I’ve been thinking a lot about the simplicity and complexity of Christ and the Christian walk. I’ve been thinking a lot about the misuse of such complexities, and the abuse of over-simplification.
I’ve been thinking a lot about James, and the sects that don’t like James and why, and the sects that embrace James when they can get away with only part of his teachings.
I’ve been thinking about my place in that spectrum, and how my thinking should be altered or challenged.
I was thinking about all that while waiting for mass to begin this morning, because Miguel and I got to the church early, so there was plenty of time for thinking.
And while I was thinking, the little girl in front of me gasped. She had spied the candles that led the processional behind us; she realized that a parade was in progress.
Her eyes went wide, her mouth forming a soundless “O”; she stared and followed the light and the cross and the Word as it moved among us.
She made a single clap, holding her hands tight around the sheer wonder of the moment, not willing to let it go.
And I thought that I think too much, and cleared my mind to make space for childish wonder.
Just my thoughts,