[While we’re on the subject of faith, an oldie from April 9, 2015] I’m fortunate.  You who read this post are probably fortunate as well.  We were born into a relatively stable environment. Decent parents. An education.  Job.  Family.   Friends.  A religious tradition.  We can travel. And if we get sick, there are doctors to take care of us. The twinkling spark that suddenly became YOU arrived just in the right place.  At the right time.  It was a lottery.  Of birth. 

What if that spark had come to life a hundred years ago. A thousand. For many in those times, they just endured.  Day by arduous day.  Struggling with the things we take for granted today.  Yet even now there are those who are born into a life of abysmal poverty, suffocating hunger and crippling disease.  Raised in countries ravaged by violence, hatred and injustice.  Where every single day may be a strenuous, painful and frightening saga.   Do you ever think — that could’ve been me.  Do we have a duty to help resolve issues like poverty? World hunger?  

And what about faith traditions that deny salvation to those not exactly like them.  Can a little boy help if he is born in Totonicapan, Guatemala?  Or to a Hindu family in Rajahmundry, India?  Can we help that we are born Lutheran? Episcopal? Catholic, Jewish?  Buddhist?  Moroccan? Pakistani? Chinese? And if the little girl in Zimbabwe never hears the message of [pick your faith tradition] what does that mean for her eternity?  Her hope of salvation? Is it a closed door?   I wonder how the Archangel Gabriel might answer that question (please see post of 1/30/12).