Living in Dignity

There's a word we don’t hear in our lessons today. We hear so much about love it almost just rolls past us. But one word I think we should engage is Dignity. It never appears in our lessons but I think is very much a part of what God’s law and Jesus’ teaching are about-the worth of each person God created matters to God. Dignity is a word sorely needed in our world on so many levels. Not the least of which is the notion that “Stand your ground” and “turn the other cheek” are incompatible.

Jesus is preaching and talking about loving neighbors and the crowd knows it. It’s from Leviticus-Love your neighbor as yourself. But here’s the thing- the word that is not in Leviticus-enemy. There’s no hating enemy in Leviticus. It might seem like Jesus is a little sloppy about remembering Leviticus. But I think he preaches to what he knows people have decided to believe. “Not my neighbor” means “OK to hate.”

He preaches dignity to the crowd for themselves, for those Galileans who are oppressed by the Roman rule, and for all their others. We all have “others.” The ones who are not neighbors to love.

I’m just back from the Youth Sleepover, where kids constantly question the scope of how much is really expected, questions about what each newly encountered situation demands: “ But Pastor…!” you REALLY mean I have to do THIS?” No wonder those 10 commandments became over 600 rules in Leviticus. We all ask the questions.

Today Jesus sums up God’s “yes” to our “No” about the poor, the stranger, the deaf, blind, rich, extended family, and more. All the people we encounter not those we want to. And if you think about your day and who you encounter- it’s often largely not family. If you stop and think many of us encounter and spend more time with the doctor, the store clerk, the bus driver, the food server, coworkers.  What does it mean to love and honor them? With dignity? Maybe it starts with seeing them as people in the picture as opposed subjects of McWages,  immigration limits, healthcare and more.

A little deeper, think about all the people you just cannot abide or maybe even have hurt you. Them too? One of our kids on the overnight is struggling with controlling anger. She already has a label-she has “anger management” issues. Like that ends the possibilities. She's been taught it's the response to everything that is challenging. When she gets mad she thinks nothing of “popping” the offender. But I have "anger management issues." She insists that “ I choose my attitude based upon how you treat me.” Sounds kind of like “eye for an eye.” And she can hold her anger and not let go. As I work with her to find better avenues, I shared with her the saying “holding a grudge is like letting someone live rent free in your head.” Why would any of us give that much of us to our "enemy"?

It sounds easy to talk the talk, but the real walk is so much harder. Because frankly til Jesus is done, there are no enemies. And love isn’t just about being nice, its about God’s framework as our lens. Our default says it’s not possible. Or at the least that some great models accomplish it but it’s not reality. It is easy to overlook God at the center of relationships-I am the Lord and YOUR God.

Our walking in God’s ways and also turning away from things takes God. Relationships and wisdom are not static. Not just memorized it in Sunday school. Not a simple set of brightline moments. We tend to collapse time and history in ways that take away the reality of all of the in between good and bad. Owning the journey may be one way to then recognize the importance of walking close with God in guidance. Even if it’s only in looking back that we see where we’ve been with God. 

The truth is that if we really try, being God’s people, God’s reflection is heavy duty lifting. Yet, the early Christian church’s ability to embrace this and to relieve the misery and hardship of urban life for the majority poor in cities was the major factor in growth of Christianity. Being a persistent, pervasive and reflection of Christ so that the community is seen as God's.

Even as we might cringe to hear that God will provide for the good and evil. Comprehensive, indiscriminate and undeserved kindness is God. Even in Jesus’ time Josephus noted - “it is surely madness to expect God to show the same treatment to the just and the unjust!” The struggle is timeless. And it sounds so good but it’s so hard.

This is where I think our translation of the gospel gets it wrong. We hear “be perfect.” And frankly that be perfect part is just not for real. That’s kind of a crappy translation. Looking back to Leviticus, we hear- be holy as I the Lord your God am holy. And I think it’s fair to say that related to being holy is being whole. The greater righteousness which embodies God’s empire imitates God in wholeness.

To be whole or holy takes active trust and obedience- walking with. It takes what only God can give- faith and the Spirit

Constant and comprehensive love even in the face of opposition is what we see of God across Scripture and then to the cross. And we are then empowered to be whole, doing love toward all, including those we call enemies.

To even begin takes constant discerning of what the kingdom looks like in each situation. But one writer notes, “no matter who we are the Jesus truth is this: Because I am made in the image of God, I am deserving of dignity and respect. Often Sunday School repetition has lessened the shocking impact of Jesus’ words for us today, nothing can lessen even for us, how very hard it is for us to love an enemy: how incredibly difficult it is to live this truth. But if we are to live as people of dignity, it is a skill we have to learn.”

And here is where there is another challenge. We often lift up great models of the faith- Martin Luther King, Jr., Desmond Tutu, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, and others. Like they are icons or super Christians. And they are almost inaccessible. Often model people of the faith are hard for us to embrace as connected to us.

So I want to share in closing two stories about everyday people in the struggle to live God’s dignity.

On the sleepover, our 12 kids got there to join about 100 kids total. We were sitting church for the opening and one of our girls turned to me and said, “Pastor, we are surrounded by a sea of whiteness. How’s this gonna be for us?” The fear of the enemy dynamic was alive for her. How will the Riveras and Figueroas, and Rosarios fit in the picture? As it turned out our 11 girls were put in a room with three girls from Bernville, a town of a few hundred that doesn’t experience our diversity. I am happy to say that in the midst of concern, the gospel was proclaimed in how everyone came together. Even if it centered around Justin Bieber as much as Jesus. That’s a story that has to continue to be lived to become working reality.

Here’s the second story, of love and dignity when it has not been reality. Philip Yancy’s book Rumours of Another World tells of South Africa, at a Truth and Reconciliation hearing after the end of apartheid. Where people tried to reconcile the injustices.

“A policeman recounted how he and other officers, had shot at point blank range an 18 year old boy, just because he was black and then burned the body to destroy the evidence. Eight years later, the men returned to the boy’s home and forced his mother to watch as they bound her husband, poured gas over him and set him on fire. The room grew quieter and quieter. And then the judge turned to the woman and asked: ’what do you want from him?’

She replied, ‘I want him to go to the place my husband was burned, and gather up the dust there so that I can give him a decent burial.’

‘He took all my family away from me, but I still have a lot of love to give. Twice a month, I would like for him to come to my home and spend a day with me so I can be a mother to him. And I would like him to know that he is forgiven by God, and that I forgive him too. I would like to embrace him so he can know forgiveness is real.”

Imagine the power of that wholeness.

I cannot imagine the cost to her, what her neighbors thought of her. But what dignity, healing and hope she brought through her love for her enemy, not just to herself, and not just for him, but for all who hear the story. Including us.

We don’t love our neighbors because they deserve it. We love them because God says they are our sisters, and our brothers, and because God, while we were yet sinners, loved us first.”

God calls us into this holiness, this wholeness, this love. It is hard work. But if we want to live with dignity, it is the only thing to do.

 

(For more on this I invite you to read "What Dignity" on the www.sacredise.com blog)

The Power to be God's Church

Last week we were on vacation in Finland, which turns out to be an incredibly diverse place. Sitting in the train station I had one of the closest experiences to Pentecost I could imagine, hearing Finnish, Norwegian, Russian, Spanish, Chinese, and French, and probably other languages I didn’t even detect, all swirling at the same time. But what I really needed was someone who could help me in my language. Last Sunday in worship I tried to sing along to hymns in Finnish, but I had no idea what I was saying. I only picked out a few words- Hosanna, Jesus, amen. My friend Elise translated some of the sermon, but it was bits and pieces. And I really got a sense of what it meant to understand in one’s own language when I could not. The only thing I knew for sure was the body of Christ given for you and the blood of Christ shed for you at communion.

After worship, we met the pastor and learned the church’s history. It is called the Old Church. But originally it had no name. When the Tzar of Russia ruled the area, he decided people would be Lutheran and ordered a cathedral be built on the highest point in town. That church now is the National Cathedral. But while it was being built, there still needed to be A church-so this other church was built. But for years on maps it was identified only as "temporary church." Because it was only going to be the church until they built the real one. Like somehow God wouldn’t empower that place and those people.

After the cathedral was built, this wooden framed church remained active. The cathedral became the New Church, this other became the Old Church. Perhaps to the surprise of some. The painting behind its altar depicts Jesus blessing children. It was originally intended for the New Church but the tzar thought it too juvenile. Jesus creating family seemed not weighty enough. So it was placed at the temporary church. It wasn’t OK for the real church, but it was fine here. Like God wouldn’t use that art to show faith.

Despite not being the “real” church, now several hundred years later, both the Old Church, and the New Church are still there, as part of 5 churches in the Helsinki parish. Committed to a mission to make God’s love known and extend God’s family. A statement not so much about which people or which church, but a lot about the power of the Spirit!

And The Lutheran Church of Finland today works hard to produce resources not only in Finnish, but in the languages of the many others who have come to live there in a book called “To be a Christian.” Spanish, French, German, Russian, Chinese and more-languages through which to communicate God in ways others understand. Because this is God’s mission. It’s impressive.

But at the same time, the pastor of the Old Church explained that after worship they now have "Sharing time." It’s new. They gather chairs in a circle and invite people to stay for conversation and to learn each other's names. Because among the 100 or so people who worship on Sunday mornings, they don’t know each other well. They tolerate the children, and the old woman with dementia with food in her hair, and the young professionals, but they don’t connect. It seems that Finns are not big on asking each other first names. And since the city has changed so much, the old ways don’t work so well. The Old Church cannot be the Same Old Church.

When people keep to themselves, it’s hard to form community or talk about what it means to be Christians. The Pastor’s idea was seen as really shaking things up. No one apparently thought he was drunk when he announced it, but I was told that he was not raised Lutheran. It turns out before he was a Lutheran pastor he was … Pentecostal.

These experiences point up the dynamic we find ourselves in at times- we’re not sure what to consider temporary or permanent, old or new. In our wrestling with this, we don’t always really connect with each other. It’s like we speak different languages. We can look right past each other and past now, believing at times we know how God will act. Or that some other time past or future is what really matters.

In the end, those considerations turn out to say a lot about us and not really much about the grace and love of Jesus Christ or the power of the Holy Spirit we celebrate this day.

We live knowing Jesus has risen and will come again. But we live now. And in this time, we are really all temporary churches. But like the disciples we’re promised  the Holy Spirit to help us live out the mission. To be God’s church now.

Because living in the movement of things are constantly changing is not the easiest thing. The Book of Acts calls what happened that Pentecost a miracle. The fact that everyone could understand, each in their own way was a miracle. In all the languages of our lives, we hope to be understood and loved but how we communicate can seem like we’re really all speaking different languages. It’s just as likely that we and those around us imagine being able to connect with God and to be understood, and living in all this change takes nothing short of a miracle.

Into this place God sends the Spirit. And it starts with prayer.

What happened that day 3000 alone came to believe and the church began to spread, started with prayer. Those disciples gathered in the room were not all alike. Or inherently gifted. They came from different perspectives, not always seeing eye to eye, waiting for Jesus, but not quite sure what’s coming next or what to make of it. And really by nature not of one mind. But when they gathered and prayed, God entered.  The promised power of the Spirit came in prayer. And I suspect not as they expected. Coming to and working through all kinds of people, with wind blowing and fire flaming, and amidst them the voice of God stirring it up. The power of God transcended it all as those languages burst forth and people began to understand God’s language- love for all. That is still God’s mission.

We are a part of this chapter of God’s power and mission. Sometimes we talk about figuring out the church’s mission.

I think Pentecost reorients that conversation. God has a mission-go and make disciples of all nations, draw people into relationship. This is God’s mission. The gift of the Holy Spirit is not a mission. God doesn’t give the church a mission. God gives the mission a church. And gives us the power and a place in it. To be what God’s wants here and now. Even when it feels temporary, uncertain, unpredictable, or unfamiliar.

And God gives us a language of love, power and grace. And the connection to it all is prayer. Part of why I shared the stories of Finland is I saw connections to this place. In the history of God in this place, the Spirit blew and people were convinced that there would be a Sunday school. But then, not just a Sunday school chapel, but a real church. And the Spirit has continued to blow, using a rich variety of people and ways to help people grow in Christian faith and unity. Not to make us all be the same, or speak the same, but to draw us together in the Spirit as God’s family in all its diversity. And I continue to be amazed at the work of the Spirit in and through you!  We’re a small group through which God affects many. Young and old, new and long time, and everything in between. God’s Spirit is still moving, bringing power. My prayer is that God continues to stir us to be the Church that dares to call itself the Church of the Holy Spirit-reminded of our mission and the gift of community, proclaiming the Good news of God’s love, power and grace.

And I pray this will be our prayer -together.     

The World of the Possible

Thanks to all of you who here or other ways have reached out this past week. This has been a week of great upheaval and yet also a chance for me to marvel at all of the good in our world and to be amazed at the changes afoot in my part of it. For younger daughter, we have now had oodles of high tech tests, tests that would not have been possible when I was a child, growing up in the '60's and '70's. It seems for now the answer is an inhaler which we are now trying to master- when, how often. The sophistication of the technology can amaze me, but it cannot replace the importance of people taking the time to listen, really listen to what someone else is sharing. And for everyone who listened to me, and to her, I give thanks to God.
For my older daughter, we are continuing to look for what she needs, but thanks to technology, on the 'Net and through email, I have ideas and suggestions and a plan. In this world of possibility, I can get these things faster, and see more information in depth before I ever pick up a phone. But in the end, it will take people willing to listen to her, to us, to know who she is and what she needs.
This past week we also lost track of my parents after they left here for FLA for two days. Bad weather took out their phone, cable and internet service and jammed cell phone connections. All of the technology in the world was not helping us know if they were safe at home or in a ditch. Finally I remembered another way to reach them, through a friend who was not affected, who was willing to listen and help out.
All of the technology in the world cannot replace that human component. We need each other to feel human.

In this world of possibility is another exciting development that I hope takes us one step farther, not in technology, but in being human, and seeing each other
as equals. I watched with excitement and emotion, the speech Barack Obama delivered at the Democratic National Convention, a speech filled with possibility, and a speech focused upon our humanity and dignity. A speech about the possibility of a way that is not the "same old, same old." Delivered by a man who has lived possibility.
Who has refused to accept the notion that he is "less than."

As a child growing up in the '60's and '70's I remember a long drive across the state of North Carolina in 1969 to go the Outer Banks for vacation. In those days before the advent of high speed interstate, the road meandered through every little town. It was hot and dusty. It was mid-day, as I peered out the window hoping to see anything of interest that would break up the monotony of the drive. As we wended our way through a sleepy town, I saw two African American men walking down the sidewalk. A white man was approaching from the other direction. When he got within some apparently prescribed distance, the black men stopped, stepped off of the sidewalk into the street and looked away while the white man passed. Then they were free to get back onto the sidewalk and continue.

Being curious I asked my parents, one from Philadelphia and one from NC, why this happened. My mother said it was just the way it was. My father said, but it shouldn't have to be. And then the air was stiflingly silent for what seemed like a very long time. Just the crackle of the radio and the brittle tension of two expectations of the world.

This is one of the stories I remembered as I watched Obama. As I watched as a child who heard and believed that the world as it has been is not the world as it has to be. I do not know how this election will ultimately be decided, but to be in a world where the historically unlikely- a woman, an African American are lifted up, and where people have become energized to see beyond the small window, is thrilling. A world of the possible is in our midst, if we are willing to listen, really listen, to share, to help out and embrace the fullness of humanity as it can be, and as God desires it to be.

Overcoming Barriers

David at Here I Stand asks an interesting question that has caused me to do a little more reflecting on my summer. He states, "Begging the question of the week: What can you do to help overcome the barriers of faith, prejudice, racism, or classism in the communities in which you live?"

I have blogged before about bridging the faith divide with a Muslim family in crisis. Here are some other snippets of my summer, and honest statements about my responses, for better or worse.

Scenario 1: My largest frustration is in my perception of the lack of sensitivity or concern for those who are not Caucasian European lineage. At times it seems as though these people do not receive the same attention or care, because it is a bother. A gentleman from Mexico was brought into the ER, not on the trauma side. I got a call because family is here to see him and they need to be showed to “somewhere.” I ask the patient’s name and go to meet them. There are two gentlemen. One is the man’s brother and the other is a friend who speaks English. I place them in the large consult and go to find out who is the doctor and nurse. The man was found collapsed and non-responsive by the brother. I find the doctor and let him know family is here in case he needs information or wishes to see the brother who lives with the patient. He does not seem terribly interested even though everyone is trying to stabilize the patient and wondering what is happening and complaining about lack of information. I find out what I can share and go back to family. I also get contact information because no one has gotten it. The patient will be going to ICU at some point, and it is not looking good. “I have contact information for family– do you need it?” seems to be greeted with “if you want to.” No one seems concerned that he may not make it through the night and who might need to be called. I wonder if the mindset is that this is just another Hispanic, maybe it’s drugs- he has vomited all over the room. Turns out he had a brain lesion that herniated. I mention there is a friend who is translating, and am told that is a relief because it is one less thing she has to deal with. Stress of the moment or genuine sentiment? After the patient is as stabilized as can be, and I have again reminded the doctor that family is here, then he comes. I introduce him to the brother and translator. The doctor asks background, the thing he needed 40 minutes ago. He looks at the translator- he never looks at the brother. When the family finally comes to the room, the brother is told there is no reason to stay. Still no one seems concerned about them. I ask if they want to stay, but they seem OK with what has been communicated. Usually there is some question about whether family wants to stick around. I confirm that they will be called if there is a change. They go home.
The next day, I wonder if I should visit. I look to see where the patient now is and find out that there was a Code Blue and the family was called and told there was not much to do and the brother called off the efforts. We were not called, either then or later when family arrived. They faced all of this alone. Coincidentally, I ran into the family at the elevator- the translator recognized me and called out to me. He tells me the patient died. I ask him to express my sympathy to the family- they are tearful and express gratitude. They thank me for all I have done- for caring about them. The translator thanks me for pronouncing the man’s name correctly. Not trying to not trying to make it be an English name. This tells me the perception of the group about others they have encountered. They are on the way to Mexico for the funeral. I am glad to have been there- I just wish that the same degree of care and attention devoted to others by staff had been shown to this family.


What did I do? I brought it up to my supervisor who passed it on to the Vp for Diversity. This incident has passed, but the ongoing training has not.

2. People in the ER are poor and dirty. The staff are joking about it, but not in the presence of the people in question, but at the other end of a very large department. What did I do? I left the circle of conversation and went to stay with the family. I observed to see whether the buzz moved to where it could be heard until they were discharged. It did not. It was a rough night in the ER so I did not use that time to speak up, but to be aware and stand with the family. Maybe they would not talk that way in the chaplain's presence.

3. An increasing number of Hispanic families are at the hospital. There is plenty of charting to let medical staff know the family or patient are Spanish speaking only. But somehow this is not communicated to pastoral care staff in fulfilling visit requests. This makes visiting difficult for non Spanish speakers. But what I saw happening was that rather than trying to arrange for translation or see how far they could go in meeting needs, these visits were being pushed aside. What did I do? In one instance, I made a visit and was able to use my limited Spanish conversational skills and pen and paper to determine that the patient had a church and desired her pastor and made the contact. In another, I tried to visit and met with the daughter. She and I talked about how her mother was doing, set up a time for me to visit when the daughter could translate and ministered to the daughter regarding her stresses. I raised the insufficiency of the communication of language needs.

4. An Amish father came to see his son on the pediatric floor, but was clearly lost. I escorted him to the check-in desk. The clerk gave him an ID and told him he could enter. She did not offer to take him to the room which I knew was far away. So I stayed with him and took him there. On my way out, she thanked me, saying she wondered if he could find it, because " you know how they are" - a people who opt out of parts of culture? who leave school after 8th grade? I said that all I knew was he was an anxious father who was being asked to process a lot of information in a stressful time, and since as a parent it would be hard for me too, I guess I did know "how he was." She stated she hadn't really thought about it that way.

I wonder why others do not make a greater effort to understand. Even with questions about why people’s names are different, a lack of sensitivity to proper pronunciation disappoint me. Often I have not shared this disappointment. I have tried to answer questions when I have been asked in a neutral way, not self-righteously. But I wonder if we are called to love all God loves, if we can see that there is more than surface level. While many times, I can only focus on my own work in this area and encourage others, I wonder if there will be times to be more prophetic.

While I could spend a lot of time wondering why others " do not", I could more effectively focus upon what I can do now that God has sent me, which may be focused upon honoring others as created in God's image one-on-one, or may be working with others to highlight injustice and work to overcome it. And I think that my job is not to make others be like me, or to defend my God, but to meet people where they are- this has meant be sensitive in prayers, use of religious resources, obtaining Qur'an's, rosaries, hand held prayer labyrinths, and honoring traditions that seem diametrically opposed, including the right of a Jehovah's Witness to refuse a blood transfusion that would save his life.

In the end, I feel I often have more questions than answers, but I trust that God will guide me, and give thanks for all of those who strive to love our neighbors, whoever they may be.

Wipe away these tears

I have had several cases where someone on the team encounters a friend or coworker as patient or family, in trauma and on the floor where staff knows other staff. One that stuck out early on was a suicide attempt by the husband of a staffer. Everyone started forgetting their roles in ER trying to care for the staffer. It was a rough ride all around. This week it was my turn to have this experience directly. A trauma where the patient was in a motor vehicle accident with his granddaughter. I know them, not just casually, but well. We have socialized together for years. The kids have vacationed together. Here is the 80-ish grandfather, crying over the accident as he lays on the backboard wearing the immoblizer. He can’t reach his eyes. “Can you help me wipe these tears? …Tell me she’s OK.” I want to tell him what he needs to hear, not the truth. The granddaughter will be fine, but she has gone to Fast Care. He wants to see her now. I tell him it will be awhile before she can come in. How I felt when I saw the name- took my breath away- suddenly I am torn between rushing to the consult room, and the trauma bay, between the 13 yr old who is one of my daughter’s best friends and the patient who I have known and laughed with for years. Frustration of the son in law who was out for dinner with his wife in Philadelphia – Should grandpa be driving still? This is his only daughter by this marriage. Fears of the daughter who is a nurse. Family friends are here with her- he is a former CPE supervisor. Family wants to talk about knowing me as a lawyer. They did not know I am here. But also how glad they are that I am the one they meet here. I am glad to be the one here. Do I shortchange others in need? I see my own family in my mind- imagine their reactions- have to chase it away. When I hugged her- that was what was hard- don’t cry. I think of my own father and my concerns when he is driving my daughters. My own father could be the impatient driver here. The man without hearing aids in.. And the words of the grandfather- “how can I ever repay you?” I told him a smile would be enough. And it was.
Another family is dealing with a closed head injury patient. He and his girlfriend were in a car she was driving. They were arguing. He had consumed some alcohol. He impulsively decided to exit the moving car. Here we are. She is by his side with silent tears streaming down her cheeks. His father is here from Puerto Rico, praying to Virgin of Guadalupe. I ask him about the medallion around his neck and we talk about his piety and practices. I tell them about Mass times and offer a rosary. The girlfriend and he had planned to marry, once she finished confirmation and got her first marriage annulled. She tells me that she know this will be a long healing process for him, but also for all of them. I think the biggest part of “us” is for her. The guilt, wishing time could be turned back. We pray and I visit a couple days in a row through the crucial time. And she starts to talk about him more. One day he is restrained with leather restraints- he has broken through the others. She tells me he has always been strong, and they have had their problems. I wonder if this has been physical, but do not ask. “There are things I can only share with the priest who knows us, who knew us before.” I encourage this. I feel honored when on a day when he is cycling to awareness, she introduces me to him and tells him I have been here every day to see him and pray for him. Having had a good friend recover from a closed head injury and seeing her two year struggle, I try to encourage caring for self and not being afraid to rely on friends to help her through. She knows this will be hard- “ I have been the strong one- the one in control- I have held this together.” How hard to know that all her effort has not been enough. She cannot will or love it into being. And how hard will it be to walk this journey- how many problems will be swept under the rug that led to the jumping out.
A Muslim family with a tragic birthing experience. The mother/wife is critical. The extended family is here. Originally from Pakistan, some speak English and some do not. The husband stands by the bedside, wrapped in a blanket, bowing and praying and crying. We meet. I ask about his wife, and about his son. We talk about how he has held his son, and his name. I later learn that I am the first to ask the baby’s name. After awhile, he turns and asks me “will you please pray for me, for her?” I ask if he would like to pray together now. Tears streaming, he says he would. I am humbled and honored, given that I am a Christian woman, not dressed in the proper way, but all of this is transcended in this moment. I think carefully about the prayer, and offer it slowly, a prayer which I can pray but which respects their faith. God as creator, God as being gracious, holding us in the palm of his hand, God as healer, and bringer of peace, with pauses for silences. I realize he is also praying in his native tongue, in Urdu, in the silences. We are truly praying together. I ask if he would like a Qur’an to help him in this time. He says he would and I obtain one along with a prayer rug and set aside a place for him to pray.
"Can you wipe away these tears?" is a universal desire, hope and plea. What we all yearn for across time, space, definitions. To play some small role in this grand task is humbling and profound.