In the Shoes of the Whos
This weekend was absolutely amazing. D-Now weekends are always some of the best of the school year. Last night after the worship service, we went back to our host home and watched Horton Hears a Who. Yes, I'm aware that it's based on a book by Dr. Seuss. Yes, I realize that I'm probably a bit old for this movie. No, it was not my pick. But yes, I did thoroughly enjoy it. The movie was very funny and all of us were cracking up constantly. It was also very thought-provoking. I know, not exactly what comes to mind when you think of a Dr. Seuss flick.
I'm not going to delve into every thought that was provoked by watching this movie, but I am going to share one. Maybe you've seen this movie and you noticed this too. Maybe you've seen it and you didn't. Maybe you haven't seen it yet, in which case you may or may not want to continue reading. I'd hate to be responsible for ruining the movie for you. So consider this your fair warning.
Okay, here it is. I'll set the scene: The mayor has been trying to find a way to convince the city council that their entire world is actually quite small and exists on a speck--a speck that is resting on a clover and is being protected by a kind elephant named Horton. I suppose trying to explain such a phenomenon without sounding like a lunatic would be quite a challenge. Anyway, a bunch of strange happenings have occurred and the entire town is gathered in front of the mayor's house. The mayor is perched on his roof, next to a horn that's connected to his gutter, which is where Horton's voice comes from. This is how he and Horton communicate. After the mayor explains the situation, he asks Horton to say something to prove to the others that he exists.
After a few complications, Horton's voice comes through loud and clear. The crowd is in shock. Soon, however, shock turns into elation and the town is going crazy. They believe.
The mayor is beaming and replies into the horn with a calm, steady confidence: "We're all here. And we all believe in you."
When I heard that, my initial thought was simply, "whoa." Already, I thought the movie held an interesting parallel: a world whose very existence relied on someone far bigger and far more in control than they could ever be...much like our world and the God who is in total control of our existence, who we must rely on completely. Of course, in the real world there aren't other characters chilling on the same level as God; no bossy kangaroos in need of an attitude check or large communities of gorillas that are easily swayed by propaganda. That would just be weird.
But try to follow, for the purpose of this blog entry.
Horton represents God: big, mighty, in total control, and holding our entire world in His hands. (or in this case, a trunk)
We are the Whos of Whoville: small, helpless, totally reliant on Him, and so very precious to the One who holds us.
What if we were in the shoes of the Whos? (That rhyme was not intentional, I promise)
What if we came together as one community-one body of people-ready to communicate with God? Ready to hear His voice, whatever message He might have for us? What if we all came before him as one and said "We're all here. And we all believe?"
How awesome would that be?
After all, isn't that exactly what He desires? For every single person to hear Him, acknowledge Him, and accept Him for who He is?
1 Timothy 2 starts off talking about things that are pleasing to the Lord, "who wants all men to be saved and to come to a knowledge of the truth." (vs.4)
How cool would it be if, even for one minute, God had the attention of every single person in the world? If those of us who have placed our trust in Him could round up everybody else and get them to listen long enough for God to say something-just so they could hear His voice and believe that He's there?
After the mayor told Horton that all the Whos believed in him, Horton's face glowed and he grinned as wide as his elephant face would allow. (which was pretty wide, actually) As he was basking in the moment, his simple reply was something like, "Wow. That's awesome," accompanied by a sigh of accomplishment or fulfillment. I imagine Horton's reaction as being similar to what God's would be like if every person decided to get to know Him. I think He would beam, soaking up every ounce of the praise we offered up, radiating a silent reply of "finally."
Finally, they came.
Finally, they heard me.
Finally, they know me.
I can't help but think of how awesome that would be-or rather, how awesome that it is going to be. The coolest part about all of this is that, in the end, everyone who puts their trust in Him will come together as one community-one body of believers. All of His children will stand in awe before Him, the One who is both Creator and Savior of the world, and with one voice we will joyfully proclaim: "We're all here. And we all believe."
I'm not going to delve into every thought that was provoked by watching this movie, but I am going to share one. Maybe you've seen this movie and you noticed this too. Maybe you've seen it and you didn't. Maybe you haven't seen it yet, in which case you may or may not want to continue reading. I'd hate to be responsible for ruining the movie for you. So consider this your fair warning.
Okay, here it is. I'll set the scene: The mayor has been trying to find a way to convince the city council that their entire world is actually quite small and exists on a speck--a speck that is resting on a clover and is being protected by a kind elephant named Horton. I suppose trying to explain such a phenomenon without sounding like a lunatic would be quite a challenge. Anyway, a bunch of strange happenings have occurred and the entire town is gathered in front of the mayor's house. The mayor is perched on his roof, next to a horn that's connected to his gutter, which is where Horton's voice comes from. This is how he and Horton communicate. After the mayor explains the situation, he asks Horton to say something to prove to the others that he exists.
After a few complications, Horton's voice comes through loud and clear. The crowd is in shock. Soon, however, shock turns into elation and the town is going crazy. They believe.
The mayor is beaming and replies into the horn with a calm, steady confidence: "We're all here. And we all believe in you."
When I heard that, my initial thought was simply, "whoa." Already, I thought the movie held an interesting parallel: a world whose very existence relied on someone far bigger and far more in control than they could ever be...much like our world and the God who is in total control of our existence, who we must rely on completely. Of course, in the real world there aren't other characters chilling on the same level as God; no bossy kangaroos in need of an attitude check or large communities of gorillas that are easily swayed by propaganda. That would just be weird.
But try to follow, for the purpose of this blog entry.
Horton represents God: big, mighty, in total control, and holding our entire world in His hands. (or in this case, a trunk)
We are the Whos of Whoville: small, helpless, totally reliant on Him, and so very precious to the One who holds us.
What if we were in the shoes of the Whos? (That rhyme was not intentional, I promise)
What if we came together as one community-one body of people-ready to communicate with God? Ready to hear His voice, whatever message He might have for us? What if we all came before him as one and said "We're all here. And we all believe?"
How awesome would that be?
After all, isn't that exactly what He desires? For every single person to hear Him, acknowledge Him, and accept Him for who He is?
1 Timothy 2 starts off talking about things that are pleasing to the Lord, "who wants all men to be saved and to come to a knowledge of the truth." (vs.4)
How cool would it be if, even for one minute, God had the attention of every single person in the world? If those of us who have placed our trust in Him could round up everybody else and get them to listen long enough for God to say something-just so they could hear His voice and believe that He's there?
After the mayor told Horton that all the Whos believed in him, Horton's face glowed and he grinned as wide as his elephant face would allow. (which was pretty wide, actually) As he was basking in the moment, his simple reply was something like, "Wow. That's awesome," accompanied by a sigh of accomplishment or fulfillment. I imagine Horton's reaction as being similar to what God's would be like if every person decided to get to know Him. I think He would beam, soaking up every ounce of the praise we offered up, radiating a silent reply of "finally."
Finally, they came.
Finally, they heard me.
Finally, they know me.
I can't help but think of how awesome that would be-or rather, how awesome that it is going to be. The coolest part about all of this is that, in the end, everyone who puts their trust in Him will come together as one community-one body of believers. All of His children will stand in awe before Him, the One who is both Creator and Savior of the world, and with one voice we will joyfully proclaim: "We're all here. And we all believe."
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