Because even an easy question like “Which child did the will of his father” leads to another more difficult question: which child are you? Which child am I? Our willingness to let these ancient stories nudge at us, poke at us, and even interrogate us is what faithful engagement is all about.
The wisdom of God calls to us still, saying our economies don’t have to be built on the stingy ideas of our small minds.
“But here’s the question the parable poses to us. What do you need to forget? And what do you need to remember? Do you ever find yourself remembering and ruminating on some hurt you know you need to be set free from somehow and forgetting the many gifts and graces that have arrived in your life since the first breath you drew this morning? I sure do.”
One of the questions that kept coming to me during the sabbatical was: ‘Saved for what?’ That’s still an open question for me, and perhaps it is for all of us. But that ride with Cloudy and Hadrian and my coffee with Phil propelled me closer to an answer, or at least gave me a new beginning toward slowing down and taking the time just to live that question.
If we let ourselves be drawn toward the mystery of the God who has no adequate name, we might also let ourselves be drawn toward the mystery of each other. Because your name is inadequate to who you are in the depths of yourself as well, as is the name of the person you think you know best in this world and the name of your oldest and archest enemy.