I recently read a list entitled, Great Truths about Life That Little Children Have Learned.
 (1) "No matter how hard you try you cannot baptize a cat."
 (2) "When your Mom is mad at your Dad, don't let her brush your hair."
 (3) "Never ask your 3-year-old brother to hold a tomato… or an egg."
 (4) "You can't trust dogs to watch your food for you."
 (5) "Don't sneeze when somebody is cutting your hair."
 (6) "School lunches stick to the wall."
 (7) "You can't hide a piece of broccoli in a glass of milk."
 (8) "Never wear polka-dot underwear under white shorts… no matter how cute the underwear is."

It is obvious that these "great truths" come from an attention grabbing experience that these children have had. Our gospel story of Jesus going into the desert is about something similar. The gospel writer, Mark, succinctly tells us that, "The Spirit drove Jesus out into the desert, and he remained in the desert for forty days, tempted by Satan. He was among wild beasts, and the angels ministered to him."

When Jesus comes out of the desert, he begins to proclaim the "great truth" that he has experienced. Mark again captures this experience in a few words, "…Jesus came to Galilee proclaiming the [good news] of God: 'This is the time of fulfillment. The kingdom of God is at hand. Repent, and believe in the [good news].'"

During the fourth century, after Constantine made Christianity the religion of the Roman Empire, men and women began to venture into the desert. It seems that they felt that Christianity had become too safe and too closely aligned with protecting buildings and positions of power. One of the first lessons that these peopled learned was that silence releases demons. Their descriptions are as clear as the "great truths" of the children.

Initially, it appeared to those who chose to live in the wastelands that the demons were external. If they lived long enough without going crazy, they discovered that the demons were not external. They lived within themselves. Those who survived and who shared their experience also, like Jesus, spoke of the good news of God. Ultimately, this was the experience that made the deepest impression upon them.

The Genesis story of Noah and his family captures this experience in the bow that appears in the sky. It is God's commitment to me that God will never destroy me. It is God's promise to me that I am loved with all of my demons still living within me. It is God's covenant with me that I will not drown in the waters of chaos that surround me daily, constantly pulling me into despair.

We enter this Lenten Season with war being pursued by many, tragedy seemingly a daily occurrence, people and families facing mounting bills, human services being less and less available, and God's bow can still be seen in the sky.

I'd like to end with a story that was recently pasted on to me. A father writes:

Last week I took my children to a restaurant. My six-year-old son asked if he could say grace. As we bowed our heads he said, "God is good. God is great. Thank you for the food, and I would even thank you more if Mom gets us ice cream for dessert. And liberty and justice for all! Amen!"

Along with the laughter from the other customers nearby, I heard a woman remark, "That's what's wrong with this country. Kids today do not even know how to pray. Asking God for ice cream! Why, I never . . .!"

Hearing this, my son burst into tears and asked me, "Did I do it wrong? Is God mad at me?"

As I held him and assured him that he had done a terrific job and God was certainly not mad at him, an elderly gentleman approached the table. He winked at my son and said, "I happen to know that God thought that was a great prayer."

"Really?" my son asked.

"Cross my heart," the man replied.

Then in a theatrical whisper he added (indicating the woman whose remark had started this whole thing), "Too bad she never asks God for ice cream. A little ice cream is good for the soul sometimes."

Naturally, I bought my kids ice cream at the end of the meal. My son stared at his for a moment and then did something I will remember the rest of my life. He picked up his sundae and without a word, walked over, and placed it in front of the woman; with a big smile, he told her, "Here, this is for you. Ice cream is good for the soul sometimes, and my soul is good already."