Friday, November 19, 2010

Another Zoe question

On the way home from school last night, Zoe and I were talking about her day as we always do.  She is very excited as Monday is a pajama party day at school and they're going to watch a movie and have hot chocolate and smarshsmallows and Junior Mints.  Then she was quiet for a minute, and then out popped some of those questions only children ever ask.

"Mommy?"
"Yes, Zo?"
"God made everything, right?"

This is where I started to sweat.  Oh, jeez.  It's not that question that freaks me out, it's whatever she comes up with after that question.  The lead-in question is always relatively easy.  It's the follow-up that's impossible.

"Yes, Zoe.  God made everything."

"Well, then, who made God?"

I mumbled something about it being complicated and hard to understand and I don't know but I could find someone who does, and then was thankful, again, that we're sending her to Catholic school where people far more versed in religion than I can answer these questions.

I also wondered why on earth her father never seems to have to field these questions.  Although, I'm not sure he's the right person to answer her, either.

When I was going through RCIA in college, I asked a nun (Sister Julie, who was a freakin' rockstar nun) to please explain the holy trinity.  I wasn't grasping it.  She responded, "Your boyfriend is a cradle Catholic, right?  Why don't you ask him?  It'll be a nice conversation for the two of you."  Okay, cool.  M and I hadn't talked hardly at all about religion or Catholicism up to that point.  I think he was as shocked as anyone when I announced I was in RCIA.  So that night, on the phone (I was at Mizzou, he was at Rolla), I explained my conversation with Sister Julie and asked him for help with the holy trinity.

"I dunno.  Father, Son, Holy Ghost.  They're all the same but they're different."

I could practically hear him shrugging over the phone.  So much for deep theological discussions with my cradle Catholic.

I think I may flip Zoe's question on over to the priest at our church.  The good one, not the hellfire and brimstone one.  I told the story here at work and someone suggested that I tell her God hatched from an egg.

Yeah, gonna go to the priest on this.  But it's good to know most mere mortals have no idea how to answer it in a way a 5-year-old can grasp.

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