I just finished reading The Road by Cormac McCarthy (I have not seen the movie based on the novel). Set in a post-apocalyptic America, it is about as hopeless a story as I've ever read. The novel tells the story of a father and son trying desperately to survive, walking the road toward wherever it takes them, looking for the "good guys" who may be able to help them. At its heart, it is a story about people who are lost who seek a place to be safe and be known (I won't write anymore about the plot to avoid giving anything away).
While it is a dark story, I believe it is worth reading. Looking beyond the plot and the post-apocalyptic setting, McCarthy tells a story that resonates with the yearning of the early 21st century -- the yearning for relationship, for community, for belonging, for home. Perhaps, like the prodigal son in Jesus' parable (see the gospel of Luke, chapter 15), it is accurate to say that people today -- living a life often uprooted from family and close friends -- simply want to be found.
McCarthy articulates this desire -- this yearning -- in his story (The Road, page 245):
He loaded the flarepistol and as soon as it was dark they walked out down the beach away from the fire and he asked the boy if he wanted to shoot it.
You shoot it, Papa. You know how to do it.
Okay.
He cocked the gun and aimed it out over the bay and pulled the trigger. The flare arced up into the murk with a long whoosh and broke somewhere out over the water in a clouded light and hung there. The hot tendrils of magnesium drifted slowly down the dark and the pale foreshore tide started in the glare and slowly faded. He looked down at the boy's upturned face.
They couldn't see it very far, could they, Papa?
Who?
Anybody.
No. Not far.
If you wanted to show where you were.
You mean like to the good guys?
Yes. Or anybody that you wanted them to know where you were.
Like who?
I don't know.
Like God?
Yeah. Maybe somebody like that.
Reading that scene makes me wonder . . . How many people around us -- people we see every day at work, at school, in the neighborhood, at the store, and in our homes -- are sending up "flares" hoping that God or the good guys or "somebody like that" will see the flare and find them?
Isn't that a core job of the church? To notice? To see the "flares" that people send out?
Makes me think . . . I wonder if we've been so intent on getting our message out that we have not listened well enough to the yearning of the people who live right around us.
What might happen if we made it a task of the church to be on the look out for "flares"? How might we and the community we call the church be transformed, if we opened our eyes to the signals of those around us, the signals of those who yearn to be found?
Oh yes, once we've seen the "flares" it would be a good idea to reach out and invite the person who sent up the flare to come to church, to discover a faithful, Christian community in which all parts of the "Body of Christ" are cherished and respected. Even better, it would be a great idea to invite them into a relationship with Jesus.
Hmmmm . . . That may be the hardest part of all.
What do you think?
