Babies, Puppies and the Kingdom of God

And they said unto Moses, Because there were no graves in Egypt, hast thou taken us away to die in the wilderness? wherefore hast thou dealt thus with us, to carry us forth out of Egypt? Is not this the word that we did tell thee in Egypt, saying, Let us alone, that we may serve the Egyptians? For it had been better for us to serve the Egyptians, than that we should die in the wilderness. (Exodus 14:11-12)

We remember the fish, which we did eat in Egypt freely; the cucumbers, and the melons, and the leeks, and the onions, and the garlick: But now our soul is dried away: there is nothing at all, beside this pale, insubstantial manna, before our eyes. (Numbers 11:5-6)

Things are changing and the world is looking grim these days. Governments are more corrupt then ever before. There is violence in the city streets; crime fills the news like never before. The police need more power, bigger guns, fewer restrictions. Rights will need to be suspended, temporarily of course (like income tax - the last government might have been corrupt but this one will always keeps it's word)!

And anything that tastes good causes increased levels of bad cholesterol or cancer or something worse.

I don't know what this world is coming to.

Oh the good ol' days, when soda pop grew on Canadian trees, before these new alien species of Maple trees showed up and ruined the party. Ladybugs on your arm were good luck, they didn't bite like these new Japanese ones. I could wade into the lake barefoot and not come out bleeding half to death with gashes from zebra mussels. McDonald's really did care about kids having happy birthdays, and the Ponderosa and Mother's Pizza sent me a birthday card every year!

Life was simpler then. Sure it was hard, I walked 5 miles to school each day - back in the time before we even had kilometres.

I could fall and scrape my knee as a child and have all the world come tumbling down with me. But it was all forgotten at the sight of ice cream.

The worst violence I can remember when I was a kid was getting kicked in the pants by my next door neighbour in some facsimile of a fist fight. Somehow it was all forgotten by the next day. If it wasn't our parents would lock us in the basement together until we made up. We both swore we wouldn't but we always did.

Oh, the good ol' days, eh? What is it about the past that is so easily gilded? What is it about the present that causes us to gripe so?

Why can't we be content in the present? Why do people in NY presume that hailing a cab for a frail old lady means you are about to extract a fee for the service? Why do people stand under the awning when it's pouring rain frustrated that they cannot get where they are going, and waiting as they watch a woman struggle to get her grocery bags into a taxi as she and her produce get drenched and the taxi driver only flicks the trunk open from the driver's seat?

I think we are all getting old. Even the children seem to be old today. They have cell phones glues to their ears or their eyes or both as they walk down sunny streets, or sit beside their friends on the bus. Adults who accidentally make eye contact on that same bus prickle and look away - returning to empty apartments feeling alone muttering about the state of youth today.

But there is still hope in babies and puppies. They haven't learned to be miserable. They haven't learned to be wait for the future or grieve for a world now gone.

Watch the effect a child has on an uptight subway rider as they look at the pruned face in wonder. The adult may look away, but as the mother tries to distract the child from the stranger, the child won't look away. Transfixed by the determination to be unhappy the child just stares and pulls away from her mother's pleas - intent on the smile that isn't there.

And finally, reluctantly, the adult smiles at the child, who rattles her toy furiously and gurgles and finally looks at back at her Mom. She gurgles again as she looks back at the adult who smiles again and who's everything has changed - if only until the door opens for the next stop. The adult is forced to politely decline the gooey toy he is offered as the next station is announced.

For that child there is no past. And there is no future barrelling at her that will not be dealt with when it arrives. For the child there is only this moment. A man that looks strangely and inexplicably wrong. And then a smile, and all is right - even if Mom looks a little nervous as she wheels her child of the subway car before the doors close with a chime.

Living in the moment, the child reaches out to heal the wounded and shares the bounty of her secret knowledge reflexively. It is how we are made. Thank God.

The baby has yet to forget the secret we are each born with: Paradise is the desert and the Promised Land. The desert is Paradise. There is only one place, one moment: here, now. The Kingdom of God manifest and hidden in each grain of sand.