Something to see

He [Jesus] took a little child and had him stand among them. Taking him in his arms, he said to them, “Whoever welcomes one of these little children in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me does not welcome me but the one who sent me. (Mark 9:36-37)

I’ve seen it six or seven times now, a photo inside a café, every table filled with diners. It appears in my Facebook feed always with the same text, telling me the diners are the people of Springfield, Ohio, flooding a Haitian restaurant in protest of the ugliness being hurled at their immigrant neighbors.

I hope the photo is real. I hope it is not AI generated or the photo of a café in California someone used to make a political statement, suggesting the picture is from Springfield when it is not. I, for one, would love to have final verification of its authenticity.

Here’s why. Long ago, reporting from a few of the world’s most brutal, deadly places, I learned something. Whenever you see hatred and death, brutality and the most callous disregard for human life you can imagine—no, beyond anything you can imagine, whenever that happens, where ever you see it, don’t stop looking. Don’t stop listening.

Pay attention because, exactly there, in the midst of hell on earth, sooner or later you will see the most beautiful, gracious, loving, merciful expressions of the human heart, sacrifices that will take your breath away.

You will see God, living in the spirit of human souls in ways that will bring tears of gratitude and longing to your eyes.

Longing? Yes, for those tears flow from the deepest well of the human soul, reaching out for a world not fully born, the kingdom of God, the reign of love. And you weep because you see God’s kingdom breaking forth with unspeakable beauty amid the world’s great ugliness, as human souls take the wounded into their embrace and do whatever they can.

It is through these eyes, tutored, I believe, by God’s own Spirit, and through these ears that, however faintly, have begun to hear, that I take in that photo, reading the meme and savoring the scene on my Facebook page.

I hear the clink of knives and forks, smell the aroma of coffee and eggs sizzling on clean white plates. I see the waitstaff hurrying to fill orders and clear tables. And amid the murmur voices and morning laughter, I feel and know the Love who labors in every time and place to draw us beyond ourselves to embrace the wounds of the world.

It’s really something to see, and once you catch a glimpse of it you want to see and feel it everywhere, which is why I am beyond thankful for those diners in Springfield, hoping that photo is as real as me sitting in this gray chair. For it is a scene of the coming kingdom if ever there was one, all of us gathered in one great love.

When I was a young man I was like Jesus’ disciples, dreaming great things for myself, most of which was compensation for feeling small, weak and insignificant, as if some accomplishment would prove to others (and myself) that they were wrong about me.

If you’re really blessed, sooner or later, the realities of living strips away self-aggrandizing illusions like this … so you can finally see the greatest thing you can ever do is to be like those diners in Springfield. Embrace what is right in front of you with as much love as you’ve got.

And pray, ‘thy kingdom come.’

It will, and you just may see it.

David L. Miller