Uniformity and diversity

Wednesday, May 15, 2024

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Uniformity and diversity

Holy Father, keep them in your name, the name that you have given me, so that they may be one just as we are one.

Driving in Austin traffic I expect, or at least hope for, uniformity of cars and drivers. We all want to be able to predict the actions of vehicles in front and back of us. We are all watching, most of us at least, most of the time, for something unusual, a sudden breakdown or loss of concentration which we all try to avoid, hopefully in just enough time to avoid a crash.

When the collision happens in spite of all that defensive driving, I’m always surprised by the diversity of drivers. Their personalities quickly come to the fore, as does mine. Once we’re outside of the psychological safety of our cars, on the highway’s shoulder, everyone is different. And sometimes the experience is so friendly and positive that it’s hard to remember that our cars were “adversaries.” Because we ourselves certainly are not.

I do not ask that you take them out of the world, but that you keep them from the Evil One. They do not belong to the world any more than I belong to the world. Consecrate them in the truth.

When I’m in church sometimes I hope for people to not surprise me, so we can all live out our gentle Christian Sunday. But that’s only until I’m surprised by something unexpected – different clothes and hat, words that are far more friendly and intimate than I expect, a good question that comes out of the blue (for example, “What brought you joy this week? What troubled you this week?”).

Looking into the eyes of my friends and those less familiar, I realize all I care about is their real, personal selves, their diversity. Race, gender, and age are relevant markers, but mostly diversity is defined by what I show others of my inside self, and what they show me.

Which is a less expected way to see the miracle of Pentecost, and Steve Garnaas-Holmes nails that idea in his poem:

PENTECOST

All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit

             and began to speak in other languages,

             as the Spirit gave them ability.

                            —Acts 2.4

 Pentecost was not, as some say, “the undoing of Babel”—

now we all speak the same language!

No, it was the opposite: the blessing of Babel.

We learn one another’s languages.

We embrace diversity, and learn to listen to each other,

to see from another’s perspective,

to give voice to a life other than our own,

to make central a language that’s not our own,

to communicate grace that’s not on our own terms.

We acknowledge the differences in our lives,

honor one another’s various home places and cultures,

cross over the boundaries of comfort and familiarity.

 

On that Pentecost day I don’t imagine they were eloquent.

They spoke in halting Phrygian, mangled Mesopotamian.

It probably took some back-and-forth, some double-checking.

It required not just proclaiming but listening, relating,

and patience on the part of the hearers,

and courage and humility on the part of the speakers—

willingness to be beginners, to risk, to appear foolish,

to forgo the safety of being in the dominant group.

 

Pray for such humility and courage, to risk for the sake of love,

to be foolish for the sake of relating,

to let other people’s reality be real.

 

In such loving, the Holy Spirit will speak, loud and clear.

 (Acts 20, Psalm 68, John 17)

(posted at www.davesandel.net)

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