Whenever I run into any of you in the back of the church or in a store or shopping, you are always so gracious and genuinely friendly, but now and then a complaint gets back to me.  And evidently one gentleman in the parish as a kind of reverse homage à moi, said, “Oh, him, every year he trots out those letters to God.”  I guess he felt he needed an insulin injection because they were too sweet for him.  I don’t blame him, it’s OK.  But, it’s only once a year and I set the alarm for 12 minutes and I try to bring a fresh batch.  Some of them you’ve heard before, because I love them.  But there are a lot of new ones from Christ the King second grade.  So here’s a batch.

After all, the readings today were about praying.  That was hilarious, the Abbott and Costello routine between Abraham and God.  “Would you save them if there were only 20 left?”  And God said, “I don’t know, let me think about it.”  Good comic stuff, in the book of Genesis, hilarious. 

And today, our Lord says, “Keep knocking."  My bible scholars –  I check all six of them every time we’re together on a Sunday, so you just don’t have to listen to me blabbering.  I checked the great Catholic bible scholars, all six of them.  And for the first time in my life, all six of them said the same word about the point of the gospel.  And the word they used was “persistence.”  Keep at it.  Don’t give up.  Don’t get mad at God.  Don’t quit before the miracle – persistence, keep knocking.

These kids are just as human as they can be and they are all praying to God in their own way.  Some of them (the papers) are old and falling apart.  I’ll have to put them on index cards.

“Why did you make bad people, God?  My baby brother is very bad.  I always have to spank him when Mommy ain’t looking.  Please make him good, if not – more spanking.  I love you, love Jean.”  When she wrote this she was 5 ½ and already big with the punishment.

Now this is my prayer – a kid wrote it, but it’s me, and some of you.  “OK, God, I kept my half of the deal.  Where is the bike?”

These are from the school. “I’d like to ask you some questions.  Is it always sunny up there?  Do you eat?  Do you sleep?  Is there any color?  Is there a house?  Can I bring my dog?”  Now, I know that sounds slurpy and sentimental, “Can I bring my dog?”  It’s not.  According to Thomas Aquinas, who is the premier theologian of Christianity, and C.S. Lewis who is a first-rate brain convert, both Aquinas and C.S. Lewis say, judging from scripture, that it seems that domestic pets (dogs, cats, and so forth.) who share suffering with us on earth, may be perfectly entitled to share beatitudes (happiness) in paradise.  Oh, that’s so sweet I need an insulin injection.  I believe it, I do, and why not?

“Dear God, I have some questions for you.  Who are your parents?  Did you make yourself?  What was Jesus’ full name?  When in heaven, can I bring my dog?”

“Dearest Jesus:  it rained for our whole vacation and is my father mad!  He said some things about you that people are not supposed to say.  But I hope you will not hurt him anyway.  Your friend – but I am not going to tell you who I am.”  

This is from Christ the King school.  “I bet, God, it is very hard for you to love all of everybody in this whole world.  There are only 4 people in our family and I can never do it.”

This are some for us nerds when we were younger.  “Please send Dennis Clark to a different camp this summer.”

Now this child, this is second grade, is studying quantum physics with regard to evolution and creation.  “Dear God, was the big bang you?”  That’s very profound.  “Was the big bang you? How did you make everything and why?”

“My name is Charlie Miller.  I have some questions.  How is Aunt Barbara doing up there?  How is Grandpa doing?  What year was Jesus born?  Why did he decide to make this earth?  Why did you make people?  Why do you allow war?”  This kid is fed up.  Some of us agree.  “Why did you make the galaxies? But I love you.”

“What is it like in heaven?  I want my room in heaven to be made of hearts, pink fluffy beds.  Do we wear any clothes?  Are you still married?”  I love the adverb – are you still married?  “I love you so much.”

This is an old one on a card, because the original one is in tatters.  Stacy was 7 when she wrote this.  “I thank you for all the things you have done for me.  You have gave me a heart and a brian (brian-brain) to love and to learn.  I am 7 years old.”  That’s all of theology in a couple of words.  You have given me a heart and a brain to love and to learn.  Stacy is now the mother of 4 kids herself.

Now, when I was younger I took a course at New York University in child psychology and adolescent psychology.  I know it sounds pretentious of me, but they were good courses.  Part of the course we studied was when kids draw pictures of God or their parents.  This child, Russell, did a picture of heaven.  It’s called “welcome to heaven.”  I know you can’t see it, but two people are in chairs and they’re talking and beaming with happiness and they’re turning and waving to us and urging us to join them.  Now, it’s great because so many people, even PhDs would say that heaven is going to be so boring.  Hosanna, hosanna, hosanna forever.  Jesus never bored anyone on earth – they hated him or they loved him.  Nobody yawned when Jesus was around.  Why would heaven bore us?  We’ll explore galaxies together.  And these people look so happy.  “Welcome to heaven.”

“How many people did you make?  Have you met my neighbor?  How did you make the universe?  Wasn’t it hard?  How did you do it?  Seven days?  All by yourself?”  This kid is a great skeptic.  First-rate intelligence, thinking.  “Love, Jack.”

Now this is kind of sad for a little kid.  “Dearest Jesus – I am doing the best I can.” 

This was a big poster, which I put on an index card.  You’ve heard this before – I read this one every year.  On the big poster there was a picture of God at the top, a real smiling, friendly God with the traditional white beard and the crown, but he’s smiling.

And then there’s an arrow at the bottom leading up to the smiling deity, and Mark, who is 8, wrote on the poster, “Dear God, I am drawing a picture of you on this poster.  Follow the direction of the arrow.  I don’t see pictures of Jesus smiling.  Did Jesus smile?”  Now, the answer to that is emphatically, yes, our Lord had a complete human nature.  Of course he smiled.  I mean, with the 12 clowns he traveled with, he must have howled.  “Our own priest looks like his head hurts.  He never smiles, but kids love Jesus so I’m wondering if Jesus smiled.  Anyway, you dear God, smile in this poster if you just follow the arrow to the top.  Love, Mark.”

“Dear God, my father can never get a fire started.  Could you make a burning bush in our back yard?”

“Dear God, I’m sorry that I was late for Sunday school, but I could not find my underwear." Signed, Norman.

What I would like to do with your help, just for a minute we’ll be quiet and think with me.  We’ll think of some kid we knew when we were a kid ourselves, some kid who cheered us up or was a real pal or who stood up for us at a fight.  Some kid you can think of now with joy, and we’ll just think of that kid quietly for a minute.