The priest wrapped the Blessed Sacrament with the benediction veil and clutched the covered sacred vessel close to his chest. He then proceeded towards the altar where he was going to place our Lord for the midnight vigil. At one moment, for about a second or two, his face revealed a joyful semblance, like someone on the verge of giggling.
After the benediction, as the priest removed his vestments, the sacristan asked, “Father, I observed that before the benediction you smiled as if someone had told you something amusing.”
“In a way I was,” said the priest, “when I was holding our Lord so close to my breast, the edges of the clothing rubbed under my chin and tickled me. In a very spontaneous way I prayed, ‘Lord, thank you for tickling me!’”
* * *
One of the nagging questions that people ask about our Lord is if He was capable of telling jokes and giving his listeners a hearty and holy laugh. Those with a very rigid outlook would say this was unlikely because a ‘joke’ is a casual form of lying between two parties who agree to ‘fool each other’ for entertainment’s sake. And since our Lord Himself said, ‘I am the Truth…,’ then saying a joke would be contradictory to this divine statement.
Others, however, are inclined to believe, even though there is nothing explicit in the Gospels, that our Lord must have been capable of sharing a good laugh with His disciples. Moreover, I believe there is one particular episode in the Gospels that reveals how Jesus shared something so down-to-earth as enjoying daily restful human moments with those around Him.
Remember the mothers who wanted to present their children to our Lord? Perhaps, like all good mothers, they had a knack of sensing something humanly and spiritually attractive in the person of that Nazarene Rabbi. And they naturally would have wanted their children to be close to Him and even receive a blessing. Don’t we see this same attitude in mothers who usher their children to the priests after Mass to get a simple boost of spiritual blessing?
Now, what is interesting about this is that Jesus’ disciples began fending off the children. We really do not know why. Perhaps, they were only concerned about their Master’s welfare. After all, having a herd of children for Him to bless could only exhaust Him from carrying out ‘more important tasks’. Aren’t adults always thinking in such a complicated way? But Jesus had something else in mind.
“Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them; for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.” The disciples must have been totally surprised. After all, they were only trying to help their Master something in insignificantly bothersome. Instead, He tells them to allow the little ones to come, and Jesus ‘laid His hands on them and went away.’
Interestingly, Mathew closes his narration without any further elaboration. This is only to be expected since what else can you expect Jesus to say to or do with the children? Our experience being with children is simply being with them. And we know what to expect since there is nothing more natural than to be children ourselves when we are with ‘little ones’.
Being with children means becoming like them, talking and acting like them, and maybe wanting to see a smile on their faces (with missing dentures) or hear them giggling by gently tickling or making funny faces at them. Surely, this was also what Jesus did! He would have carried the smaller ones, and when about to go, He made sure to bless each one of them. How lucky those children were!
With these considerations, it would not be so difficult to think of allowing our Lord to also ‘tickle us’ during the day. This means discovering how He can open for us, even in the most common and monotonous moments, something to be happy and amused about. How exactly could this be understood?
Consider being tickled in prayer. These are wonderful moments when we converse with our Lord and are grateful for ‘graced memories’. We strive to recall the moments when God in a mysterious way has led us to Himself, answered our prayers –though not immediately–, and even allowed trials that later on turned out to be blessings. In the end, like the saints, we learn to ‘laugh at ourselves’ for not knowing how to trust and correspond to all these graces from God.
Tickled in the sacraments like the Eucharist and Confession. When we attend Mass we once again become children who are dazzled with the miraculous presence of Jesus playing hide-and-seek. In confession we also become little through humility as we allow the divine doctor to cure our ailments, and though sinful we come out sorrowful and cheerful because we are more confident in the Fatherly mercy of God.
Tickled by the Cross. When God sends us the cross in its varying weights and shapes, it is not because He wants to amuse Himself with our sufferings. On the contrary, He sends it to His favorite children so that they may be further perfected in His love. This made St. Josemaría say and preach that ‘there is no joy in a day without the mark of the Cross.’
Finally, there’s being tickled by God in and through others. This would mean family, friends and colleagues. As we strive to live in a more Christ-like manner with everyone, we constantly exude both joy and peace to them. But we also share memories of being together as we humanly bring up and treasure the noble, decent and prayerful ‘funny’ and ‘wacky’ moments of family, social and professional life.
These become restful and bonding moments that constantly help to bring a piece of heaven’s joy here on earth. “…for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.”