Pluralism as play
In the picture book A Common Thirst by Gary Boelhower, a mixed group of kids and lambs playing together during a devastating drought uncover a solution that saves their communities. Though the adult goats and sheep had previously sought help from each other, they had given up on any interspecies relationship when they saw their own thirst mirrored back to them. But when the thirsty but playful youth explore a cave at the boundary of their two habitats, they discover a spring. The adults’ first instinct is to compete for the water. But a clear, young, vulnerable voice wakes them up to their capacity to share and the reality of abundance.
It’s not hard to see ourselves as the sheep and goats of the story, diverse but all facing the same intractable problem of scarcity. It often seems like working across community lines is pointless. But our (inner) children show us the power of play. To freely access the bounty of the earth, we have to stop trying to get something from others and, when the gifts start flowing, resist the urge to exclude others from accessing them. This is, of course, the ethos of a fun playground.
What makes A Common Thirst a sacred text is not the brilliant insight; it’s the imagery. Beautifully illustrated by Sarah Brokke, we experience Gary Boelhower’s poetry not as moral instruction but as a vision of what is possible in our diverse community and landscape. Those of us worried about the various forms of scarcity dividing us are invited to consider whether they might actually be opportunities for connection via common interests. And for those of us who envision a pluralistic society, the story directs our attention away from the idea that drought divides us and toward our moral responsibility not only to share, but to play.
A moral responsibility to play? Yup. That’s my takeaway.
A Common Thirst has been instructive for me as I watch the group originally named the “Tri-Faith Justice Team” playfully come into being. It was founded in January by UUFM, Manhattan Mennonite Church, and First Congregational UCC of Manhattan to “prioritize and organize actions that align with our shared concerns and hopes for justice; inform and equip the three congregations for action and advocacy; and encourage one another in this ongoing work.” As soon as the second meeting, there emerged a clear consensus that people outside the three congregations should be welcomed in. The group has a provisional new name, “Manhattan Interfaith Justice Team.” From this I gather the founding members already consider themselves a single species, despite belonging to different churches — I would guess goats, not sheep! — and they want to play with others from around town. My initial reaction was negative. How will the group fulfill its aim to “equip the three congregations for action and advocacy” if people from the outside come in with their own “concerns and hopes for justice?” We’re here to solve the problems we already know about, not splunk for more! We came here to get water, not to win a game of hide and seek!
But the water being sought by our tri-faith ruminants is hard to describe in a tidy paragraph, and we never meant to drink all of it ourselves. I do think it’s important to try to write down the aim of the organization — playground games start by agreeing on a goal — but I appreciate that our joint justice team is inviting others into the planning stage and holding the rules lightly. I’m gonna practice trusting that the wellspring will be found. And, like the adult goats and sheep in the story, I hope our congregations will learn to follow the lead of our playful explorers.