Canadian Mennonite
Volume 11, No. 15
July 30, 2007
Jesus loves you even when you can’t love yourself
Gretna, Man.
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There is a verse in the Bible that we too often forget or look past. It somehow gets lost between all the John 3:16s we hear in church, and during the rest of week life is too important—or too “mature”—to allow this gentle but powerful verse to come in.
“Let the little children come to me,” Jesus said in Mark 10:14. This means that even though children are small and unwise in the ways of world, Jesus loves them and we should teach our children to love Jesus in return.
But between the lines hides a deeper meaning that has come to be singularly significant in my spiritual life. Every time I read this verse there is the sense that Jesus—Son of God and Lord of all creation—finds a certain amount of comfort from the young, vibrant faces around him. It is as if their smiling faces, filled with innocent and untainted hope, give him strength for what he knows he must face. I am sure that their presence emphasized the importance of his mission here on Earth, and that he found a special form of encouragement from them.
My question to myself and what I now propose to you is: If Jesus Christ, maker of heaven and Earth, found strength from the joyful gathering of little children, why can’t we? This question lingered in the back of my mind until it was pulled forth and answered by none other than a little youngster who saw something that nobody else did.
Around Thanksgiving last year, when creamy gravy was poured over steaming turkey and the spicy scent of pumpkin pie hung in the air, I managed to hit a depressing spiritual low. Everything felt abysmal. My grades were not where I wanted them to be, my parents were always busy, and my friends seemed far-off and distant. I came to such a state of pessimism that, if I had passed a chemistry test with flying colors, ate a Thanksgiving feast with my mom and dad right beside me, and dined with a multitude of grinning friends, I still would have concluded that the turkey was too dry.
Each day I drooped deeper and deeper into this spiritual Grand Canyon. It came to the point where, not only was I not finding anything to smile about, I had started to give up trying to find something. Every part of life seemed as dry as that turkey.
While my parents, friends and teachers are pretty perceptive at noticing a down-in-the-dumps person, I kept my special case of spiritual depression well hidden. Fake grins and simulated laughs came from me in abundance publicly.
It was after supper—when all was said and done for the day—when the smallest of human beings made the biggest of differences. Strolling into my room quite nonchalantly, my little five-year-old brother came and sat down next to me on the bed, where I was staring at the ceiling but not really seeing anything.
My brother sat swinging his legs off the edge of the bed, sucking intently on a lollipop, his little hand resting gently on my knee. He turned his head to me, his bright green eyes meeting mine.
“You should stop being down, buddy,” he said suddenly, almost too casually, as if it was an afterthought. This caught me entirely off-guard. As far as I knew, nobody knew there was anything wrong with me.
“You want to know why you should stop?” he asked again.
With an adult, I would have met the question with a barrage of protests and denials, expressing my well-being in irrefutable fashion. But with the young guy I merely offered a lame “Why?”
He was still for a while, studying his candy and swinging his legs. I had just started to think that maybe he had not heard me, when he started to hum a familiar tune. Then, with a quiet confidence, he started to sing softly. It was the most beautiful version of “Jesus Loves Me” I had ever heard. And in his youthful wisdom he had changed “me” to “you.” Singing through it only once, he tapped my knee with his tiny fingers, jumped off the bed and walked out of the room.
The fundamental three principles that Jesus taught—love, faith and hope—are not things found only through age or experience. Many times it is the youngest of us who teach us the value of those three things.
That night before I went to bed, I opened my Bible and found this passage: “But when Jesus saw this [the disciples turning away the little children brought to him], he was indignant and said to them, ‘Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs’” (Mark 10:14, NRSV).
Amen, I thought.
Letters from the ‘big house’
Winnipeg
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Two years ago, Ryan Grills, an inmate at Headingley Correctional Centre in Winnipeg, contacted Douglas Mennonite Church, asking for a Christian pen pal. Since then, Carl DeGurse has exchanged dozens of letters and phone calls with the prisoner, who is now serving his sentence in Stony Mountain Penitentiary, a federal medium-security institution in Winnipeg. What follows are excerpts from some of Grills’ correspondence with DeGurse, making clear the impact such a ministry has had on his life and growing faith. Ed.
March 29, 2006
I’m 30, no kids, never been married. I’m six foot one, shaved head. I have three tattoos—a bulldog, the Harley [motorcycle] logo and one from the army. I was in the army for 18 months.
Here’s a typical day. I’m locked in a cell alone 22 hours a day. I used to be a troublemaker, so I’m housed in a segregation unit. There’s nothing to do. No TV even. It can drive a guy crazy to be alone so much.
I pray for an hour or so in the morning, and I read the Bible. I know I’m in a deep hole and the only way out is Jesus.
June 29, 2006
Sorry I could not write back sooner, but I have no cash to buy stamped envelopes. I traded my ice cream for this one.
I like Psalm 69:33: “For the Lord hears the needy, and does not despise his own that are in bonds.” It is such a boost to know God does not forget his people in prison.
You are the only person I have contact with. It’s like I am alone in this world. I have you and God. Man, does that ever make me sound pitiful.
July 1, 2006
I was a good kid until I was 15 years old. I went to six schools. Then I robbed a delivery man, and I was sent to the federal pen with the big boys. I did three years, and by the time I got out I’m a tough guy. I had hooked up with bikers in jail and I started selling drugs and guns in Winnipeg, but police had me under surveillance. I was charged with 61 criminal offences and sent to jail for nine years. I became very cold and angry.
One day I went to chapel and met the prison pastor. I gave my life to the Lord about three months later.
I eventually got out of jail. I was given $50 and a ride to downtown Winnipeg. No friends. No identification. No place to go.
Went down the wrong road again—smoking about $1,000 worth of drugs a day. To pay it back, I got back into crime. I now face 18 charges—from armed robbery to kidnapping.
Aug. 7, 2006
I know this time my life is changed for good. Jesus healed my broken heart and took the anger and hate away from me. I study the Word of God each day. I know there is going to be hard times, but Jesus is on my side.
You said in your last letter you need lots of contact with other Christians. So do I. I would like to surround myself with fellow believers, like the Bible says, but I can’t do that. What keeps me going is John 3:16. God loves me so much that he sent his son to die for me. How cool is that!
Aug. 20, 2006
Matthew 5:23-24 means I have to try and make right by all the people who I have done wrong by. I really don’t blame them if they don’t forgive me.
Aug. 23, 2006
Since I got out of the segregation unit and back in the general population, things are going better. There’s one other guy here who wants to be a Christian. We do Bible studies every morning, just the two of us. Sometimes he wants to sleep in instead, but I say I’ll dump a bucket of water on his head if he doesn’t get up. We laugh.
We do our Bible studies right out on a table on the open range where everyone else can see us. I don’t care what everyone thinks, I’m not ashamed to be a Christian.
Sept. 22, 2006
I received the copy of the Ten Commandments. Thank you. I hung them on my cell wall. If I show other inmates I’m a Christian, and they see me reading my Bible, who knows, they may turn to the Lord.
Thanks for telling me about your church. Do you guys do a lot of praying? If so, can you guys pray for me that God will give me power to keep up my Bible studies and my faith?
I have started a praying list. You are on it. What can I pray for you?