. They capture the minds and hearts of children by appealing to their innate sense of adventure and curiosity.

But somewhere along the line, perhaps when being perceived as mature by peers and adults outweighed the joy of play-pretend, we put aside our delight in youthful sagas and began to engage the world head on. But Jesus, the Master Storyteller, calls us back to the posture of childlikeness. He says, in order to enter the kingdom of heaven, we must become like children. I remember praying once, "God, I want to relate to you as a young child to his father. trusting, playing together and enjoying one another." I said, "God, show me your playfulness." And what vibrancy this prayer led to in my life. It opened my eyes to see the world and God in a new way. It led to the creation of my own fairytale, "Satchel Willoughby & The Realm of Lost Things" which was cast as a loose autobiographical picture of my life with him.  I have often described this book as a children's story for adults who forgot how to be childlike. And so it is. 

Religion, on the other hand, at that time in my life had made everything about God stern and serious. Approaching God was a fearful thing and befriending him, though outwardly encouraged, was an inward tight rope, a walk of egg shells so as not to "grieve the Holy Spirit" or elicit God's anger. But this approach left no room for Jesus's directive of becoming like children. It left no room for honesty nor imperfection as we were prompted to "Be ye perfect as your heavenly father is perfect." But this demand for perfectionism only bred hiddenness in the heart and prevented the transparency and intimacy which could have brought about genuine transformation. Reading this verse in context reveals it has less to do with perfectionism and more with wholeness, inclusiveness and loving everyone as God loves them. How ironic, the system which told me of Jesus' call to childlikeness became the system preventing it from being realized. 

I knew God to be different than this stoic depiction of the old man with the white beard. I trusted him to be different. And so I approached him that way. Interesting enough, He responded. He answered my prayers to know His playfulness and welcomed me, imperfections and all to come sit upon his lap. In this place of intimacy, He told me stories. He made sense of my life (through narratives) and promised, where there were no easy answers or happy endings, hope would eventually have the final word.  Granted, when one enters the presence of the God of the Universe, there is a sense of reverence which falls upon us. But when we encounter him as he is, the heart needs no external prompting to bow low and recognize his greatness. Our heart knows the appropriate response. And so we are free to be childlike as he has instructed. 

Learning through the medium of story teaches what factual statements could never convey. Story is the primal way we comprehend. It unfolds truth in real time through displays of circumstantial evidence.  This is why Jesus so often taught in parables and stories which exemplified his themes. He didn't just tell us about the father's unconditional love, he showed us the prodigal son. He didn't only tell us his kingdom reality would mature in our lives. He showed us the process of the mustard seed growing from a tiny speck into a tree full of birds. 

Fairytales, in particular are wonderful because they aren't bound by the limitations of scientific reason. In them, Scarecrows can talk and monkeys fly. The supernatural interacts with the natural and the unexpected is the only certainty. Our minds are trained to think beyond the norm of our previous knowledge. We are opened up to receive a world beyond words, a kingdom which cannot be shaken and a learning which comes by pleasure.