A Lamp in the Darkness
First things first – Dr. M (or should I just call him Linthead now?) had a wonderful post yesterday explaining why he shouldn’t have a blog. It’s a really good way to get to know him better, and to give you insight into why I say I’m the fluff to his depth. He’s a really cool person, if I do say so myself (having had very little influence into how he turned out, I take full credit). So go read it. Now. And then come back to read my not quite as fluffy as usual post.
Our diocese has a monthly publication with stories about the goings on in southern Ohio. This past month one of the members of my former church (hey Nancy!) had an article about an immigration reform rally that she attended. I know that immigration is a hot button for a lot of people, but this story*, told at the rally, sums up my feelings on the subject pretty well:
A rabbi put this question to his students: "How can we determine the hour of dawn. When the night ends and the day begins?”
"When from a distance you can distinguish between a dog and a sheep," suggested one. "When you can distinguish between a fig tree and a grapevine,” offered another.
"No," the rabbi said, "When you look into the face of a human being and have enough light to recognize that person as your brother or sister. Up until then it is night, and darkness is still with us."
If we aren’t able to recognize the person in front of us as a brother or sister, then we dwell in darkness. And I’m not just talking about the way we look at immigrants either. It feels like everyone around me is in an armed camp – me & mine versus you and yours. It’s ours, people. Really – we’re all on this earth together. Sitting in the dark, or holding out a lamp to the incoming stranger.
*Not having the Interchange with me when I wrote this post I looked the story up online. There are a lot of different versions, so I just picked one to use. However, I have since found the Interchange online. You can read the artcle on page 17 here.