As I walked Dusty back home this morning, I watched the
swallows practicing their acrobatics. Every year as autumn approaches, they
begin to train for their long migration. We watch as they duck and dive, lining
up on the electric and telephone wires, then switching places; one darting off,
sometimes initiating a flurry of feathered friends following, sometimes all the
rest remaining on the wire until the one repositions himself.
Tonight, on yet another short walk, it is nearly dusk and
one of the big birds of prey, a hawk or buzzard, glided out of the canopy of
trees and with apparently little effort, flapped its wings a couple of times
and climbed high into the sky, where it caught the thermals or breezes of some
kind and slid back down towards earth.
Both birds with feathers and wings. Both fly high, one with
joyful zest and speed and much flapping and manoeuvring, part of a
choreographic display preparing for opening night; the other alone, solitary,
moving with dignity and very little flapping, not ready to migrate but
preparing to endure the winter to come.
God made them both. Just as he made all kinds of people.
None is better than another. Just different.
Some of us are socialites who enjoy the give and take of a
group, the to and fro of the dance of life. Some of us are loners, preferring
to soar or dive, solo, always solo. Some of us are black. Some of us are white.
Some of us eat potatoes. Some of us eat rice.
The joy of diversity should be celebrated. How mundane it
would be were we all the same. What a shame it is, then, when prejudice and
judgment divide us into opposing camps.
Do everything you can, the Bible advises, to maintain the
unity of the Spirit. Everything you can.
No comments:
Post a Comment