M

going to have to find a translator for you.”
“There is a connection,” the Dalai Lama said. “You see, historians say
that the first human beings came from Africa—our real ancestors. So
God’s creation began in Africa.”
“Not very far from my home,” the Archbishop replied, “the site that
they say is the Cradle of Humankind. So although you look like you look,
you are an African!”
“The European, the Asian, the Arab, the American . . .” the Dalai
Lama began.
“They are all African,” the Archbishop finished. “We are all African.
Some of us were farther away from the heat and their complexions
changed. Now we want to be quiet.”
“Yes. First, you should be quiet. Then we will follow,” the Dalai Lama
said, one last tease before sanctity descended, although I often felt like,
for these two men, holiness and lightheartedness were indivisible.
The Dalai Lama now sat there with his lips pursed together
reverentially. As the service began he nodded his head attentively. When
we stood, he stood straight and wrapped his crimson cloak around him.
His hands were pressed together, his fingers laced. I knew that each
leader was used to serving as the representative of their entire tradition,
and the Dalai Lama was attempting to offer his respects on behalf of the
whole Tibetan Buddhist—perhaps the whole Buddhist—community.

•           •           •

pho Tutu wore a bright red dress and a matching red headscarf as
well as a black cloak. She began with a prayer for all of those
places where injustice exists, where there is strife, and continued to offer
prayers of healing for all of those who are in need. She concluded by
blessing the work that we were doing together.
We finished the prayers and affirmations of the Eucharist with the
words “Peace be with you. The peace of the Lord be with you.” Everyone
went around to kiss and embrace one another. The Dalai Lama was
behind his meditation table. I was thinking about how few embraces he