Who can call us father, or who can call us son?
If we have reguarded ourselves abandoned by whatever thing (a person, a lover, a parent, a false prophet, ourselves) then we have lost touch with the great family, ourselves, all of us together, on this great place called planet Earth.
Who is your neighbor? He is your brother.
Who is that stranger? She is your mother.
The man downstairs hammering on the wall,
the woman blow-drying her hair in the bathroom down the hall-
these people are your family.
Have you lost your mother to death?
Have you lost your father to disease, to war, alcohol, drugs, a car accident?
Nothing can replace them.
They have been made known copletely in death, to whatever supernatural landscape (who can say for sure?)
Until then, it is our hard task to welcome the widows, the children, the orphans, the fatherless into our family.
What little effort it takes- a friendly nod at the stranger on the street, giving change to the vagabond, saying hello or goodbye, openning doors, keeping our mouths shut.
In the small things, the day-to-day gestures, the normal business of the day, we do the great work of the kingdom, which is to welcome each unlikely individual into the fold, one person at a time.