MOST IMPORTANT PERSON IN THE ROOM

THE MOST IMPORTANT PERSON IN THE ROOM

Admittedly, some weeks are more interesting than others.

Jai and I participate in Cub Scouts, one of our few planned father & son bonding activities. Eighteen little wolf cubs, three leaders, and one in training – me… at least I still think so after this particular incident. Two terms in, our leader is obliged, by curriculum, to present ‘Scouts Law and Promise’. I’ve read the material. Scouts are about being kind, loyal, helping, acts of charity, acts of service and all round good human beings. It is therefore no surprise that Scouts, being based on Christian principles, attributes many of its accolades to God. As I’ve said, I’ve read the welcoming wolf-pack in its entirety. As our leader goes through the motions in presenting the material, he begins skipping over the parts that acknowledge God? Once, twice, until he starts slipping in the word ‘nonsense’. What can I say… because I am part Jedi, I felt a disturbance in the force. Or as King David used to say; ‘who is this uncircumcised philistine?’ It’s times like these I wonder If there’s perhaps a shrapnel of Italian in me, for even though I remained sangfroid, my body language, as always, betrays me.  I throw up my arms and whisper that apples-of-gold-pictures-of-silver acronym manufactured for precisely these type of situations – WTF. He notices. Good. And so does the other Atheist in the room.

As the curriculum patters on, the events repeat itself, distinguished only by a involuntary snort and ‘shaking of my head’. Partly because its interactive, and partly because the Atheists were now suddenly on high alert for discovering the Christian elephant in the room, atheist number two asks me wether I would like to comment on why I felt God was important to be included in the Scout way. I somehow sensed that citing ‘curriculum’, ‘sticking with the script,’ would be a cowardly and dishonest fall-back. So I answer by asking a question instead; “What would be the point in being kind, helpful, charitable, loyal, if we have nothing higher than ourselves and Scouts to answer to?” As expected… a pin dropped somewhere on the floorboards… great acoustics… but not to be cruel I give them the answer that there is in fact “no point. That is why we acknowledge God as our highest good. That is why we go to church to praise Him and that’s why we live our transformed lives to honour, not only our design, but Him.”  I blame short-notice for my imperfect peroration but at least there was a uncommitted grumble, ‘a good point’ and that we ‘needed to carry on.’

Why am I telling you this?

I’m sharing this recent story with you because I was reminded, at that moment, on Scout-night, who the most important person in the room was.

It is true that there are times we are all compelled to defend the honour of the ones we love, and momentarily we feel the warmth of that sting. Because we have drawn the sword, we may feel at that moment we ourselves have become the most important person in the room, but in all instances, it never is us. When we defend someone we place an enormous importance and value on them, making them worthy to be noticed, and in God’s case, revered, respected, praised and honoured. We do this because that same value is placed on us, reposing our very identity inside his entity. But on Scouts-night, the Lord might allow me to say that even though his name came up, he was not the most important person in the room.

There were the Scout leaders, two of which I now know are more careful atheists, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing. One could conclude that these letters, aimed somewhat unplanned at my unbelieving friends this year, positions them as the most important people in my room right now. But alas, on Scout-night, they were but dears in the headlights.

Then there were the eighteen ferocious wolf-pups, spongy little minds that forgive and forget what had transpired and perhaps time will reveal if they had even noticed any kind of conflict. The weight of those eighteen observing minds however, is not something easily forgotten, but they too were sidelined.

I’ll tell you who the most important person in the room was. My son – Jai Aurelius – because of what he did after I concluded this conflict in miniature.

Jai simply looked at me, and in front of all his peers, held up his thumbs and winked.

As the stone rolled down my throat I was glad this event arrived somewhat unplanned. Jai’s reaction caught me by surprise and at that moment I felt the pang of ‘nunc dimittas’ – that the Lord might now dismiss me for passing on some of my courage to my son. That I am becoming less Vulcan and more visceral, that my chest has found its function.

But more than that, it dawned on me that the gospel had invaded Scout-night on a micro-cosmic level, playing out amongst the rogue cosmic bodies this realisation; that if this world were a room, Jesus Christ, God’s Son, was V.I.P.  – Always has been. Always will be, for turning his face towards heaven he surrendered his life…

held up his thumbs…

and winked.