A lost tradition of play

I may spend most of my days at play now, but once upon a time I dabbled with theology. There are precedents I’m told, though on closer examination the company of the yurodivy (eastern orthodox fools-for-Christ) might not be comfortable… I wear more clothes for starters. But there is much to learn from figures like Ryokan, an 18c Buddhist monk of whom it is told that he forgot to claim his food on a regular basis because he was off at play with the village kids.

My latest find is the story of Jesus at play. Now a little biblical back ground; the New Testamenty bit as we know it was formed by different early churches having different favourite book written at different times, taking the Roman churches some 400 odd years (Synod of Hippo - a great name) from Christ’s death to form some sort of consensus. In the east, though mostly settled around the same time, the orthodox churches took closer to 1500 years (Synod of Jerusalem - not such a catchy name) to iron out all wrinkles.

One of the books that didn’t quite make it - probably because the child Jesus has a habit of divinely smiting bullies, kids that just don’t play nice and whinging parents - is the Infancy Gospels of Thomas. On the other hand he does bring them back/cure the withering after they’ve been seen to learn their lesson (there are two greek versions around, do go for version B, it’s more story and less bully smiting). It does though have a great story of Jesus at play. A story that, though being lost in the west, surfaces in Coptic mysticism and later the Qu’ran (5:110) possibly because of the depths of play and divinity it calls forth.

The Second Gospel of the Infancy of Jesus Christ - Chapter 1, from the 2^nd verse

²When the child Jesus was five years of age and there had been a shower of rain that was now over, Jesus was playing with other Hebrew boys by a running stream, and the waters ran over the banks and stood in little lakes; ³But the water readily obeyed him after he touched it only by his word, for it instantly became clear and useful again. ⁴Then he took from the bank of the stream some soft clay and formed out of it twelve sparrows; and there were other boys playing with him. ⁵But a certain boy seeing the things which he was doing, namely, his forming clay into the figures of sparrows on the Sabbath day, went presently away and told his father Joseph, ⁶“Behold, your boy is playing by the river side, and has taken clay and formed it into twelve sparrows, and profanes the Sabbath”. ⁷Then Joseph came to the place where he was, and when he saw him, called to him, and said, “Why do you that which is not lawful to do on the Sabbath day?” ⁸Then Jesus clapping together the palms of his hands, called to the sparrows, and said to them: “Go, fly away; and while you live remember me”.

There is so much good play in this story. There is mucking about in mud, there is creativity (even without the miraculous ending) and there is a healthy disregard for what has to be rather than what might possibly be. And best of all there is the slightly anarchic twisting of authority and the side-lining of a snitch. Such play is really human, yet a reflection of the divine… something I am lucky enough to get to see in much child’s play.

Maybe there is a lost Christian tradition of transformative play to be found in this story… or if not a lost tradition, one that is perhaps just a little too good at hide and seek.

tag... play, philosophising