When the Prodigal Son is put at the center of this parable, it can easily center our own guilt and shame. Even if we know the rest of the story, we can sometimes focus too much on the son and end up feeling like the climax of the parable is an admission that we are “no more worthy to be called thy child.”

And the question is, living in these apocalyptic times, do we have time to be patient?  What would we do if we really do have another year, and beyond, to keep working the soil of our lives?  What destructive ways of thinking and acting could be transformed from a toxic stew into rich fertilizer for the beloved community?  Could this even be the year of celebration of all that is good and delicious, food for the body and soul?  What if the gardener had her way?

The challenge from Jesus for this journey is to keep our hearts open for wherever love expresses itself.  Where will love and healing come from?  It might not be our own people.  They may let us down.  But Divine love has a way of inhabiting the most surprising of places, and people.  Who is our neighbor?  It could be anybody, Jesus seems to be saying.  Even those people.  Don’t count anyone out.  Keep your heart open.  Who knows, we might be surprised, even shocked.

We see through this moment with the crowd that the mountaintop transfiguration is not an end, not an arrival. Jesus is en route: into retreat and back toward the people, toward life and healing and toward his own death, through which he will undergo another transfiguration. What might this en route, in-flux, transfigured, healing Jesus extend to us in this moment?