First published March 17, 2010
The plaza guards are still on guard.
The now-walking man is long gone.
The helpful man is still talking.
“Think of a dad. Think of a grown son, working in the family business. They love each other. They trust each other. They work closely together, as if they are one. Sometimes, the son goes out to look at the fields to see how they are doing. Sometimes, the son goes out to check on the workshops, to see how repairs are coming. Sometimes, the son goes out to check on the sheep, talking softly so they know his voice.
When people look up, they can’t tell for sure who is coming toward them, father or son. They have the same walk. And somehow, the light is always behind them. When it’s the son, his words sound just like his dad.
And the dad has left decisions about how people are doing up to the son. The son is on the ground. People know him better. People can identify with him. People have heard him laugh, have seen him smile.
What people often forget, or maybe don’t realize, is that the son isn’t off on his own. He completely understands the family business, the goals, the plans, the purpose. His job is to put a human face on the business, but he is still completely committed to the dad’s view of, well, of everything.
When he has conversations, when he makes decisions, he has spent so much time with his dad that no one figure out where one’s thoughts leave off and the other’s start. And the decisions the son makes are the ones that will make his dad happy.”
The helpful man paused, pointing at the Father and Son Redemption Company sign: “That’s exactly how my dad and I are.”
From John 5