Several nights ago, after bedtime prayers, my five-year-old  looked into his babysitter’s eyes and sweetly uttered the ancient blessing “Peace be with you.” Now, aside from the sheer heart-melting cuteness factor, what makes this remarkable is that children—even my own dear angels—are by nature and habit tightly-wound bundles of self-absorption (especially at bedtime, when facing a dark night of solitude, strange noises and the occasional monster in the closet).  The Child’s Prayer, “Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep” would seem entirely appropriate here.  But instead, for one brief moment, a godly selflessness spilled out of my child’s mouth.  It’s enough to make a dad’s heart burst with pride!  That he would, in that instant, be concerned with the shalom of another is not just charming or precocious; it demonstrates that the Spirit is shaping the lives of my family through the liturgy of our little church.  This I believe is spiritual formation of the highest order.

At this point some might protest that spiritual formation is about an individual’s personal relationship with Jesus, that I place too much emphasis on a mere human action like the liturgy.  Yes, spiritual formation is about knowing Jesus (and the Father through him, by his Spirit).  But liturgy is no mere human action. Liturgies are the embodied practices and habits that give visible expression to a community’s basic beliefs; as such they are of deadly serious concern, because whether we acknowledge it or not, behind every liturgy moves a spirit.  In other words, the habits we embody—the liturgies by which we live our lives—rise out of, and give expression to, our ultimate allegiances.  And the scriptures teach us that we are allied either to God, and thus to life, or to false gods, and thus to death.  To illustrate this, consider the “liturgy” of fast food: our society values cheap, quick meals that serve the purpose of fueling our bodies with carbs and caffeine.  Thus, there have arisen in our communities little tabernacles of convenience, complete with drive-thrus for quick delivery.  And the High Priests of Madison Avenue make sure we pay homage to their gods from cradle to (early) grave.  Whenever my sons spot the Golden Arches, they can’t resist sounding the litany of praise: “McDonald’s! McDonald’s!”

I am not arguing that eating fast food is a sin or that the Child’s Prayer is purely selfish.  But like St. Francis’s prayer, “Lord, make me an instrument of your peace,” the ancient blessing, “Peace,” as uttered week after week in so many churches, is an expression of humility and spiritual maturity that stands squarely opposite the unrelenting selfishness of this age.   Maybe my son understood, in that moment, what he was really saying.