SACRED STORY
AN EMMAUS JOURNEY ...
There is a story of a young child who persisted in climbing into her newborn sister’s cradle. Her parents tried all manner of things to encourage her to stop. Nothing deterred her efforts. So, one night, they watched through the slightly open door. Up she climbed, into her sister’s bed. “Sasha,” she whispered. ”Please tell me what God is like. I’m starting to forget.”
When my youngest child was about four years old, my three children and I made a picture book, retelling the Emmaus story, using their extensive collection of soft toys. Jesus was a cool koala, wearing sunnies and black leather!
We spent a few days photographing, printing photos, cutting, collaging, printing the text and binding this simple book. It was THE bedtime story for several weeks, until something else came along.
I found this little taonga the other day and I remembered.
I sat on the bed with my strapping 6’3”son, unruly hair covered with the knitted beanie that he had worn all summer. He read the book, grimaced at the photo of himself fourteen years younger, and read the
prayer. And in his eyes, in his expression, I saw that he encountered God. He remembered.
So I do not despair of my children ’losing the faith’. God’s vision, God’s outlook, God’s embrace, is much more expansive than mine. God puts no constraints on how we express our love. Just like on the road
to Emmaus, God accompanies us, often unrecognised; journeys with us; forms us; delights in us. Let’s not put limits on God’s love, nor doubt God’s incessant persistence in loving us, ALL of us, no matter what.
(first published in the Marist Messenger)
There is a story of a young child who persisted in climbing into her newborn sister’s cradle. Her parents tried all manner of things to encourage her to stop. Nothing deterred her efforts. So, one night, they watched through the slightly open door. Up she climbed, into her sister’s bed. “Sasha,” she whispered. ”Please tell me what God is like. I’m starting to forget.”
When my youngest child was about four years old, my three children and I made a picture book, retelling the Emmaus story, using their extensive collection of soft toys. Jesus was a cool koala, wearing sunnies and black leather!
We spent a few days photographing, printing photos, cutting, collaging, printing the text and binding this simple book. It was THE bedtime story for several weeks, until something else came along.
I found this little taonga the other day and I remembered.
I sat on the bed with my strapping 6’3”son, unruly hair covered with the knitted beanie that he had worn all summer. He read the book, grimaced at the photo of himself fourteen years younger, and read the
prayer. And in his eyes, in his expression, I saw that he encountered God. He remembered.
So I do not despair of my children ’losing the faith’. God’s vision, God’s outlook, God’s embrace, is much more expansive than mine. God puts no constraints on how we express our love. Just like on the road
to Emmaus, God accompanies us, often unrecognised; journeys with us; forms us; delights in us. Let’s not put limits on God’s love, nor doubt God’s incessant persistence in loving us, ALL of us, no matter what.
(first published in the Marist Messenger)
Story is integral to our humanity.
Storytellers, troubadours, wandering minstrels, raconteurs
poets, authors, dramatists, bards, allegorists, fablers
biographers, journalists, narrators, chroniclers, diarists
movie makers, cartoonists, video makers, documentary makers, bloggers
all capture the human condition,
preserve it,
and retell it
to form, inform and conform us
to the inherent dignity of each human individual.
I made these two small picture books with my children. I believe our traditional stories need to be put in a context and language that the targeted audience can relate to and understand. We all loved the experience and it is now part of our family lore and memory.
I share them with you in the hope that they bring delight and blessing.
Storytellers, troubadours, wandering minstrels, raconteurs
poets, authors, dramatists, bards, allegorists, fablers
biographers, journalists, narrators, chroniclers, diarists
movie makers, cartoonists, video makers, documentary makers, bloggers
all capture the human condition,
preserve it,
and retell it
to form, inform and conform us
to the inherent dignity of each human individual.
I made these two small picture books with my children. I believe our traditional stories need to be put in a context and language that the targeted audience can relate to and understand. We all loved the experience and it is now part of our family lore and memory.
I share them with you in the hope that they bring delight and blessing.
