Holiness is Child’s Play

The most famous ambassador of a childlike spirituality is St. Thérèse of Lisieux, a Carmelite nun who lived in the late 1800s. St. Thérèse defined her doctrine of the Little Way as “the way of spiritual childhood, the way of trust and absolute surrender”.  In her autobiography, The Story of a Soul, she wrote, “I can prove my love only by scattering flowers, that is to say, by never letting slip a single little sacrifice, a single glance, a single word; by making profit of the very smallest actions, by doing them for love” (202). The Little Way makes holiness accessible to us despite our weaknesses and our ordinariness. It is a way of trust and love.  Although she died young, hidden in a contemplative convent, she is one of the most popular saints in the history of the church. Pope Pius X called her “the greatest saint of modern times”.

Anne Lamont articulates the little way in more modern terms:

I think joy and sweetness and affection are a spiritual path. We’re here to know God, to love and serve God, and to be blown away by the beauty and miracle of nature. You just have to get rid of so much baggage to be light enough to dance, to sing, to play. You don’t have time to carry grudges; you don’t have time to cling to the need to be right.

Some religious people would maintain that only a determined adult Christian can achieve holiness through strict discipline. I disagree. Just like C.S. Lewis,  I was Surprised by Joy when God revealed Himself to me as a teenager. Of course, there are certain serious Catholic bloggers who have expressed problems with my joyful spirituality. Often Catholic prophets of doom, who religiously fast and recite prescribed set prayers for hours each day, take the exception to my childlike spirit of joy. Yet this path was not of my choosing. I craved a serious life filled with an intense regime of self-sacrifice as a consecrated, contemplative religious.

When God called me to marry and become a mother to many children, I really did feel like I was accepting second best. Then, twenty years ago, a consecrated, lay contemplative who served in a Madonna House of prayer,  said to me, “You really have been given the best of both worlds. You are married with children yet you are living the contemplative life.”

Her response still brings tears to my eyes. To live a childlike spirituality of joy is not easy for a modern-day adult. I have been through decades of counselling and spiritual direction to allow Jesus to heal me, and save me from myself, my fears, and my ego. I have decades yet to travel through. There are tears in my eyes now because so few understand the little way of surrender. It was my children who stripped me and formed my spirituality.

St. Paul explains that God will judge everyone by how much truth God has revealed to them. If a tribe hidden in the jungle has never heard the gospel, God will judge based on what they know. St. Paul assures us that all men have the basic laws of God carved into their hearts. In modern language, we all have an awareness of good and evil or a conscience, even the smallest child.

The problem is tapping into and living out from my core where God has inscribed a moral code on my heart. It is hidden in my deepest self. Actually, if we can block out our own ego and selfishness, and simply stop and listen, even a child knows what is right and what is wrong. In my experience, children are capable of the highest moral action, acting purely from a heart full of love.

Thank God for Christ, because He offers even adults an easy way to love and to put that love into action.  Relax. Give up striving. Surrender to His love and let it saturate every cell of your body. Then simply let His love flow through you. It ends up being a long journey to such a carefree lifestyle because pride and ego get in the way. It is so simple that it seems complicated to our adult, logical minds.  Joseph Brackett understood this truth in the mid-1800s when he wrote the lyrics to Simple Gifts:

‘Tis the gift to be simple, ’tis the gift to be free,
‘Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be,
And when we find ourselves in the place just right,
‘Twill be in the valley of love and delight.
When true simplicity is gain’d,
To bow and to bend we will not be asham’d,
To turn, turn will be our delight,
Till by turning, turning we come round right.

No wonder Jesus praises the child,

Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these [Matthew 19:14].

And in even stronger terms,

‘I assure you,’ He said, ‘unless you are converted and become like children,  you will never get into the kingdom from heaven…’[Matthew 18:4]

A relationship to the living God is child’s play. Listen to this exchange between my young children.

One afternoon, I was making dinner, standing at the counter with my back to our three youngest children. Katie and Anthony were lounging around the kitchen table, with three-year-old Lucy perched like a little elf on a high stool, happily swinging her legs.

Simply making conversation, Katie, who was about eight years old, asked Lucy, “Lucy, who’s your favorite, mum or dad?”

Lucy replied,” Both!”

Still facing the counter, I looked over my shoulder and intruded on their conversation. “Smart answer, Lucy.”

Although, Lucy was not done, and responded, “But she’s not my real mum, Mary is.”

Katie rolled her eyes, slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand, and said incredulously, “Where does she get this stuff?”

I tried to explain as simply as I could. “Well, the Holy Spirit is in her heart and she listens to His voice.”

Lucy jumped right back into the discussion and chanted in a sing-song, lilting voice. “That’s right. God the Father in my heart. Baby Jesus in my heart. Holy Spirit in my heart. Mother Mary in my heart…. but…. I still like mum and dad the best!”

Katie rolled her eyes and plunked her head down on the table with a loud sigh. “Where does she get this stuff?”

I just laughed.

A few weeks later, as I crouched down to tie Lucy’s shoelace, Lucy picked up the small gold cross I wore around my neck and said, “This is the cross of Jesus and the glory of God shines all around it.”

Katie rolled her eyes again, slapped her forehead, and asked, “WHERE does she get this stuff?

She gets it right from the source of all truth. She is humble and little enough to remain open long enough to listen to the voice of God within her and to love Him in return. She is pure enough to love those around her with a child’s devoted love, a love, in fact, that is worthy of a saint.