Then the Lord said to Cain, “Where is your brother Abel?”
“I don’t know,” he replied. “Am I my brother’s keeper?”
I walk on rocky dirt paths and pass huts made of the clay that also paved this road. People call out to me, delighted to see a visitor, and say, "Greetings, sister!"
Sister Emily. I know this title and give friends similar ones. Brother Francis. Sister Ruth. Brother Lawrence.
"Greetings, sister," I say warmly to the mother who has lost three small children from preventable diseases.
So long ago, Cain asked, "Am I my brother's keeper?" We echo this day-by-day.
Brothers and sisters in Syria, Nepal, Congo, Haiti, Mexico. Our brothers and sisters in Christ and of this earth - but do we keep them? Do we intervene when access to basic human rights have fallen away? Do we even care to intervene? Will these be questions of accountability from God one day?
I am my brother's keeper. I may fail at this duty often, but the responsibility has been given to some degree. A union set forth by God and His tender heart for His children. James 2:16 says, "If one of you says to them, 'Go in peace, keep warm and well fed,' but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it?"
Ultimately, the Lord is our keeper and our provider, but He has charged us with the task of feeding His children, of loving His little ones.
Are you your brother's keeper?