Keeping it Real

What do you suppose Pinocchio is really about? Thinking back on Disney’s version of the Old Italian fairy tale, what stood out for me was the fear that my nose would grow whenever I lied. Well, somewhere around ‘93 songwriter Tanya Donelly and her band, Belly, infected me with the phrases: “hey Gepetto” and “just like Gepetto.” And, their song Gepetto suggested that there may be more to this old woodcarver than meets the eye. I guess I never got over that. I suppose I see in Geppetto (Italian spelling) something of a father-figure; a loving creator who wants nothing more than for his little woodenhead to become a real child. One that can dance and sing and laugh and play. One that can be loved by him and love him back. No strings attached. Here’s an image of our relationship with God that works for me.

There’s also an interesting exchange between the Blue Fairy and Pinocchio on the workbench. She gives him life – but this does not make him real. “There is no magic that can make us real.” She says, “I have given you life—the rest is up to you.” What do you make of that? I wonder if “real” means here the same as: authentic, sincere, genuine or bona fide? I wonder if there’s something of Job 33:4; John 6:63; Acts 2:1-12; or 2 Corinthians 3:6 in the gift of life as opportunity, not guarantee. Maybe Pinocchio’s Big Adventure (and our own) is discovering what it means to be authentic, sincere, genuine, bona fide, real boys and girls – sons and daughters of a loving, Heavenly Father?

Along the way, Pinocchio runs into some pretty shady characters: a fire-eating showman and puppet master; a coachman to Pleasure Island; a sly old fox and a stupid cat. He gets into some hairy situations and almost makes a complete ass (literally) of himself. Sound like anybody you know? But, let’s not forget good old Jiminy Cricket (who seems to have made up his mind to never leave or forsake Pinocchio)! And, let’s not fail to appreciate the depth (to the very bottom of the sea) of this little wooden boy’s repentance; the humility of his confession, “What does life mean to me without my father?” Or, the rejoicing over his conversion: “Geppetto stared unbelievingly. Once more he picked Pinocchio up in his arms and hugged him, and cried—this time for joy. Again a miracle had been performed; this was truly the answer to his wish—the [child] he had always wanted!”

Sounds bona fide (Latin for “in good faith”) to me.