I have come to appreciate the difference between the external and within. When I look across individuals, sculptures, and manmade objects, I find a stark difference between the rhetoric, patina, externals and what is inside. In a variation of the old street cliché, all show and no go, I am reminded that it is only in the internals that the value is realized.
A psalmist critically evaluated godless statues with stinging words, “chiseled mouths that can’t talk, painted eyes that can’t see.” (Psalm 135.16). I hear him with sadness. The harsh reality is that followers of compassion and love who remain silent in the face of pain, who do not act when they see another human suffer, are a living examples of the psalmist’s motionless god-statue.
As I walked around Cluster T of Jumeriah Lake Towers, there were three young boys playing. Something did not seem right from a distance. As I got closer, I could hear the plea of one boy being picked on by a another. He was right on the edge. By the time I was within reach, his words had become a cry of fear, anger, and heart felt pain. His attacker had not stopped. The verbal abuse was flowing, growing with every phrased verbally hurled like a well-formed spit ball.
I stopped, not knowing what to do or say. These were not my children. I had not seen enough to have context. It was hard to imagine how a gray-haired white man could step into the situation which cross the gulf of cultural, language, and age.
Fortunately, a mother stepped out from behind a nearby palm and into the mix with boys. Her voice took immediate command of the situation. Freed from a call to action, I quietly walked on without a word.
The scene has aged a few days in my mind, but I wonder. What will it take for the God of compassion, kindness, and love to come alive in my life?
My answer is my commitment; in each moment, I will act on the opportunity to be real.
