What is the worst word in the English language?

“The one word more detestable than any other in the English language is the word ‘exclusive.’” 

So said Carl Sandburg, who spent the final twenty-two years of his life at Flat Rock, North Carolina, a suburb of Hendersonville.  This was his answer to a question from the noted CBS newsman Edward R. Murrow.

The poet went on to say, “When you’re exclusive you shut out a more or less large range of humanity, from your mind and heart, from your understanding of them.

Sandburg was born to immigrants from Sweden.  His parents spoke broken English as his father worked long, long hours as a railroad hand. So there’s personal experience in that assessment of “exclusive.”

I saw an example of exclusion or selfishness among some birds in our backyard:

I threw out some scraps, figuring some of God’s critters would come along and eat them.  The leftovers were mostly some stale tortillas. You know how thin tortillas are.  I crumbled the tortillas into little bits and threw them out.  

As I sat at our kitchen table working with my laptop, I glanced up and saw several birds flying around the area where I had tossed the scraps.  I walked to the window to get a better view and was amazed at what I saw:  

       This black bird got one tortilla scrap in his beak, and I thought he would eat it on the spot or maybe fly off to eat it in privacy.  But, no.  He pecked at another scrap and got it in his beak.  I thought surely he would eat them on the spot or maybe fly off to share with his mate.  But no.  This pattern continued until that bird had six or seven pieces balanced in his beak, the ends sticking out either side of his mouth.   

       A bigger bird was right behind him, and this bird wanted to get all the scraps and not leave any for the other.   So the bird with all the stuff in his beak flew off and left the other one to stuff his beak as well.  This second bird flew just a short distance and put his treasure down to eat.  But then a third bird came along and tried his best to get some of the second bird’s feast. There was no willingness to share.  Each bird was out to have exclusive access to the tortilla scraps.

We’re like those birds.  

It’s easy to slide into excluding people who don’t look or talk or act like us:

If we’re white, it’s us against people whose skin is darker.

If we speak English, it’s us on one side and all those others who should learn English.

If we’re Christians, it’s us on one side and Muslims on the other.

If we have enough money to feel comfortable, it’s us on one side and those other folks who ought to go to work.

If we don’t have much money, it’s us on one side and the folks with money on the other.

And the beat goes on.

In the view of the ancient Jews, the world contained only two races of people, Jews on one hand and then everyone else.

St. Paul, a first-century Jew, said,  For there is no distinction between Jew and Greek; the same Lord is Lord of all and bestows his riches upon all who call upon him.  For, "every one who calls upon the name of the Lord will be saved"  (Romans 10:12-13).

Jesus had concern, even for the birds:  He said God is mindful of every little sparrow, none excluded.  

Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground without your Father's will. But even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows (Matthew 10:29-31).