Overview:

The Memorial of St. Bonaventure, Bishop and Doctor of the Church

A Reflection for the Memorial of St. Bonaventure, Bishop and Doctor of the Church

“Although you have hidden these things
from the wise and the learned
you have revealed them to the childlike.” (Mt 11:25)

Find today’s readings here.

My sister and I are the oldest in a line of crazy cousins. Recently, nothing brings our (much) younger cousins more joy than to refer to us, according to their generation’s customs, as “unc.”

If you have not yet had the pleasure of learning this internet slang term the kids are saying these days, basically they’re calling us old and washed up—but in a loving way. (At least that last part is what I tell myself.) I can’t bring myself to take offense because it makes them laugh so hard, which makes me laugh so hard. Plus, I’m biased, but they’re comedy geniuses who know how to take their bit to new heights. Recently one of them looked at my sister and said, smirking, “I’ve been meaning to ask you… How many dinosaurs did you know?” Absolute gold.

But I don’t think I always would have found this kind of kid behavior quite so charming and funny. There was once a time when I was the teenage older cousin who lost my patience with the little ones easily, who was quick to find their antics annoying. Seeing myself as so much more mature, the silliness sometimes felt like a waste of time. The more serious and self-conscious I became, the less I understood the kids around me. 

In today’s Gospel reading, Jesus returns to one of his recurring themes: the special place God holds for children. In this case, he remarks on their unique wisdom and understanding. God has chosen to reveal the deepest truths, the mysteries of his Kingdom, to the childlike instead of to the wise and the learned. It’s an important reminder—not just to children, but to those who can allow themselves to be childlike.

What’s holding me back from connecting with the most childlike parts of myself? What might be preventing me from knowing and internalizing the things that came naturally to me in childhood? What is it that children understand intuitively that the heaviness of life tempts adults to forget?

It’s easy for us to hold onto self-consciousness and structure and seriousness instead of giving into the free-flowing rhythm of a kid’s mind. As adults who have probably been burned before, we’d rather hold onto our coping mechanisms of choice. But Jesus makes no bones about it; the kids (and those of us who can open our eyes and ears and hearts to them) understand much that we don’t.

The mysteries of the Kingdom may not lie in the “unc” jokes, I’ll grant you that. But the kid-level cleverness, the fresh perspective, the honest and curious questions they ask that cause us adults to stop and reconsider—maybe those do have something to do with it. And that laughter (even at our expense)… the amount of joy packed into my cousins’ giggles certainly inches me closer to what God is really like, the kind of delight God wishes for me and for all of us.

Molly Cahill is Associate Director of Digital Strategy at America. She was a 2020-2021 O'Hare Fellow.