How Heaven Holds Together

We now live in Jackson Heights, a neighborhood in the Borough of Queens, in New York City.

Our grandson just started Middle School a few blocks from our home. The students at the school speak over 60 different languages in their homes. Their parents come from over 100 different countries.

This, of course, is impossible according to some of our leaders. America cannot hold together if it becomes too diverse. Part of making America great again involves making Americans the same again.

Making all Americans the same has been tried before.

My great-grandfather always said grace in German before dinner. In 1917, when the US entered WWI, he prayed in English. He and his offspring also stopped being “Schmidts” and became Smiths. They were trying to be “American.”

It worked out. It meant that they were not suspected of spying for the Kaiser, and later, for the Nazis. My father’s generation and my own grew up speaking only English, except when someone sneezes. We do not say, “God bless you!” We say, “Gesundheit”. That startles some people, but America does not fallen apart.

Jackson Heights fascinates me because it *does* hold together. It not only holds together, it thrums with energy. There are blocks full of Ecuadorians, Mexicans, Colombians and other Latin Americans . Then there are blocks of Hindus, Punjabis, Bengalis, Pakistanis, Nepalese, and Tibetans. Our closest neighbors are Chinese, Russian, and British.

Whenever I see this panoply of human diversity, I think of John’s vision of heaven in the Book of Revelation:

*After these things I looked, and behold, a great multitude which no one could number, of all nations, tribes, peoples, and tongues, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes, with palm branches in their hands, and crying out with a loud voice, saying, “Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!”*Revelation 7:9-10 New King James Version (NKJV)

Friends and family roll their eyes when I make this comparison.

Jackson Heights is not heaven, they assure me. Not everyone gets along here. Not everyone believes Jesus is the Lamb of God, Much less do they sing His praises all day long.

I know, but this place still works. I chat with people at the supermarket while we are waiting to check out. We make ourselves understood in spite of barriers of language. We laugh at the same things in spite of barriers of culture.

And I am not crazy to think that maybe the answer to diversity is singing together.

Today I read a blog post by a young woman who was riding on the subway one day when a man came on spouting all kinds of bigoted nonsense in a very loud voice. The New Yorkers ignored him expecting him to move on to another car after a few minutes, but he stayed and went on and on. People started telling him to shut up. Some tried to argue with facts, but bigots aren’t part of the reality-based community.

Finally, the young woman told the man that if he did not spouting hate, she would start to sing. The man kept talking, so she started singing, a little shakily at first, “Row, Row, Row your boat . . .”

Others quickly joined her. Soon the whole car was singing, babies were beating time with their little fists. The bigot tried to shout above them, but the voices singing together drown him out. He got off at the next stop.

That incident reveals how all kinds of people can come together. They fulfilled the prophet’s vision.
We don’t have to erase our uniqueness to live together in harmony. A solo voice can be very beautiful. But many different voices singing together create the richer sound we call “harmony.”

When we shout at each other, it is hell.

When our differences come together in song, work, and a common life, it is heaven.