I am teaching a class on the parables of treasure in the Gospel of Matthew this morning. Parable: from the Greek verb; from nouns in Old French and Latin: to throw beside, to cast alongside; a comparison.
I have been thinking about some of my own:
The compassion of God is like a mountaintop above the treeline: devoid of green, buffeted by wind, steady, still, silent, its surface aglow in the moonlight.
The compassion of God is like a lake at dawn: still, silent, deep, with its mysteries submerged below the surface.
The compassion of God is a like a house early in the morning: a still, silent, receptacle of memories and repository of hope.