Where have you been? Where are you going? And why?
That Gospel draws us like the call of a jubilant voice deep in the woods. We hear, and we follow, and though we scarcely know how we know, we believe the source of the voice is good and the only thing worth knowing. All at once, we emerge from all sides in a clearing. We are cut from the thorns and weary to the bone. In the center of the clearing swirls a warm, symphonic light within which glows–depending on the tilt of the head–a patient eye, or an open hand, or the slender form of a man with his hands on his hips, laughing. And you know that it’s Him. Then the skill in your fingers, the ache in your heart, the talent in your soul–all of it–strains to do His work. It strains like a warhorse pawing the ground in the moments before the charge.