“…your minds may somehow be led astray from your sincere
and pure devotion to Christ.” II Co 11:3
After we have grown up both physically and intellectually, can we maintain the innocence we
used to have as children?
“I used to go to children’s Sunday School as a child, but that was years ago. I haven’t been
to any church since then,” a seeker said to me when I was trying to invite him
to the church.
“Did you believe in Jesus as a little boy?”
“I might have, but I don’t remember,” he answered.
Little children never question when we tell them there is a God in heaven who loves
and cares for them. Their faces seem to beam with the light of purity when they
How and when do we lose our innocence?
“Do you mean our ignorance?” some people may reply sarcastically. They seem to imply that children believe in
God merely because they are yet to be enlightened by scientific knowledge.
I don’t know whether we have been taught or been lied to in the process of acquiring an
education. Becoming more educated may mean that we have become more ignorant.
Ignorant of something beautiful, pure, and true.
What kind of knowledge can we take with us when we leave the world behind? When our brain
dies, all the knowledge that we have stored within it perishes as well.
The knowledge that we have stored up within our spirits is something we can take with us, for
our spirits depart from our physical bodies at death. My father-in-law could still
utter a beautiful prayer toward the end of his earthly life, even after
dementia had robbed him of most of his memories.
Nothing is more important for us Christians to do than to store up more spiritual knowledge
within our spirits through which our heavenly Father communicates with us, lest
we become utterly speechless when we meet him someday.
“Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so.”
Isaac Newton might have discovered the law of gravity, but such knowledge of the physical
world wouldn’t have done him any good when he met his Creator unless he knew
the simple spiritual language he learned to utter when he was a little boy.
“Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world…” This was the song I taught my Sunday School
children to sing when I was a baby Christian, and I have since acquired my
seminary training and served as a pastor for almost twenty years, but I
consider the year I taught children’s Sunday School at a small church in the
suburbs of Taipei the purest of all my service to God. I suppose I might have spoken more
spiritual language during that year than I have ever done in the past twenty years
I have served as a pastor.