Our five-year-old Erin is never afraid to ask. For one thing, she has circled virtually everything in the Disney catalog. More than that, I overheard her approach Mommy the other day. "Mommy, can I open a Christmas present today?" Sue, my wife, gave the classic parental answer, "If you open your gifts now, you won't have any presents to open on Christmas." Erin didn't miss a beat, "But Mommy, Christmas isn't about presents, it's about love."

Hurray! She's not afraid to ask. And she's got it right about Christmas. It is about love.

The kids have a pretty clean understanding of love. Four to eight-year-olds were asked, "What does love mean?" Listen to some of the answers:

• When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn't bend over to paint her toenails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis, too. That's love (Rebecca, 8)
• When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You know that your name is safe in their mouth. (Billy, 4)
• Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on sharing cologne and they go out and smell each other. (Karl, 5)
• Love is what makes you smile when you're tired. (Terri, 4)
• Love is when Mommy makes coffee for Daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him to make sure it tastes okay. (Danny, 7)
• Love is when Mommy gives Daddy the best piece of chicken. (Elaine, 5)
• Love is when Mommy sees Daddy smelly and sweaty and still says his handsomer than Robert Redford. (Chris, 8)
• Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day. (Mary Ann, 4)
• I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones. (Lauren, 4)
• Love is when Mommy sees Daddy on the toilet and doesn't think it's gross. (Mark, 6) -You really shouldn't say 'I love you' unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget. (Jessica, 8)
• Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen. (Bobby, 5)

Whoever these children are, they've got it right. Usually, with the slightest bit of prompting and modeling, they're not afraid of loving and being loved. Children crave love, thrive on it and are usually very good at it. Predisposed it seems to that risky game called love, that we are not always so swift to jump into. Messy, costly. They aren't afraid of loving. Some of us have been burned or wounded or suffered losses when we have dared to love a lot. Then we get guarded, careful, private…

WHAT ELSE DO CHILDREN TEACH US?

They aren't afraid of believing, either. Call it naiveté, if you want to be cynical. Call it pre-tribulation, if you want to wrap it in theological terms. Call it pre-pubescent if you prefer to be developmental. But kids have a knack for believing.

There are some notions wrapped up in the Christmas story that require childlike believing. One notion is that there is another realm of reality that coexists with this realm, with one Lord over both realms, heaven and earth. Childlike faith believes this God to be knowable.

Another notion is that those realms have occasionally intersected, by special revelation and angelic visits from above, and most notably when the Son of God crossed into our reality, making the knowable God better known.

Another notion is that God created humanity with intrinsic worth and that God declared our worth the day God's Son came down.

Another notion is that God wants to bring peace on earth, a notion so childlike that we reserve it for Miss America pageants and label it a ditsy notion. "I want world peace." More specifically, this gift, this baby, came to be a peace-maker and a reconciler, bringing Creator and Created Ones back into healthy relationship, all with the notion that persons at peace become peaceable persons. Peace on earth and mercies mild, God and sinners reconciled. Such a notion. Who can believe it?

When the angel tells the shepherds, "Do not be afraid," I know that they angel means "Don't be afraid of me." But in a broader sense, the angel seems to be saying, "Don't be afraid to believe what your senses are telling you. Don't' be afraid to stand here or kneel here or bow here, whatever feels right and don't be afraid to hear us out. Don't be afraid to journey to Bethlehem and see the Savior for yourself. Don't be afraid to tell your story. Don't be afraid to join the angel chorus. Don't be afraid to glorify God. Don't be afraid to believe.

Like love, believing is messy and believing is costly. If these notions are true, then the truth makes a claim upon us, as it always does. We cannot really believe this passively. If the child is who He claims to be, then that means a new life for me with new priorities and new attentions and awareness's. It means a new purpose statement a set of values initiated by this child savior. And most of those new priorities and attentions and awareness's and purposes and values are about love, something we were created for and predisposed to give and receive with so considerable prowess - like a child.

I know that some forms of love require adult like moxie and the seasoned muscles of maturity. I know that adults have a lot to teach kids about all kinds of things. And I know that in this modern world faith requires some capacity for sensible justification and a reasonable defense.

But believing, like love, is at its best when it's free and dexterous and inquisitive and teachable and unafraid. Believing, like loving, is at its best when it doesn't mind a little mess and isn't afraid of a little risk - childlike.

Some would say, of course, that it's much riskier not to believe. From a position of believing, of course I agree. But I'm sympathetic to the other. Some people would think us fools for believing these childlike notions - that is, of course, the primary risk in this culture. Scorn. A blow to our pride. Somehow being reduced in the eyes of others in a place where intellect is king.

But I'm not convinced that people are so happy living in a realm where mere intellect reigns over faith and hope and extravagant love. And I'm not even sure that it's such a smart way to live. It sounds so mundane…so little to believe and exult in. It sounds so painfully adult. How many goods things do we grow out of.

Jesus, of course, says that there is another realm and that if we want to enter in we must become like a little child. The suggestion is that we need to grow down into a new kind of spiritual and mental muscularity and maturity - learning to risk loving and believing and exulting.

Chesterton, I think, wrote,

"Children are fierce and free [when they find some game or joke they especially enjoy…] they say 'do it again', and the grown up person does it again until he is nearly dear. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, 'Do it again' to the sun; and every evening 'Do it again' to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it maybe that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the external appetite of infancy; FOR WE HAVE SINNED AND GROWN OLD AND OUR FATHER IS YOUNGER THAN WE.

Don't be afraid. Dare to love. Dare to believe. Dare to ask. Father, this Christmas, make me a child again.

At the very least, let's revel in the fact that central figure in human history is pure and peaceable, gentle, reasonable. We join more people that ever before on every continent that supports human life, to honor the birth of Jesus.