Party In My Tummy!

This is possibly my favorite video ever, and definitely the theme song for Thanksgiving!

Yanyan photographs AM Sunday school

Today one of my morning kids offered to work as my photographer at Sunday school. Most of the pictures were blurry (a facet of cameraphone photography, alas), but a couple came out better than my own attempts!

Hello!
These are two of the few SS students whose fathers attend the church. The boy is Autistic, and the girl is (usually!) great at helping him fit into SS.

The Killing of a Conscience

Recently I came across a copy of the book Pinocchio, by Carlo Collodi. Having grown up with the silly, simple Disney version of the puppet boy, I was amazed to discover the intentional wickedness of Pinocchio in this book on which the film is based! The scene that shocked me most was his first encounter with the Talking Cricket.

Pinocchio, just born, has already kicked his father, made him cry, and gotten him arrested under false accusations of child abuse. He returns home, "happy at his escape," and soon hears a strange chirping in the rafters. This is the insect conscience anomaly that Disney will later dub Jiminy Cricket. In the cartoon, you may recall, this introductory scene stars a cute insect/puppet signalong about whistling when you want your conscience to appear. Their banter, however, doesn't quite play out that way in the book.

"Shall I tell you something?" asked Pinocchio, who was beginning to lose patience. "Of all the trades in the world, there is only one that really suits me."
"And what can that be?"
"That of eating, drinking, sleeping, playing, and wandering around from morning till night."
"Let me tell you, for your own good, Pinocchio," said the Talking Cricket in his calm voice, "that those who follow that trade always end up in the hospital or in prison."
"Careful, ugly Cricket! If you make me angry, you'll be sorry!"
"Poor Pinocchio, I am sorry for you."
"Why?"
"Because you are a Marionette and, what is much worse, you have a wooden head."
At these last words, Pinocchio jumped up in a fury, took a hammer from the bench, and threw it with all his strength at the Talking Cricket.
With a last weak "cri-cri-cri" the poor Cricket fell from the wall, dead!

I don't know about you, but I never saw that one coming.

Original Pinocchio murders his would-be conscience less than one page after meeting him. Just like that! Just for warning him about his behavior and telling him obvious truth about what he really is!

I was astounded and horrified when I read this. What kind of person - er, puppet - would fly off the handle like that and kill Jiminy Cricket?! Pinocchio has proven himself to be wicked already, but you really can't go lower than hurling a hammer at a tiny singing being, you know? And Pinocchio doesn't even feel bad: Collodi writes, "If the Cricket's death scared Pinocchio at all, it was only for a very few moments." Then the wooden boy is back to running around causing mischief and avoiding the one man who really loves him, his father and creator Geppetto.

...Wait, what was that?

This isn't the Disney movie we're used to, but it's definitely starting to sound familiar. A created being hand-crafted from nature in the image of his maker... A lesser form given life by a greater one, even adopted as a son... Sin that starts at conception, selfishness that destroys... A winding path of rebellion, and the relentless pursuit of a loving and long-suffering father...

So which story is this again? Because, honestly, it's beginning to sound a lot like mine. And yours. And mankind's.

If I must resemble a marionette, I like to think I'm closer to the cartoon character. I admit I stray easily, letting others pull my strings, but I'm not trying to cause trouble. Surely I'm not this original Pinocchio, who deliberately seeks his own way, even when he knows it's going to inflict hardship and pain on those who love him most. Right?

Unfortunately, all I have to do is re-read his first exchange with the Talking Cricket to know I have more in common with the naughty Pinocchio than I'd like to admit. The trade he spoke of may not be my official career, but it's how I prefer to spend my time. And when others confront me about it, or any pet selfishness, I get defensive like Pinocchio did. I evade, or escape, or counter-attack. Even if I go so far as to nod and agree outwardly, inwardly I've tuned out. And when my conscience follows up by chirping from its shadowy perch in the rafters, I admit I can be exactly as brutal as that puppet. I may not sling chisels, but I've found many ways to silence that still small voice inside of me, telling me the truth when I least want to hear it. I've ignored it. Laughed at it. Slammed the door in its face. I've turned up my music. I've starved it, or drowned it. And maybe, if I'm really honest, I'll confess that I've tried my best to kill it.

I haven't finished the book yet. There's a lot going on, and I'm having my doubts about whether it will ever reach that fairytale end Disney taught me to expect. I've peeked ahead, though, and it looks like there's hope: just like a real conscience, the Talking Cricket reappears, a ghost of his former self but still speaking the truth.

There on a beam sat the Talking Cricket.

"Oh, my dear Cricket," said Pinocchio, bowing politely.

"Oh, now you call me your dear Cricket, but do you remember when you threw your hammer at me to kill me?"

That brief interaction shows me the cricket's the same, but Pinocchio's quite different. And I guess if there's redemption for a wayward wooden boy who defies his earthly father, I have much more to hope from my heavenly One.

Barbie and Ken 101

I love this so, so, so much, but I have to issue a language warning before you watch it...

Halloween!

At 1pm, a bunch of us (The Ks, the Ws, Jimmy, Joy, Nick, Luke, Amy, Kevin, Cecilia, Connie, Sharon, and three women from Chinese Church) met at church to compile 300 bags of candy and tracts in Chinese, Spanish and English.
At exactly 4 o'clock, we moved the tables outside.
And by 4:05, all 300 bags were gone! We handed out hot dogs, and those, though less popular, were gone by 4:15. We passed out brownies after that, and by 4:30 we were all back inside, incredulous and catching our breaths after the whirlwind of our Halloween outreach.

Last year's event went quickly, but this has to be a new record! After cleaning up, we collapsed around a table at church, sipping tea and hot chocolate, completely blown away by how quickly our weeks of planning had passed into nothing. Hopefully, of course, the work of those bags has just begun, and tonight 300 kids around the neighborhood will flip through the tracts inside and see, some for the first time, how much Jesus loves them. Please pray that these papers would be viewed, understood and accepted rather than simply thrown away or forgotten.