A Walk In the Wilderness

My recent encounter with the past has nearly convinced me of something that came into my mind only weeks earlier. I promised myself that if I ever felt as if I was in danger of falling back into the old life I would contact the only person who could truly remind me of why it was I left it in the first place. He never had any real stake in my life or I in his. We simply wanted to know the true, or at least what was false and contradictory. To this end we were wholly committed and it did not matter how far or fast either one of us walked from the faith of our youth, the other would not stretch out his hand to slow the momentum. In fact, we cherished this very characteristic of our relationship.

Periodically we would run through a list of outrageous offenses and blasphemies in order to test whether or not we would relent and break our solemn oath to each other—that the best argument always wins. Loyalty, perhaps not, but it was a type of honor among thieves that we shared. And it is clear to me that after my encounter with those who have never dared to step outside the faith, that their perspective will always be limited. Their question to me will always be, ‘when will you return?’ rather than, ‘what have you seen?’

After listening to Keith Green’s song about the prodigal son I decided to reread the parable myself. In the song, Keith does not mention the older son that faithfully stayed behind, but it is his reaction that sheds the most light on the story’s meaning. The eldest son is justifiable angry at all that has been lavished on his wayward brother. But listen to what the father says when the eldest laments that he was never been given even a small goat for a party, “but you have been with me always,” as if to point out to him that this is so much more than any one celebration. The parable does not capture the eldest son’s response to this, but it is clear from his initial reaction that he did not think it was enough. Perhaps the cliché that one does not know what one has until it is gone is as true of faith as it is of love and companionship.

The message of the prodigal son is not that God welcomes sinners, anyone who thinks the message is that simple does not understand the often hidden complexity of the parables. The true message is that those who consider themselves to be faithful and committed often risk losing a real sense of value of where they are. They believe that they have validated their salvation but they need to receive again an epiphany of their own brokenness. Obviously, it is difficult for me to be away from home, but it has given me a greater appreciation for it since I’ve been gone.

I remember remarking to Frank when he told me that I took the easy way out by leaving the faith that when he made a choice, no matter how it turned out, he could attribute the outcome to God’s sanctioning or God’s chastening of his action. However, when I made a choice, I had not such confidence, not such basis on which to move forward, the responsibility for every step I took was mine and mine alone and worse, no matter where I turned, the choice only amounted to greater or lesser degrees of meaninglessness. He felt he was moving toward something greater than himself while I always felt as if I was just grabbing enough air for my next breath. I need another perspective, a walk in the wilderness, but I am not sure that I am ready to face the Devil’s Advocate.