Love They Neighbor Revisited ~ The Great American Novel

Greetings Dear Reader,

As a writer I always hope that my writing reaches the world.  I do not think I have the “Great American Novel” in me.  I do know that I have many novels to write.  I know that I work daily at this.  What does that have to do with loving my neighbor?

It has to do with solitude, openness, and engagement.  One cannot write about life unless one lives it.  One cannot see the condition of people unless one engages with them.  Further, one cannot benefit others if one does not see things both as they are and as they can become. 

If we give an honest eye to history, humans always have the potential to do great things.  Too often, however, we do them at the cost of the well being of others.  If we allow our neighbors to starve in order to accomplish a great thing, how great can that thing be?  If we do not treat every human in any situation as more valuable than any endeavor then we stain that endeavor.

I am not saying that brave humans attempting bold things will not require their lives at times.  I am stating that failing to meet the needs of others for the purpose of discovery is a poor practice.  We live in a world where life saving drugs are held ransom for only those who can afford them.  We placate our conscience by having programs to help those “in need”. 

Why do we not love our neighbors enough to insist that people get the care they need no matter their station or situation?  Why do not Christ followers lead the charge in this?  We distract ourselves from real need and give little care for flood of it around us.  We can and must care for the needs of those around us even if it is a sacrifice for us.

Even as I stand on the edge I see ways that I can give to the needs of others.  I see ways that I can show love and kindness.  There is always something one can do if one chooses.

Great American Novel – Larry Norman

I was born and raised an orphan in a land that once was free

In a land that poured its love out on the moon;

And I grew up in the shadows of your silos filled with grain,

But you never helped to fill my empty spoon.

And when I was ten you murdered law with courtroom politics,

And you learned to make a lie sound just like truth;

But I know you better now and I don't fall for all your tricks,

And you've lost the one advantage of my youth.

You kill a black man at midnight just for talking to your daughter,

Then you make his wife your mistress and you leave her without water;

And the sheet you wear upon your face is the sheet your children sleep on,

At every meal you say a prayer; you don't believe, but still you keep on.

And your money says in God we trust,

But it's against the law to pray in school;

You say we beat the Russians to the moon,

And I say you starved your children to do it.

You are far across the ocean in a war is not your own,

And while you're winning theirs, you're gonna lose the one at home;

Do you really think the only way to bring about the peace,

Is to sacrifice your children and kill all your enemies?

The politicians all make speeches while the news men all take note,

And they exaggerate the issues as they shove them down our throats;

Is it really up to them whether this country sinks or floats?

Well I wonder who would lead us if none of us would vote.

Well my phone is tapped and my lips are chapped from whispering through the fence,

You know every move I make, or is that just coincidence?

Well you try to make my way of life a little less like jail,

If I promise to make tapes and slides and send them through the mail.

And your money says in God we trust,

But it's against the law to pray in school;

You say we beat the Russians to the moon,

And I say you starved your children to do it.

You say all men are equal, all men are brothers,

Then why are the rich more equal than others?

Don't ask me for the answer, I've only got one:

That a man leaves his darkness when he follows the Son

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Aramis Thorn

Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a home owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure store.”

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