“What do you think? A man had two sons. Now he came to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work in the vineyard today.’“‘No, I don’t want to,’ he replied. But later he changed his mind and went.“The father said the same thing to the other son, who replied, ‘Yes, sir.’ But he didn’t go.“Which one of these two did his father’s will?” They said, “The first one.” Jesus said to them, “I assure you that tax collectors and prostitutes are entering God’s kingdom ahead of you.Matthew 21:28-31 (Common English Bible)
We have no greater threat to our life with God than this: an inconsistency between what we say and what we do. We cannot afford to be mockingbirds who blurt out melodies of faith arising from pretend experience. Let what we say be naked doubt or pylons of assurance, but may we stray far from an impostor’s song.
“Are you able?” Jesus asks.
I like words. I want words. I want to hear them pass across my consciousness and disrupt the quiet unease I feel when no word is there. I yearn for the distraction of a word, the engagement of a word. I fear, too quickly, I jump full sail into the words which dribble from my loose lips, but no paper towel can whisk away the mess I often make with my words.
If I am to say a word, may the word be full – full of my heart, full of my mind, full of my body.
If I am to form a word and let it fly out of me into the wide open world, let it be like this:
The Word became Flesh and dwelt among us.