The interaction with Sweeney in the Dalriada woods is at Scott’s initiation. The idea of some mysterious Irish performance artist (whatever that is) living in the woods proves to be too much for him to resist. His suburban neighborhood near Indianapolis definitely didn’t have one of those. Scott reaches out to Sweeney just to see what all that’s about, despite the warnings from both Henry and Elena.
What Scott gets is a modern-day John the Baptist who presents himself as the Questions Department, unwilling to offer pat answers to Scott’s questions.
“You’re an interesting case. Most giddy young pilgrims find ‘know thyself’ to be endlessly fascinating. Can’t get enough of their own brilliance. I suspect you’ve had a traumatic episode of incurvatus in se. Let’s get you looking outside your own head. Ready?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“Do you accept that the material world exists? You know, matter and energy and the like? Or are you one of them, a prisoner of your own feelings? Shoes, ships, sealing wax, cabbages, kings, those are all real, yes? Real for you, real for me, really real?”
“Yeah, I’m good with that.”
“Brilliant. So, here’s your question: What, besides nature, exists? If it helps, it can be restated as—”
Scott is dismayed. “You see, Mr. Sweeney, that’s just the problem…”
“Sweeney.”
“Sweeney, sorry. How do I even begin to think about that question?”
“You want an easier question, then?”
“Yes!”
“Right. Here’s your question: What is twice two?”
Peeved, Scott replied, “I’m guessing the answer isn’t four.”
“This isn’t a game show, it’s the Questions Department. If you’re determined to think, then you don’t want to waste time on the wrong questions. Or are you such nonsense on stilts that you’re going to jump right into the God question unprepared?”
The starter questions Sweeney asks are catechism staples: What do you fear, love, and trust above all things? Luther’s Small Catechism, when teaching about the First Commandment states:
“You shall have no other gods. What does this mean? We should fear, love, and trust God above all things.”
The answer is succinct, powerful, and completely impenetrable. The catechumen must parse it out, explore every aspect of it, understand the importance of every word, apply it to his own life. Scott, unfamiliar with this method of teaching, is confounded, and immediately points to superficial things he loves like pizza and chocolate. He wants answers. Easy answers.
“How do you know when you’ve found the answer?”
“So, you’re comfortable with facts, then?”
“I guess so.”
“What, you’re not stone cold certain that maple trees, Saturn, and bloody cod fish actually exist? Want a moment to think it over, sky pilot?”
“No, I’m certain.”
“Highly irregular, but I’ll try to frame the problem for you. There’s not a single fact about the entire universe that is either good or bad. Take all the facts from all the disciplines of scientific inquiry and stack them one atop another, and not a single one of them, or any combination of any or all of them, is either good or bad. Facts merely are.”
“I’m not sure what, exactly…”
“Is gravity good or bad? The four states of matter, good or bad? Drosophilia melanogaster, good or bad?”
“Facts merely are. Uh, what was that last one?”
“Fruit fly.”
“Oh.”
“So, are you squared away, then? What’s your question?”
“’What, besides nature, exists?’”
“Brilliant. So, nature is knowable through what?”
“Facts.”
“And to be clear, good, bad, value, purpose, meaning, ends, and truth are what?”
Scott took a guess. “Not facts?”
“And your three warm-up questions are…?”
Scott made notes as fast as he could in his notebook. “‘Good, bad, value, purpose, meaning, ends, and truth are not facts.’”
“Your three warm-up questions?”
“’What do I fear? What do I love? What do I trust?’”
Sweeney prompts him, “Above all else.”
Scott writes it down. “’Above all else.’”
Only as the story unfolds does he come to realize the place that God occupies in our lives and Scott’s answers to those questions take on more profound meaning.
What Then? 