Care…Concern…Kindness

It has been said that you find out who your friends are…when you are down on your luck.

I have, often, heard people proclaim how good God is to them because they do not have a health issue that some of their friends or family has.  Does that mean that God is not as good to the sick members of your social circle?

Have you known individuals that have, by being in the right place at the right time, or inheritance or…pure good luck…are financially secure?  These, well-to-do, human beings,…tout their hard work and discipline and, sadly, their zealous christianity, as the rationale for their wealth.

What of the; hard working and pure hearted, salt-of-the-Earth workers that strive and slave…all of their life…and just make a living…or just get by…who read their Bible each day and pray and help their neighbor when they are sick or in need?

Perhaps we are guilty of fashioning a god that is carved in our image and after our likeness…and who fits neatly…on our end table?

I have a balsa wood carving of Buddah, that I purchased in Aruba, and I find his beatific face and large pot-belly…some what reminiscent of my visage.

What if our mission in life is to look at our fellow member of our human family…and see ourselves?

What if I look at your child who is ill…and I see my child?

What if I see the family who does not have enough to eat   and I feel pains of hunger?

What if I witness my; Jewish brothers and sisters being threatened, by hate groups, and I feel threatened…and I speak out in their defense?

I have noted that most of us hope that there is a life after this life…and we want to go to Heaven…but…do we believe that it is going to be sectioned, or zoned, for the; wealthy, and the white, and the privileged, and that the hate that governed our earthly existence…will be the governing factor in a perfect world?

Elitism is born in our ignorance and the ignominy  of a narcissistic existence.

When we feel better and superior and ‘ahead of the pack,’ we are compensating for a large black hole in our soul.

‘ There is nothing permanent in this troublesome world, not even our troubles.’    Charlie Chaplin

‘ A Psalm of Life’

‘Tell me not, in mournful numbers,

Life is but an empty dream!

For the soul is dead that slumbers,

And things are not what they seem.

 

Life is real!  Life is earnest!

And the grave is not the goal;

Dust thou art, to dust returnest,

Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,

Is our destined end or way;

But to act, that each to-morrow

Find us farther than to-day.

Art is long and time is fleeting,

And our hearts, though stout and brave,

Still, like muffled drums, are beating

Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world’s broad field of battle,

In the bivouac of Life,

Be not like dumb, driven cattle!

Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no Future, howe’er pleasant!

Let the dead Past bury its dead!

Act,-act in the living Present!

Heart within, and God overhead!

Lives of great men all remind us

We can make our lives sublime,

And, departing, leave behind us

Footprints on the sands of time;

Footprints, that perhaps another,

Sailing o’er life’s solemn main,

A forlorn and a shipwrecked brother,

Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,

With a heart for any fate;

Still achieving, still pursuing,

Learn to labor and to wait.

 

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

 

 

 

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