I notice: in, say imaginative reflections on the scriptures, I am always drawn to the bystander role.
Always tempted to be the surprised/wry onlooker. But there is another possible role – the active crowd member. The person who steps out to say to Bartimaeus, “Come, he is calling you.”
Also, that whenever counting the cost is read of, I am always the person asking “What must I do to follow you”. I am risk-averse. If Jesus told me to tot up the cost of my tower, I would say, I don’t think I can afford it. If he told me “let the dead bury their dead” when I needed to go and bury my father, I may well have punched him.
This is all very well for the imagination. But I must recognise my reality, I am not at the start of the journey. I have come some way, Rounding circles perhaps, but I have come some way. I am not a baby. Not even perhaps a rebellious teenager any more. I have to come to terms with the slightly complex relationship of an adult child. In human terms I have often told myself that this cannot be fundamentally altered. Do I believe this of my heavenly parent?