Who are you, really?
"Where are you from?"
I believe it has to be the most common question you hear while traveling.
(Whereas the most common question proffered if you run into people you don't know in Louisville is "Where'd you go to high school?")
It’s a well-meaning query. But, I think it's a question that, at its core, is mostly an attempt to filter people down to manageable bits, as if where you're from has a direct effect on how you, as a person, should be addressed and then placed into our fragile mental filing cabinets, if further considered at all.
What subjects can be easily discussed before we both move on?
What common point of experience can we tap into in this (likely) short-lived relationship?
It's a close cousin to the question that we ask at nearly every other type of get together, namely, "What do you do?"
Maybe this type of question represents the best the human brain is capable of, said brain only being able to (or interested enough in?) comfortably placing people into more manageable boxes. Boxes with limited, preformated information that allow us to navigate a life filled with superficial encounters.
I hate the thought that this is what we most often do, but we do. I do it too. A lot.
I can't help but think back to two questions that Jesus once asked one of his first followers and friends, Simon. (Matthew 16)
"Who do other people say that I am?"
"Who do YOU say I am?"
While I can't claim to know what was on Jesus's mind at that time, I love the personal touch here. He seems to be asking Peter to look squarely at him, past the noise of others' attempts at categorization and to profess who Jesus is. Who he really is.
And when Simon gives the correct answer, noting the truest thing about Jesus, Jesus turns it around on Simon and tells him who HE is.
Who he really is.
Peter. A new name. “The rock”.
Not just a fishermen from a small town on the Galilean sea cost, but the future human foundation of the church.
I know there's a lot of theological luggage to unpack here. But on the surface, I like that Jesus gets down to the heart of the matter. The heart of the person. Sure he's known him a while, but Jesus had a way of cutting through the noise even with people he'd just met. (See John 4).
Maybe small talk surrounding where we live and our chosen occupation is the best we can do in circumstances when we meet people, those we will never likely see again.
Maybe.
But maybe - taking a page from the book of our creator - there's another option.