For a person is not a Jew who is one outwardly, nor is circumcision something that is outward in the flesh, but someone is a Jew who is one inwardly, and circumcision is of the heart by the Spirit … (Romans 2:28, 29)
“Please share some words at our haircutting ceremony for Mary Rani.” My ministry partner held his hand on the curly head of a timid five-year-old girl as he invited me to speak.
A hundred beaming friends gathered beneath a scalloped canopy in Nellore, India. The dark of night hides India’s dilapidation and transforms it into a festival of strung flowers and garden lights. No one could tell us why children have their hair shorn, or what words should be said on such an occasion. They only knew it was a right of passage out of infancy.
Cultural neanderthal that I am, I pronounced the girl’s name as “Biryani,” which is a famous Indian rice dish. As the crowd laughed, I held the soft ringlets, Dani clipped the first locks from the precious lamb, and the Holy Spirit passed some appropriate words into my heart.
“We cut this child’s hair as a sign that the one thing she might take pride in, her beautiful hair, is to be humbled—circumcised if you will—before her God. Nothing in Mary Rani’s life should ever be treasured above him.”
As Mary Rani walked about with her deer like eyes, and shaved to the scalp, an important truth settled into both of us. If we allow it, our pride will focus on gifts from God more than on him. Temporarily foregoing the gift lets us worship the Giver without distraction.
Pride is a weed whose roots won’t be pulled until the end of time. In the interim, I must scissor off its growth every day. Thank you, Mary Rani, for that much needed reminder.
Prayer: Holy Father, cut my heart into pieces that will submit to you.