After Sunday morning worship few weeks ago, a father brought his four-year-old son to me with this query: How big is God. At this time I also learned that this tot philosopher refers to me, not as “Pastor Steve,” but “the Captain.” (Yes, “Dead Poet’s Society” immediately sprang to mind.)
How big is God? This is a good and logical question.
I asked the child to engage in an experiment with me: “Waive your hand really fast!” He heartily complied. “Did you feel something on your skin as you waived?” I asked. He said he did. I told him that what he felt was air.
His dad helpfully suggested that he take a deep breath and then informed him that that too was air. I told him that though he couldn’t see it, the air is everywhere. I then instructed him to look to the ceiling and asked if he could see the light. Yes, He could see the light! I then explained that the bulb, was in the ceiling, but the light was everywhere in the room—if it wasn’t we couldn’t see anything.
I asked him to look through the window at trees across the road. Could he see them? Yes, he could! He offered, “The light’s out there too!” Indeed. There is no sight without light.
I then brought the object lesson to a conclusion: “When you think of how ‘big’ God is I don’t want you to think of Him as being ‘big’ like your dad. I want you to think of Him as being ‘big’ like the air and the light. God is everywhere.”
I suppose I had instinctively “hunkered down” a little as I conversed with the boy; and as I was straightening my posture a thought came to me: I have just conveyed a deep and marvelous truth in such a way that even a child can understand it…
My sneakily-proud reverie was unceremoniously cut extremely short with three simple words.
“Is He fat?”
Move along, kid…you’re starting to bug the Captain.