I’ve told my readers just yesterday that I wouldn’t be writing in my blog for a while because of some bigger work that I’m finishing. But the conversation I had this morning with my daughter while driving to her school was just too good not to write about.
We were driving along our usual route when out of the blue, with all of the innocent precociousness of a five-year-old child, suddenly blurted out:
“Daddy! Is Jesus a girl?”
For a moment, I lost all concentration on my driving.
“What?! Why do you ask that dear?”
“Because I think Jesus is a girl!”
Now before you go on and say that my wife and I have been remiss in teaching our daughter the basics of the Gospel, I want to tell you that my wife and I read Bible stories to her almost every night before she sleeps. Her favorites include: the story of Adam, Eve and the Sneaky Snake; Strong Man Samson; David and the Giant; and of course, stories about Jesus.
I tried to think of some reason why my daughter would suddenly question the gender of the Messiah. It was difficult, considering that I was weaving in and out of Vientiane’s now famous morning traffic, and the fact that my male mind was designed to handle one serious subject at a time (my thanks to our pastor who pointed that fact out to our wives this Sunday.)
My thoughts wandered to the lively conversation I had yesterday with three dear friends during the Diplomatic Reception for the Brunei National Day.
Actually, the conversation was mostly between two people. I was just fortunate enough to be able to listen, and throw in a comment or two as the breaks in the conversation allowed (which was not often).
My colleague from the Myanmar Embassy, Mr. Thiha Han, and my friend Mike Cluzel who is the General Manager of Tigo Lao (soon to be changed. The name of the company that is), are two of the smartest, well-read and articulate people that I know here in Vientiane. There is absolutely no way that I, or anyone else that we know in common, could possibly take the upper hand against them in a conversation.
It was the first time I would see these two in a conversation together.
It was like seeing a duel between two old and grizzly samurai. Each of them brandished their knowledge of historical trivia and facts like worn but well-sharpened katana (the samurai’s sword) that has seen many battles.
There is a legend about the greatest Japanese swordsman who ever lived, Miyamoto Musashi, who has won every single duel he has fought, each one to the death. And he has reportedly fought hundreds of them.
The legend says that one day, Musashi encountered another swordsman who was about to cross a small bridge wide enough for just one person. They were both on opposite ends.
Samurai bravado being what it is, both of the swordsmen indicated that he was about to cross to the other by unveiling their cloaks and revealing their daisho (the traditional pair of swords carried by the samurai), and reportedly, bowing their heads.
The bowing of heads was a symbol of respect, and at the same time had a practical use. Making eye contact with a samurai in those days was literally dangerous to one’s health.
Apparently, neither of the two backed down from the other.
They stayed in their respective poses for a time before they both lost patience, and decided to look each other in the eyes.
Time stood still as these two swordsmen revealed themselves to each other through the expression in their eyes.
Some versions of the legend say that they stood like that for days. But that is not what made the legend famous. Nor was it the seemingly inevitable duel between the two.
What made the legend was that the two samurai bowed their heads again, covered up their daisho, and walked away. Without crossing the bridge and in opposite directions.
It is a classic tale that is uniquely Japanese, and yet is pregnant with significance.
And unfortunately for my two prodigal friends, not to be their tale that night.
They circled each other and engaged in their duel without hesitation.
In the midst of thrusts, parries and ripostes, I and my other friend Engin Yasmun, a Turkish National who is the director of Eastern Star School, could only listen and watch helplessly but politely at the two masters.
The conversation seemed to last a lifetime, with neither one gaining the upper hand for long.
Finally, each of them was forced to reveal their secret weapon: gender jokes.
Being all male, the jokes were mostly about women of course.
For the sake of our readers whose gender falls under the category of the fairer sex, I shall no longer discuss here in detail the contents of the direction that the conversation took.
Suffice to say that our laughs were the loudest that night. Which probably was what prompted His Excellency, the Ambassador of Brunei, to take matters into his own hand and uncharacteristically bid each of us farewell long before the reception was fully over.
I came away from that conversation wondering if God would come back at me for having a good laugh at the expense of Eve’s descendants.
And this morning, I got God’s answer, in the form of my daughter’s innocent but determined questions.
I gave my daughter my answer just as we were passing the Buddhist Temple at Simuang Road.
“Dear, I don’t think it matters if Jesus were a boy or a girl.”
My daughter wouldn’t have any of it.
“No daddy! I think Jesus is a girl!”
I realized that there was really no diplomatic way of having this conversation with her.
“Why do you think Jesus is a girl? What made you think that way?” I asked half-exasperatedly.
“Because I love Him!”
And that my friends, is God’s answer spoken through a five-year old girl.
I know Jesus as a man, not just because the Bible speaks of Him as a man, but because I relate to Him as a man.
My daughter decided to know Him as a woman, because she relates to Him as a little girl. This is probably true in the hearts of many women believers everywhere.
My proof? Jesus’ conversation with Mary and Martha.
In those days, it was unheard of for an unmarried man to be in a house alone with two unmarried women. Things like that tended to get you stoned (and not in the “good way”).
But there was Jesus, having a merry and jolly conversation with these two women as if it was the most natural thing in the world. The Bible does not record any other of the male disciples being present there.
Now I don’t know about you, but I find it next to impossible to have a deep, long and meaningful conversation with my wife, let alone with other women. All my conversations with them invariable lead to quarrels or to light joking.
But the magic of Jesus was that He could have a conversation with anyone He chooses to, be it a well-respected male leader of Jewish society, or a woman from the despised Samaritan class.
My question to you is, when did you last have a conversation with Him?
It doesn’t have to be anything serious or doctrinal. Just a simple conversation involving what went on in your day.
And though chances are He knows already, what is important is that you take the effort to make that conversation, not for His sake, but for yours.
Just try it.
Start with something like this:
“Lord, creator of all things, including myself and the members of the opposite sex. This is what my day was like. I know you’re busy being ruler of the universe and all, but I would really like to have this conversation with you if you don’t mind. I’ve had a bad week and I can’t really talk to my wife/husband or friends about it. They can’t understand the pressures that I face at work/home alone. They say You’re everywhere and You know everything so I’m sure You of all people would understand.”
When He answers you, you’ll know what I’m talking about.
Who knows? You might end up with a tale worth sharing as well.
God Bless you all my dear family and friends!
