A few years ago I walked in to church. The minister had a jar with oil and water on his table of visual aids. He had, for our sakes, dyed the water blue so that people in the back row could see it. Or the front. He was talking about the divisions between people that seem to have no common ground. On a large poster the minister held up was a Venn diagram, with a red circle overlapping a blue one. The wedge in the middle was purple.

 

When he stirred the oil and water, to combine them, the liquids staunchly refused. Blue on the bottom. Gold on the top. Harumph. But then he tried something I have never heard of. He added an egg yolk. And stirred vigorously. I cannot be sure but I think I heard muttering, as the particles of oil and water bashed around, conceding. Their presence with one another seemed less offensive, and the jar now held a swirling mix of lighter blue. Neither cerulean, nor yellow, but something in between.   

 

The story from the Bible was the one where Joseph and his brothers are at odds, and cannot speak peaceably to each other. There is a series of agitations, including betrayal, deceit, and anger. But when Benjamin, their youngest brother comes to Egypt, they reconcile. They forgive. 

 

I was sitting next to Benjamin. My Benjamin. I thought of the times our family has risen above our lesser selves on his behalf. When his hand fluttered in the air to be called on I wondered what he would say. 

 

"We are more alike." Hmm?

 

What did that mean? 

 

The gap between autism and neurotypical is substantial. He will never have a full time job. His brothers will. He will never marry. Two brothers have. 

 

Yet there is a sacred space where all of us meet, and after the swirling dies down we will find we have become an entirely new color.