The Invisible Woman

By Jack Krayenhoff

There once was a movie, called The Invisible Man, in which a scientist developed a pill that made him invisible, though he could still speak audibly and act physically. It enabled him to do anything he liked with impunity. Think of the possibilities! When Christine was a child she was a bit of a tomboy, and she used to fantasize about the wonderful pranks she would be able to play on people if she could make herself invisible. And now, as an old lady, she had seen her wish fulfilled: she had become invisible, and that without any pill.

This is what had happened: she was sitting in a circle of fifteen people or so, all younger than herself, and a person of some importance entered the room. That man began to greet everybody, beginning with the people on her left, one by one, mentioning them by name. After he had greeted the person on her left, he skipped Christine and said 'hello David' to her right-hand neighbour, and proceeded from there. Christine was sure he knew her name all right, and also that he had not been deliberately rude. No, she realized he just had not noticed her. She had been invisible to him.

The event did not upset her, because she was humble and therefore not easily offended, but it was startling all the same by its unexpectedness. How was it that a perfectly decent and otherwise well-mannered man would be capable, though unconsciously, of such flagrant rudeness?

Then it came to her. She had just been reading in her bible about Jesus paying particular attention to children, and how we should all become like them. Why was that? Because they were so sweet and innocent? Hardly - any mother watching her dear children scrapping with each other and playing fast and loose with the truth about who was to blame knows that this sweetness and innocence can only exist in the minds of people who have no children themselves. No - it must have been because children were teachable and trusting - unlike those scribes and pharisees who knew their bible frontwards and backwards. They were the experts in religion; no wandering evangelist was going to teach them anything. But children? They were unimportant. They were OK if they were good but when it came to important issues, they might as well not be there. They were invisible. But they responded to Jesus, and he loved them for it.  

Yes, that was it, she thought: I am an old lady now, and I am no longer an important factor in society. I have lost whatever power and influence I once had, so it is safe to ignore me. I am becoming invisible, just like those children.

So what should she have done? Should she have challenged that man who ignored her, and taken him down a peg or two? Should she take the advice of Dr. Alex Comfort who recommended that old people should become 'feisty'?  A 'Raging Granny'?

She didn't think so. If she was becoming invisible like those children anyway, she would rather become like them also in becoming more teachable and trusting towards her Master. Speaking of a second childhood, that would be making the best of it!

Well, reader, what do you think? Imagine Jesus making an inspection tour of  churches today, and imagine him entering one that was full of old ladies like Christine. What would he say? Would he say, "This place is no good - nothing but old ladies here." Or would he say, "Let the old ladies come to me, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these"?