Being human, staying humble

A friend once told me she was afraid I wouldn’t get into heaven because I didn’t obey all the biblical laws she believed to be of great consequence. But she was so focused on what would happen after I died that she lost sight of what was important to me then.

I grew up with a different mantra: it’s not just the final destination that’s important, but also the path we travel along the way. As goal-oriented beings, we often forget that.

We view the college degree as important — the future wealth is what matters. And the goal is usually the whole reason we set out on a particular path.

But what about when we all face the same destination?

It was a subject that surfaced more than once as I traveled around Turkey this summer with Christians, Muslims and nonreligious people alike. We all harbored differing beliefs about what kind of afterlife (if any) awaits us after death, and what actions or beliefs will get us there.

But this was a trip about building mutual understanding, not converting others to one’s own belief system.

And the understanding we came to was that while we might not agree on what happens after death, or what might be expected of us by God (whoever that is), our paths to this mysterious final destination are shared ones. And we have the ability and the obligation to improve the lives and paths of those around us.

To be so set on following your belief system’s each and every rule and on making others do the same is to forget to cherish the implicit value of your human relationships.

What it comes down to is a respect for the dignity and the differences of those around you.

Whatever emphasis you place on the final destination you believe in, you can’t deny that this earthly life is what we have now, and it cannot be neglected.

While in Turkey, I saw human dignity and respect for life ignored by Prime Minister Erdogan when his people protested against his authoritarian nature and he vowed to crush the protests with police force.

When I returned to North Carolina, I saw a similar kind of disrespect, albeit far less overt. I returned to a state where a majority of voters had decided that a perceived affront to their God was reason enough to deny the human dignity of ordinary, loving homosexual couples.

I returned to a state that ignores the dignity of its most impoverished. I returned to a nation whose Supreme Court justices seem to believe that racial injustices are no longer worth fighting against.

My professor, Omid Safi, once compared the human search for ultimate truth to fingers pointing toward the moon.

Each finger, each angle and each perspective is a little different. But the moon never changes. And it keeps lighting our way no matter what.