Each Sunday, during our morning worship, we invite the children who are present to join us on the front steps of the sanctuary for what we call our Time with The Children. This week it is my turn. I am not smart enough to know how ideas pop into my head, but as I wrote my welcome and my prayer for Sunday morning I suddenly had the idea that for our Time with The Children I would become a super hero. The nursery school in our building provided me with a red cape. The Children’s Librarian at the local library told me she would find a mask for me. To top it all off, I made a cardboard shield. And, to prove I was a real super hero my shield has Super Hero written on it and lightening bolts. Of course, the children are going to tell me I am not a real super hero. That to be a real super hero I need some type of super power like flying or super strength or swinging from building to building.
Then, I am going to ask them this.
If I was hungry and you shared your sandwich with me would I think you were a kind of super hero? Or, if I was new to your school and didn’t know anyone and you sat with me at lunch and talked with me, would I think you were a type of super hero? Or, if it was winter and I was cold because I did not have a coat and you helped me find a coat which would keep me warm, would I think you were a type of super hero?
All of this reminds me of a story.
For more than 20 years I have been leading service learning trips to Nicaragua. On most of those trips we help with the construction of a cement block house complete with tile floor and metal roof. At the end of one trip, standing in front of his new house, the father of the family for whom we had built the house said, “I have always dreamed of being able to provide my family with a home that had a floor and a roof. Thank you for my mansion.”
A 16’x16′ home for his family of 5.
A space smaller than some of our bedrooms.
Maybe I don’t need my cape and shield after all.
Say a prayer with me:
Dear God, help me be a super hero for good.