Namelessness

Close to fifty years ago, Paul Simon rewrote the Sermon on the Mount with his song “Blessed,” which begins:

Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit
Blessed is the lamb whose blood flows
Blessed are the sat upon, spat upon, ratted on
O Lord, Why have you forsaken me?

And yesterday, at more than twice Paul Simon’s then-age, I found myself also musing about that Sermon, and the huge proportion of Earth-walkers who are some combination of disenfranchised, exploited, homeless, mistreated, but above all ignored. I don’t envy world leaders the challenge of making a world-culture that promotes individual dignity and appreciation. I have almost no notions of what to do, or even try to do, about the lot of these poor souls. I do know it is vital not to pretend that they don’t exist.