Long ago when I was still a student at Mt. Carmel High School a priest took a group of us outside on a pleasant spring day. As we sat on a set of bleachers he spoke of a native American idiom, “Walk a mile in my shoes.” He wanted us to consider the other person’s point of view before drawing conclusions and judging. He hoped to develop a sense of empathy in us by setting forth various scenarios and asking us how we thought we would react if confronted with similar situations. What we learned on that day is that we each view life just a bit differently depending on our backgrounds and personalities. Still we share certain commonalities as humans regardless of where we may live. Every human being seeks love, understanding, security, and comfort. We may not have much in common with people from other cultures but when stripped of our economic and superficial differences we all experience hunger, pain, and fear. 

We come into this world so pure and innocent. We are like blank slates just waiting to be molded and educated in the ways of the world. If we are particularly lucky, as I have been, we will be surrounded from our first days by love and encouragement. We will enjoy the freedom and opportunity to become whomever we so choose to be. Not everyone is so blessed and therein lie the differences that make it sometimes difficult to understand one another. Over time we are the sum total of our genetics and our experiences. By the simple accident of being born in the United States of America we have a very good chance of living a far more comfortable life than many of our brothers and sisters who share this planet with us. From day to day we may grumble about our bad luck but in the still of the night most of us have to admit that ours is a pretty good life after all.  

Of course even in the midst of the plenty of the United States we have people who struggle mightily. Not all parents are loving. Not every home is a safe haven. Not everyone lives in abundance. There are a host of reasons why some in our midst continue to live in the shadows and to feel that somehow they have been forgotten, often through no fault of their own. Nonetheless, even the most dire circumstances here do not seem to compare with tragedies unfolding in other parts of the world. In particular the situation in present day Syria is unimaginable for most of us. After years of internal strife over seven million Syrian souls have been displaced from their homes and live in bleak conditions in crowded refugee camps. All the while the fighting places them in constant danger. The Syrian people know death and grief all too well. A generation of their children is falling behind in education. Their days are marked by the simple act of survival. It is little wonder that so many of them are taking grave risks to escape to safer places, even knowing that they are not generally welcome in foreign lands. 

All summer long we have seen the images of refugees risking their lives by crossing the Mediterranean in rickety boats or cramming themselves into trucks like sardines to make it to places like Austria or Germany or France. Many have died on their journeys. Others have found hostility and anger from the countries to which they have traveled. We see the pictures of desperation and often find that we cannot relate to their plight on anything other than a simplistic level. We view them as a mass rather than individuals, each with a story just like our own. 

I have tried to imagine what it would be like to suddenly have to begin my life anew in a strange place with only the clothes on my back. Perhaps those who lost everything in hurricane Katrina may have a better idea of what this feels like. Maybe the individuals who have found their way into the United States from places south of our borders might shed some light on the kinds of feelings associated with pure desperation. My grandparents may have been able to tell me how it felt to leave everything behind including an authoritarian and unfair government. As for me I will never be able to fully understand the fear and the courage that it takes to so dramatically change one’s life.

My heart truly bleeds for these unfortunate people from Syria and other countries that have been torn apart, especially for their children. Many of our kids here in the United States throw mountains of food into the garbage each day, even that which is provided to them for free in their schools. They do not know true hunger and what it is like to wander far from their homes in hopes of finding even a small measure of safety. 

Syria is a gooey mess. There are so many warring factions that it is difficult to determine who the “good guys” are. ISIS has taken advantage of the civil war to insert themselves and their demented philosophies into the situation. While the Assad government is most certainly guilty of human rights crimes, the other players in the rebellion have also done atrocious things. The people who simply want to live in peace are caught up in a nightmare while rival factions continue to duke it out. 

Recently an eighty one year old man was beheaded by ISIS. His only crime was attempting to hide some of the precious artifacts of Syria’s ancient history. ISIS is well known for destroying temples and icons that existed before Mohammed because the members see these objects and buildings as being heretical. Only this week the United Nations confirmed that ISIS destroyed the first century temple of Bel in Palmyra, a site that has survived over two thousand years until now. While its loss pales in comparison to even one human life it represents the utter depths to which Syria has devolved. It should make all of us pause to ask what if anything we might do to help the people and others like them from around the world. 

I understand all too well that we can’t take on every problem that occurs in the world. I long ago put away my dreams of unicorns and a perfect universe in which mankind slowly but surely evolves into a peaceful society with no evil or misery. Life has taught me that we will always be faced with violence, bigotry, and horror. Still I do believe that as a whole we might achieve closer approximations to perfection whenever we pause long enough to walk a mile in the shoes of our fellow travelers on this earth. We can see in the Middle East what happens when we close our hearts and insist on withdrawing into our various factions. It is only when we are willing to set aside our rancor and our preconceived notions that we rise to any occasion. It is in our natures to fight to protect the people and the things and the ideas that we love. We just need to always remember that those are not the same for everyone. Compromise and generosity of spirit have always been the best ways of doing business. We can learn from the horrible images that we see from all parts of the world. History reminds us that good most often finds a way to triumph over evil. In all cases freedom has been achieved by men and women working together for a cause that is bigger than all of the individual ideas. 

It would be nice if instead of proliferating the toxic insults of Twitter and Facebook we began a movement to simply say when confronted with disagreeable comments, “Tell me more about what you believe and why you believe it. I’d like to try understand.” Put on someone else’s shoes and walk beside them for a mile, you may learn something that you never before knew.