Snowflakes...

"The rule for all of us is perfectly simple. Do not waste time bothering whether you 'love' your neighbor; act as if you did. As soon as we do this we find one of the great secrets. When you are behaving as if you loved someone, you will presently come to love him." -C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

"And if I have all prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing." -1 Corinthians 13:2

Snowflakes are remarkable things. Each made of the same ingredients as its neighbor, they fall from the sky bringing delight to children and enchantment to all. No one snowflake is exactly like another. As water crystallizes in the freezing atmosphere, it forms in a beautiful and intricate dance, and then descends to offer us a little glimpse of comfort and wonder.

We don't stop to notice the differences when a flake lands on our tongue. Nor do we wonder why each is different as we roll the raw material of the winter's first snowman. And yet, as each snowflake descends to the ground, it tells its own unique story, even if it's just another crystallized piece of H20. And that story is always better when it's shared by millions and billions of other flakes.

People are similar, I think. We breathe the same air and pump the same blood. We're made of the same essential ingredients, and yet, we're immeasurably unique. None is quite like the other. Sure, we are similar. But no two of us are the exactly the same. We're a lot like snowflakes.

Last night, we lost 50 snowflakes. We lost 50 brothers and sisters. We lost 50 people who were just like us, and yet whose lives were totally unique from ours.

We lost 50 stories that now are left unfinished.

There is something audacious in the claim that we are all made in the image of God. Because we're all so different. How can we all be made in the image of the same God and yet all be so different?

Every day, in new ways, I'm learning how incredibly beautiful this claim is. And as it becomes more beautiful, it becomes all the more audacious, because if I am made in the image of God, and you are made in the image of God, that means that when I look at you I am seeing something of myself reflecting back. And when I look at you, I am seeing something of God looking at me. And there is something in my fiber that is tied to you, and you to me, and all of us to one another.

This is all the more audacious because it means there are no people who are less human than I. It is all the more audacious because it means there is nothing in me that makes me any more attached to God's essence than another. It is all the more audacious because it means that if I can't find the fingerprints of God in my neighbor, I haven't tried hard enough.

A few months ago, I went to a political event for a presidential candidate with whom I disagree on almost every issue. He made my blood boil and broke my heart at the same time. So I went to this event, but with one condition: I could not leave until I was capable of my brother in him. I would not leave until I was capable of loving him.

I am so deeply sorry, but I have to confess that I left and had not been able to meet my one goal. I was heartbroken by his words and the words of the crowd. My heart was heavy and as I walked through downtown back to my car, tears ran down my cheeks.

I learned the limits of the grace I was willing to offer. And it left me crying.

In light of yesterday's events, I'm reminded that I have to keep trying. Because, you see, if we can't see the image of God in our neighbors, then we have to keep looking. I have to keep looking.

We are called to love the people Jesus loved. If you're curious who Jesus loves, draw a circle as big as you possibly can on a map. Then make a promise to love all the people in that circle. I promise you'll never come across someone who doesn't fit the criteria.

50 people are dead because someone couldn't see the value of life in himself or his victims. 50 lives have been cut short, stories left without endings.

Hate comes in many different forms. Some feel justified. Others feel unprovoked. Some present aggressively. Others show up passively. Some spur online outrage. Others invoke universal praise. But hate universally comes from our failure to recognize the humanity in one another. It is brought upon by the failure to see the same image of God that is in us in our neighbors.

We are all different, in the same way that snowflakes are different: unique, and yet the same. Our smiles tell different stories and we laugh at different jokes. We talk with different accents and practice different traditions. We look different and have different customs.

And yet there, in your face, I see a part of me reflecting back. It's the part that was intricately woven by the same God who knit us both together. Forgive me for the days when I think my reflection is more important than yours.

And because of this, when I hear the news of yesterday's shooting, a part of me feels dead. It's the part that was in the 50 lives that were taken.

We lost 50 snowflakes, and they won't ever be replaced. Oh Lord, hear our prayers.

forever unfinished...