Children of Light, Children of Darkness

Anonymous As we move through life, we are constantly, eternally aware of our position in relation to other people. Much of our identity is based on our connections with others - mother, daughter, sister, friend. How we relate with other people can also help define our role in community settings. Are you a leader or a follower? The class clown or the thoughtful introvert? And whenever we begin to talk about our place in a community, we also consider whether we even fit into the community at all. Are you an insider or an outsider? A child of light or a child of darkness?

The insider/outsider dichotomy has been a part of humanity ever since people began identifying themselves with specific groups. The mysterious religious community at Qumran, which we have been discussing in class, made a very specific distinction between the 'in group' and the 'out group'. The Qumranites made it plain in their writings that members of their community were the only righteous Jews, and everyone else was vile and corrupt. For them, you were either a child of light or a child of darkness. In or out. There were no in-betweens.

Citizens of the modern world are also acutely aware of the 'in group' and the 'out group'. Our entire middle school years are dominated by an intense desire to be members of a certain group. Even once we leave adolescence behind, the distinctions between light and darkness remain. If you ask any fan of the Oregon Ducks, they'd tell you Beavers fans are walking a dark and treacherous path toward God's imminent judgement (and we all know the Beavers would claim the reverse). In the end we're all Oregonians, some of us just happen to believe we are the only true and righteous Oregonians in the land. The same can be said for the Qumranites - in the end they were Jews just like the people of Jerusalem, and yet they saw themselves as better and more pure than their cosmopolitan cousins.

As my adventure in Greece reaches its half-way point, I must also consider my position as an insider or outsider. Within

my own little cocoon of PLU students and professors, I know I am an insider. But as I've been walking around Athens these past days, I've also become aware of my designation as a total outsider. I've seen the smiles and stares on the faces of locals as my classmates and I bumble around Athens like boisterous, giddy tourists (which we are, of course). I've sat uselessly at a table in a cafe, unsure of how to proceed because I don't know local customs regarding what to order or how to pay. Everything about me screams 'outsider', and the observant people of Athens can probably sniff me out within a five mile radius. And yet my status as an outsider doesn't really bother me. I think the Qumranites and fanatic Oregon football fans have it wrong when they say there are no in-betweens, just insiders and outsiders. Just because I'm an outsider now doesn't mean I have to be one in the future. I can be a child of light and a child of darkness - not everything has to be painted in black and white.