Through ‘beloved community’ we embrace one another
Sometimes people can leave you inspired and ashamed at the same time. Inspired by the courage, optimism and endurance many exhibit when tragedy upends their lives.
Ashamed at your own whining over hiccups and minor inconveniences in the midst of blessings too numerous to count.
In Lawrence Township, Ohio, Tim and Cheryl Vinson and their kids already know they won’t be home for Christmas. Their house was destroyed by a fire a week before Thanksgiving.
In addition to losing most of their personal belongings, the family of four also lost two pets.
Yet they express gratitude, saying it easily could have been worse.
Friends, neighbors, the local school district and even strangers scrambled to ensure they had a place to stay and such basic necessities as shoes and clothing. A wonder
It is precisely what the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. meant with the phrase “the beloved community.”
In all of the noise and hoopla that has become our national conversation, it can be easy to get distracted from such expressions of grace.
And there are many of them.
The willingness of people to share their resources, to drop what they’re doing to help another in need — even complete strangers — never fails to amaze. Like flickers of light pushing back against the fearsome dark, and such selflessness serves to assure us that not all is lost, that we humans are better than we think.
On Nov. 7, neighbors risked their lives to try to save 9-year-old Aniyah Johnson of Massillon, Ohio, who died after her family’s house caught fire. There can be no greater sorrow, no deeper despair than the death of a child. We can only hope that knowing they did all they could will help to assuage their sorrow and regret.
The unshakable faith people express in the midst of a disaster can be a wonder to behold. It’s one of the few things that can be a source of encouragement, even as it exposes the shallowness of our own roots.
Standing in the smoldering rubble of her former home, Cheryl Vinson assured (Massillon) Independent reporter Samantha Ickes that, “Things will get better. I have faith in God.”
When Linda Lockwood’s family of six lost their Canton, Ohio, home Nov. 14, she, too, was thankful she was able to escape unharmed.
For weeks now, Americans have donated hundreds of millions of dollars to help those devastated by hurricanes in Texas, Florida, Puerto Rico and the U.S. Virgin Islands.
Everyone gets a turn
It’s a shame catastrophic loss must occur to remind us we’re connected.
These days, it can be hard to hold onto the fact our commonalities far outnumber our differences. The clattering noise of ego and rancor serve only to exacerbate those places where we disagree.
Love requires intent. In contrast, far less effort, far less thought is needed to demonize and diminish others by way of artificial barriers we’ve created expressly for that purpose. When people don’t meet the social, ethnic, economic or religious bars we set, it makes it easier to dismiss them, and in doing so, we grant ourselves permission to be ambivalent.
After all, humankind is teeming with need. The level of suffering is endless and exhausting. The problem is, we too often use that as an excuse not to help anyone.
But when it comes to tragedy, loss and setbacks, everyone gets a turn. When our lives are stricken, we want the world to stop in its tracks.
What’s happened to these families, what happens to people every day, reminds us that we are our brother’s keeper. It also should remind us how vulnerable we are to a single turn of fate. Whenever we help another person, it grants us access to the secret of life: Giving of ourselves is life’s blood of happiness.