It has been years since I read a book of Christian exegesis, and this one brought up so many interesting responses in me. 

First was respect for a human who has clearly put in much effort to understand and align himself with his God. I cannot read the spiritual explorations of another without feeling moved - even if my experience of the same stories is very different. It was an interesting experience for me to try to live in the tension of giving space to truly hear Nouwe's experience, without feeling that it has to be my own.  As I read this book, I was reminded of a recent exercise in another book that asked readers to write about a god they were willing to believe in. In some ways, much of the Christian apologetics I read feels like this - restructuring and retelling difficult stories so that good people can come to terms with them, can create the God they are willing to worship. I have infinite respect for humans who treat their traditions as precious, while seeking to purify and improve them.

Next was a reflection on the prodigal vs. the older sons. Nouwe's exploration of those two themes is wise and self-reflective, even as I feel it often bears the imprint of a structure that is enforced rather than natural (he is trying to explain something he takes as given, rather than asking whether the given thing is true).  I remember many of the feelings he expresses, even as they no longer feel as resonant to me. As a younger person who trod the path carefully, the older brother's resentment was the most relatable part of the story for me. Nouwe also discusses the parable of the laborers in the vineyard, which was another I struggled with. The unfairness of feeling stuck generally - of being stuck 'at home', stuck in opportunity, stuck in struggle, of being assured that to explore outside the confines of the established structure was sinful, but also that the sinners who ventured out would be given as much as those who stayed - felt deeply resentment-inducing. 

Nouwe of course spends plenty of time talking about the depths of the prodigal's depravity, but also how the older son should have just let go of his resentment and learned to love. As I was listening to this, I couldn't help but think of the parable of the talents. Here, it is the worker who doesn't take risks, who simply 'stays at home' who is punished. There, the worker's resentment is not surprising. The message is clear: it is better to take risks than to stagnate. Could the prodigal son not be a similar message? The older brother is, in fact, being punished - not deliberately, but by losing out on all of the experience he could have had by venturing out into the world. He does not simply need to "let go" of his resentment - he needs to make active choices that alleviate those feelings, perhaps by venturing into the world himself. In the parable of the talents, the worker's risks pay off. In the prodigal son, the son's risks don't pay off - but in both situations, risk is rewarded. Experience is rewarded (is, in fact, its own reward), while unquestioning obedience leads only to resentment.

Finally, Nouwe talks of the father, and it was here that I came to better understand one of my own concerns as Nouwe  discussed being "the beloved" of the father as he talks of the sons. Christianity seems to impose a hierarchical structure - you are the beloved of the father, simultaneously infinitely lovable and always striving to be worthy of His love, OR you are the lover, like God, having infinite capacity and infinite forgiveness. Nouwe talks of learning to be the lover as he discusses the father, but this brought back for me a fundamental disagreement: that you must be "the lover" or "the beloved". In this formulation, neither seems to be able to show up in the relationship as both needy and capable. How much healthier and better would it be to envision ourselves and those we engage with as lovers, in communion with each other? As lovers, we are each capable of giving and receiving, healing and being broken, seeing and being seen. Here the father's joy makes sense because the loss of his son was heartbreaking - he had relied on the love and support and affirmation of his child. The son, also, is able to rejoice not just in being reunited, but in offering his father the return of his own love. Even switching from beloved to lover does not capture that we must be able to see ourselves as both in one.

Even so - being able to re-engage with these concepts was a fantastic journey for me. I am grateful for the recommendation, from a human with whom I hope to be able to engage in many more such explorations.