I’d never really talked seriously about God to my little brother in the Big Brothers Big Sisters program. I’ve known him for nearly four years. I see him regularly. He knows our family very well. He’s prayed with us at meal times. He’s gone to VBS – twice. And I’ve always known that he knows almost nothing about God.
So I asked him today to talk to me about God as we were driving. He’s 13 and comes from a very non-typical household. He also has trouble with his attention span – and was playing with the radio in the car -- so I repeatedly had to refocus the conversation. Basically, he recounted the story of Christ’s death. I’d heard him tell part of this story before. He’d seen it on a movie one time – about how they beat Jesus up, made him carry a cross, and then nailed him to it (here my little brother pointed to the center of each palm and then to his feet). Then he told me how they put the cross up on the side of a cliff next to another guy, and Jesus died. There was a woman there, he said. He thought she was Jesus’ mother. Then they put Jesus’ body in the ground and rolled a big rock in front of it. But when the woman went to look for him later, he wasn’t there. And then my little brother stopped talking.
Well, I said, where was Jesus? He just shrugged: “I don’t know. He was just gone.” What a sad answer! So I told him that Jesus didn’t stay dead, that he rose again and walked out of that tomb. I told him that Jesus died on that cross so we could live with him in heaven. But first we have to accept Jesus, to believe in him. I told my little brother he would have to make a decision one day about whether or not he believed in Jesus.
I asked whether he understood. He nodded. And then he shrugged and went back to fiddling with the radio.
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