When I was a kid, I lived on the campus of a private school.  On Wednesday and Saturday afternoons, we often went to the athletic fields and cheered for the Orange and Blue. My father wore a blue baseball cap with an orange M. I took it seriously, shouting whenever my team got a run, made a goal, or won the race.  One afternoon as the games were winding down, a man wearing a Blue and Maroon Cap with the letters BH on it came over to the Orange and Blue side and found my father.

From rival teams, they greeted one another as friends; as a child I was confused.

My father loved this man from the other school, the rival team.   They were brothers.   For Christmas, their mother knit an orange and blue scarf for one of them and a maroon and blue scarf for the other. Being brothers was far more important than color of the caps they wore.

In these political times, may we remember that there is more that binds us together than tears us apart. May we all be brothers and sisters, children of the living God.