Our culture feels like a diet of sugary cereal, and so it’s with an odd relief that I, in recent weeks, have stumbled upon life-affirming moments that remind me that we haven’t all forgotten that community means more than contiguity. The first was a gathering at a friend’s church, a celebration in advance of their Lenten observation. Their church has a large immigrant population, and so there was Middle Eastern music, and food, and dancing. Some of them got up and sang songs from the places they’ve left behind. Old and young mingled with ease, and you could see the children absorbing the traditions of their families.
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