Is the Life of an American More Important than the Life of a Kenyan? A Filipino? A Syrian?

No.

That’s the answer.  No. It doesn’t need any more explanation.

But, I’ll explain.

The media has a huge problem. When something happens to people in first world countries, like America, France, Canada, for example, the world stops.

There are candlelit vigils.

There are moments of silence.

There are tears of strangers.

When a bunch of Palestinian kids are being murdered in their houses no one cars.

That’s just another day in the Middle East!

Maybe it is to you, but it’s not that way to me.

When something happens to Americans, it breaks my heart.  When something happens to Kenyans, it breaks my heart.

Neither one more or less.

Even, I’m American, and it’s not any more or less.

Why? Because we are all brothers under the same God.

And, these stupid land masses that we live on and have a passport from are not at all related to our brotherhood in God’s creation. Our country’s borders are ALL manmade. Hell, they’re all scribbles, people!

I don’t think that when we get to Heaven, God is going to line us up by what passport we hold. If He does, I will have some questions.

I don’t think that the gates to Heaven for Chinese will be different than the gates for Americans.

In fact, I know that’s not how it’s going to happen because my religion says we get to enter in the gate that best describes the good deeds we have done on earth.

One is for those who gave in charity, one is for those who have sincere faith in God, one for those who control their anger and forgive others, one for those who constantly remembered God, etc…  You don’t level up because of your passport.  You level up because you were faithful during your life.

I love America.  I love Saudi Arabia. I love Pakistan. I love China. I love Nigeria. I love Chile. I love Antarctica. But, I don’t love the countries themselves.  I love the people.  I don’t love the bad things they do, but in the perfect state that God made them, I love them.

 

So when something bad happens anywhere, I hurt. When something bad happens close to me, I don’t hurt more.  It’s not location-based.  

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The people who lost their lives in the recent attacks on France, my heart breaks for them.  The people who lost their lives in the recent attacks on Lebanon, my heart breaks for them.  The people who lost their lives in the hurricane in Mexico, my heart breaks for them.  It breaks for Syria. For Kenya. For Palestine. For past and present tragedies. For all of those who suffer. For all of those who have suffered. For all of those who have yet to suffer. Because, someday, when we all get to Heaven, those people are going to be the ones we envy.

Their suffering in this fleeting world is going to lead them to Bliss in Eternity.

They won’t be given higher positions, or more pay, or nicer houses, or safer schools, or more Twitter followers based on what country God happened to put them in.  In that Place, there is love without separation, there is no suffering, and you can bet that the color of our passports or which flag is waving outside our doors or what language we speak will have no meaning. Where we checked in on Foursquare won’t be relevant.

The media won’t care less about one person than another. We will be judged for our character, not our color. We will all be exquisite – from the homeless starving woman to the richest person on earth.

God, please grant me a place there! In the meantime, help us all to realize none of our lives are more important than anyone else’s.  And, the loss of any one of these beautiful souls You put here is not any more important than losing another of them.

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