A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another.” John 13:34-35
Group of people sitting at festive table and eating
In one of those strange twists of fate, I found myself at a dinner celebrating the high school graduation of lovely young woman whom I barely know, but to whom I felt sufficient obligation that I went, even though it was the last place on earth I wanted to be. Ok, that’s an exaggeration… I’d hate mosquito-infested jungles more, or swimming with piranhas in the Amazon River, or, really, walking in the midst of shifting desert sands. Come to think of it, there are of a lot of places I’d rather not be more than I’d rather not have been at the graduation dinner, but nobody asked me to go to those places, as opposed to dinner for this high school graduate. So, with preachery card in hand and a gift card enclosed, the amount of which I belabored over for what turned out to be an unnecessary length of time (nobody wants to be chinchy… but really…!), I dragged myself to dinner.
The first person I encountered was a woman who began telling me all about her various surgeries, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it would stop when we got around to eating. Ah, well, no, it would not. It seems she’d had several significant surgeries about which she thought I ought to know. A man sat down at the table with us, and I, of course, was thinking, “maybe he has something else to discuss.” He did. His favorite topic was his wife, the woman of multiple, gruesome surgeries fame.
As I sat there surrounded by people I did not know well, I was struck by how well they knew each other and how well they loved one another. They were all less educated, less sophisticated, less wealthy (which is hilarious if you know me), and less worldly than everyone else I know, but they loved one another. I went home humbled and awed and maybe, just maybe, a tad bit jealous.
In one of those strange twists of fate, I found myself at a dinner celebrating the high school graduation of lovely young woman whom I barely know, but to whom I felt sufficient obligation that I went, even though it was the last place on earth I wanted to be. Ok, that’s an exaggeration… I’d hate mosquito-infested jungles more, or swimming with piranhas in the Amazon River, or, really, walking in the midst of shifting desert sands. Come to think of it, there are of a lot of places I’d rather not be more than I’d rather not have been at the graduation dinner, but nobody asked me to go to those places, as opposed to dinner for this high school graduate. So, with preachery card in hand and a gift card enclosed, the amount of which I belabored over for what turned out to be an unnecessary length of time (nobody wants to be chinchy… but really…!), I dragged myself to dinner.
The first person I encountered was a woman who began telling me all about her various surgeries, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it would stop when we got around to eating. Ah, well, no, it would not. It seems she’d had several significant surgeries about which she thought I ought to know. A man sat down at the table with us, and I, of course, was thinking, “maybe he has something else to discuss.” He did. His favorite topic was his wife, the woman of multiple, gruesome surgeries fame.
As I sat there surrounded by people I did not know well, I was struck by how well they knew each other and how well they loved one another. They were all less educated, less sophisticated, less wealthy (which is hilarious if you know me), and less worldly than everyone else I know, but they loved one another. I went home humbled and awed and maybe, just maybe, a tad bit jealous.
Rev. Elizabeth Moreau
Comentarios