They look soft. Cute. Cuddly. In photos and on television, monkeys are portrayed as adorable critters, albeit with a streak of benign Curious George mischief. My moments with monkeys suggest otherwise.
In South Africa, a monkey dove through the open door of our resort room, stole the bread off our counter and scampered up a tree with it (glaring at my wife as he stuffed it into his mouth).
In Kenya's Nairobi National Park, small monkeys stretched wildly from branch to branch then skittered down trunks. All this effort because some from our group were offering the diminutive primates potato chips. They were clearly accustomed to such exchanges, obviously comfortable snatching the chips from human hands.
The monkeys were willing to engage us as long as the treats kept coming. But there was never the slightest hint of gratitude or even simple satisfaction expressed on their furry faces. No cuddling. No friendly chatter. Just a beady-eyed stare in search of more.
As our open-top van trekked through the Nairobi National Park, uncomfortable truth settled on my soul. You and I—respectable born again folk—are often more like monkeys than men and women in awe of Christ's generosity.
We hungrily snatch every morsel of good that comes our way from the hand of our merciful Savior. Having consumed one “meal of grace,” we look for another and another and another. There is scarce thought toward any show of gratitude, humility, and loving dependence.
Like monkeys, we gather around God as long as His hand extends toward us with blessing and provision. But where is our thanks? After all, as James 1:17 reminds us, “Every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shifting shadow."
It’s time to stop acting like monkeys!