“Daddy, have I seen Jesus?”
The question emerges from the back seat darkness. It’s late, way past bedtime. One son, sixteen months, already is conked on the trip home from Grannie’s. The radio’s off, and after several minutes of highway hum I realize my other son, three and a half years, has not, after all, been chasing his brother to Neverland. He’s been ruminating.
For years he’s heard about Jesus; suddenly it occurs to him that he’s never actually met the Fellow. Recently he’s been asking all his acquaintances if they know each other. Has Grannie met Kylie? Has Kylie met Sam? Has Sam met Aunt Kate? How fascinating to realize kaleidoscope of faces and names in his life isn’t a radial wheel, himself at center – it’s a webwork of possible cross-connection. Some people he hasn’t met, like his mother’s mother’s mother, or his aunt’s boss’s wife. Still, they’re not mentioned often. Somehow there’s a person everyone else seems to know, someone he himself has never met. (more…)