how low is too low?

I thought the theft of a phone from a volunteer who had come to this country to help people was a low act but I heard last night about the theft of Simon's burial money. A con man came to the clinic and told the nurse he was Simon's wontok and was to collect the money that the saint and other disciples had contributed - K3000. The money was handed over and not long after the genuine wontok turned up. The depravity of man respects none - not family or God or animal or property or even the dead.
The poor dead little python about a metre long which I nearly tripped over on my way here - only about as thick as my big toe - brown and black diamond markings could have grown up to be a better member of the kingdom than the low life that steals a dead man's burial money.
This reminder of the misery of man is in focused contrast to the most moving Resurrection service I have ever been to. At Verdis funeral, a solo voice from the mourners began humming the Slaves Chorus from Nabucco. Similarly this morning the congregation began with a few voices quite spontaneously a Melanesian hymn whose words I did not know and the tune was taken up by the cognoscenti until by verse's end the children too were singing what was obviously a Melanesian chant to the glory of the risen Son told in the language that was meaningful only in their culture. As an outsider I was moved to tears in the way I would be moved if Waltzing Matilda were done the same way or the battle hymn of the republic for Americans, as Verdi's was for the Italians. Cognoscentis do not set out to lock others out for what they do is remind themselves that this is us and this is our identity - pikininis, mummas and papas. At least Simon has identity which the low life will never know while ever he pretends to be a Melanesian.