This weekend, my wife Desiree took two of our three kids on a trip to Findlay, Ohio to visit cousins while Micah and I stayed home. Des dropped off Micah at church for the second service and then headed off. After Micah’s caregiver picked him up (Micah is severely autistic), I headed back to the service to preach on the God-rhythm woven into the text of Genesis 1:1-2:3. After preaching on the need for Sabbath-rest as a part of the beat of the weekly grind, I picked up Micah and headed home (after stopping at Wendy’s for some french fries. He loves french fries!).
We had a quick lunch and then Micah grabbed me by the hand and pulled me out to the backyard to the trampoline that Des and I had set up just a few weeks back. It was a perfect afternoon- cool (mid-70s) with a nice breeze, a few clouds in the sky. Micah was excited. In his somewhat robotic way of talking, he kept repeating his request, “I want trampoline, please…I want trampoline, please” which means, “I want you to play with me on the trampoline.” Now, I have never been the dignified type, but I am sure if the neighbors saw this 44 year old man and this eight-year-old boy, it was quite the spectacle as I climbed in and we began to bounce. Micah is a pretty joyful, little guy, but his glee was unrestrained as we jumped around that afternoon. As he rode the force of my latest jump that sent him flying across the 15 foot circle, he squealed with delight; a squeal that transitioned quickly into an uncontrollable giggle that could possibly bring world peace. We could see our shadows as we jumped up and down- my rather big-bodied frame next to his small, boyish silhouette. As we jumped, for some reason, I got it in my head to ask Micah how he was feeling. Honestly, I am not quite sure why I asked him that. I knew he was having fun based on his laughter and non-stop smile. And I also knew that it was more than likely that such a question was too abstract for Micah. After all, how do you describe “feelings” to a child who is virtually non-verbal except for basic requests and echoing? But, out it came- “How are you feeling?” And without skipping a beat, Micah blurted out, “Happy!!” It was stunning, and joyful, and moving. I could barely restrain the tears.
As I started to tire, I flopped down on the mat and then rolled to the side so as to not get jumped on. Micah flopped himself down as well, rolled himself (copycat style) into my side and then pulled my arm around him as he nestled in while staring up into the sky. And there we lay, staring into a blue sky with occasional wisps of clouds drifting by- joyous, quiet, content, like that was all that was happening in the world. Lying on the kids’ trampoline, holding Micah (and Micah holding “Tiger” and “Monkey”- two of his stuffed animals), I met with God.
It is amazing to me how God brings all the pieces of a day together and forms a story, even echoes parts of His story. I started the morning preaching on Genesis 1, on creation and time and communion with God, and here I was living it.
I love going back to the beginning of the story of Scripture. It is kind of like watching the first part of a movie when all is good; there is peace, wholeness (what the Bible terms as “shalom”) before the crisis shatters the characters and the calm into pieces. Sometimes, I am tempted to watch movies up to that point and then turn it off and re-write the story in my own imagination so that the shalom remains undisturbed. I am also tempted to read Genesis 1:1-2:25 and stop there. Here was a place of extreme beauty, extreme shalom. The language in Job almost pictures a God who not only creates, but engages in and with His creation, dare I say it- plays in it!! The lightning bolts announce to Him where they are (Job 38:35). God wades through the oceans (Job 38:16) like a schoolboy might puddle-jump in his rubber boots while the stars sing at the sunrise of a new day (Job 38:7). We find God almost playfully engaging wild donkeys and oxen and horses (Job 39:5-25), rejoicing in the majestic soaring of a hawk (Job 39:26). Cornelius Plantinga writes,
“God loves creation. God celebrates creation. God even plays with His creation.”
Both Plantinga and Eugene Peterson reference a poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins which speaks to the same thought of God playing and resting in His magnificent world!
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves- goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying What I do is me; for that I came.
I say more: the just man justices:
Keeps grace: that keeps all his goings graces;
Acts in God’s eye what in God’s eye he is-
Christ- for Christ plays in ten thousand places.
“Christ plays in ten thousand places”. That line ended up being the title of Peterson’s book on spirituality and the biblical meta-narrative. And in this place of play, God designated a special place to meet and play with His creation-pinnacle- humans; a place that was unique and special and filled with shalom; a place where humans had no doubts about God’s intentions and goodness; a place where they could express and He could express back...a garden.
That is where I am tempted to stop the story. But, the story doesn’t stop there. There was an act that we cannot get much more than a wisp of understanding. But, humans rebelled. We ate from the tree of “I want to be my own boss” (that is the meaning of the Hebrew idiom- “knowing good and evil”) and shalom was shattered. We lost so much. We destroyed so much. Our ignorance concerning the devastation that sin and willfulness creates is almost as tragic as the devastation itself.
I have talked with many parents who have a child (or children) with autism, and they can tell you of a time when their child was around 18-24 months old, developing nicely…and then they regressed into this little inner-world that struggles to let anyone in. The language stops. The understanding stops. The eye contact stops. Listening to these parents, it is like something leaked out of their child never to come back again. I wonder if that is how God felt that one particular day He came to the garden to play in His creation in that special place with human beings, only to find that something had leaked out of His children. They don’t want to speak to Him. They don’t want to make eye contact with Him. It’s like they lost the ability to play. So they had to leave. I wonder sometimes how grieved God must have been as He watched these two “playmates” walk silently out of their special place, heads hung low in shame and loss.
Thankfully, the story doesn’t end there either!! By the time we get to the end of the story (Revelation 22), the “special place”, the garden is restored (and then some!). I wonder if God imagines how “play time” in His new creation will be once His old friends have experienced redemption and restoration and returned to Him. I wonder if He longs for the laughter and the knowing and the eye contact to be back in full, unhindered swing.
But, we’re still in the part of the story that precedes all of that. We are on the other side of the cross of Christ where that rebellion was paid for and the empty tomb where Jesus is breathing new life into a dead world...but all things are incomplete. All things yet remain broken and under the curse. And I, on this Labor Day weekend of 2010, found myself- yet again- living the story of God on a trampoline with my beautiful little boy who was soaking in the one-on-one time he had with his dad. Indeed, I found myself encountering God; looking through His eyes at His partially restored creation awaiting its full restoration. Here we were- Micah and me- in our “special place”, our “garden”, resting, bouncing, playing. There is just something about bouncing that helps calibrate his little mind. He thinks better. He communes better. And during our “plop-down” times, he will look at me directly in the eyes and smile and tell me he’s “happy” (a pronouncement that I had to call Des about because it is that rare). In his somewhat robotic speech, he asks for tickles ("I want tickles please, I want tickles please") and kisses ("I want kisses please, I want kisses please") or nibbles on his ear ("I want Mike Tyson please, I want Mike Tyson please"). These moments are perhaps glimpses of what will be when all is complete and renewed and restored. And I wonder if we will get to relive this moment again one day when we have both passed from this world and into God’s new garden. I wonder if we will bounce and play in our trampoline. What will Micah express to me in complete sentences with inflection and unhindered mind in our special place now renewed? What will our relationship be like when whatever leaked out is put back in?
It is moments like this where I realize how much we’ve truly lost, how badly we’ve screwed things up in this world, and yet, how much God must truly love us; how much He is looking forward to the time when all things are re-born and His creation is making eye contact again; how much He is truly invested in making all things new, re-forging shalom and…playing again.
