*Brian Wilcox. 'Kennebec River ~ Winter Series no. 1'
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In a dream I walked with God through the deep places of creation; past walls that receded and gates that opened through hall after hall of silence, darkness and refreshment~the dwelling place of souls acquainted with light and warmth~until, around me, was an infinity into which we all flowed together and lived anew, like the rings made by raindrops falling upon wide expanses of calm dark waters.
*Dag Hammarskjold. Markings.
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I was serving as pastor, age 19, while in college as a ministry student. The church was near Lyons, Georgia USA. I went visiting to invite persons to worship with us. There was an old, unpainted house off in a field, just down the road from the sanctuary. I drove up, knocked on the door, not knowing who lived there. When the door was opened by a black person, I introduced myself and was invited in. I was welcomed to sit down surrounded by the family. I was informed the family had talked of visiting our sanctuary, seeing they had such a small group at their church. We shared together gladly, I invited them to share worship with us, and left feeling blessed and hoping they would come to the church. Sadly, the following Sunday evening, I was walking to enter the sanctuary and was met with a kindly spoken warning. One of the church leaders said, "Just wanted you to know, persons are talking about you visiting that black family." I got the message. These white folk did not want persons of color in their church. Having been raised in a highly segregated region, I was still shocked, for this was, after all, a church. Had they not read about that man they spoke of so highly, that one called Jesus, and Christ, who welcomed all as equals and all worthy of being loved, as he said his Heavenly Parent loved everyone?
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We were sitting, talking seriously about family matters and spirituality. She said "We is." I noticed. Thinking she had used bad grammar, she started to change what she said. I stopped her. I began laughing. I told her she had spoken a wonderful truth "We is." She, seeing what I meant, began laughing with me. We talked about how we each are a particularization of "God," "God" manifesting in the diversity we are, or in her words not "We are" but "We is." And there we were, I noticed, she called black and I called white, "We is" sharing together.
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One of my fondest memories from childhood was when walking into our dining room, seeing a young black youth sitting at our meal table. My oldest brother, Greg, invited him into our home, though we lived in a racially prejudicial southern USA community. I was so glad to see this boy, a youth I recognized from our recently integrated school. My mother spoke later to me of how proud she was of my brother. My brother understood "We is." And one of the reasons I left my native religious sect was that it seemed not to begin to appreciate the truth of "We is." It seemed to believe in a God with white skin. Greg died at age 34 and was one of the kindest persons I have known. I remain so proud of his welcoming heart, and I relish the memory of that youth looking up at me from the table. Interesting, too, in my native religion, the table was a sign of inclusion. And our table, thankfully, proved to be a place that day where the color of the skin did not divide us but united us in the diversity that a colorless Love celebrates.
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*The theme of "Lotus of the Heart" is 'Living in Love beyond Beliefs.' This work is presented by Brian K. Wilcox, of Maine, USA. You can order Brian's book, An Ache for Union: Poems on Oneness with God through Love, through major online booksellers.
