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Who's the Glue?


It’s often the case in families, sometimes a factor with a nation, and usually true for organizations: someone holds things together. It doesn't seem to matter whether that person is young or old, quiet or loud, short or tall, male or female. That person is the glue, the tape, the cord binding a collection of people, solidifying them into more of a cohesive unit. It is often only after that person dies or moves away or resigns that others recognize the influence her/his presence had on the group. And, like a wheel missing a linchpin, the organization collapses, the family frays, the nation crumbles.

Pulling people together seems way more difficult than dividing them. It’s said that nothing unites people like a common enemy. But who or what is deemed an enemy could be a matter of personal opinion and personal opinions run the gamut of persons. It’s also been said that people not already in the middle of a fight will pick one. Rather sad commentary on the nature of we humans. So, recognizing who’s the glue can be important because the purpose of glue is to mend, to aid one thing in sticking to another, to unite.

Shouldering responsibility is seldom a welcome task in a family, an organization, a nation, yet it is essential for life in community. Intentionally stepping up for such a role or inadvertently finding oneself in such a position may feel burdensome, especially over time. Being the glue can take a toll on a person. Others who do not share in the responsibility sometimes yield to the temptation to criticize, cut down, and condemn rather than support, encourage, and assist. No one person can be all things for all people. So, is the hope of unity and peace among people just a dream? If people are unwilling or ill-suited to be the glue, what will become of nations, organizations, and families?

In the early eighties, Stevie Wonder’s song “Used to Be” hit the charts with its haunting questions: Can your teacher read? Does your preacher pray? Does your president have soul? Have you heard a real good ethnic joke today? The poignant commentary continues, The kids are wild; we just can't tame 'em. Do we have the right to blame 'em? We fed 'em all our indecision, we raped their minds with television. The lyrics sing of society coming apart, community crumbling, organizations collapsing, families failing. No glue, no tape, no cord, no linchpin. Remarkably the song ends with a tragic observation: I believe that love can save tomorrow. I believe the truth can make us free. Someone tried to say it and we nailed him to a cross. I guess it's still the way it used to be. Will it always be?

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