God had my attention.
It was as if part of the message, itself, was Look here. I’d like to make this perfectly clear, and so He had it delivered by a handsome young preacher, a Princeton scholar who spoke with ease and an earnestness that was as disarming as it was charming. All 1100 of us in that Presbyterian Musician’s Conference congregation leaned forward as his Puerto Rican heritage story crescendoed.
I waited, and watched.
Diversity is not a problem we need to solve, he said.
BOOM there it was.
And this, which will be with me for my lifetime.
God’s truth is we are burdened with each other’s stories.
We prayed the Lord’s Prayer in seven different languages simultaneously, as a congregation, as a people connected, in love.
When they heard this sound, a crowd came together in bewilderment, because each one heard their own language being spoken.
Amen, I thought.
Amen, he said.
Amen, Amen, Amen, we sang.