On January 23, 2000, two Friends gathered on Independence Mall to hold our weekly prayer vigil for peace in the world. It was 26 degrees and there were patches of slushy snow on the ground. Over the course of the hour, our feet gradually grew numb.
There were fewer passersby than usual; nonetheless some stopped to take our flyer or gestured or spoke some words of solidarity as they walked by or photographed us. One man said he wanted all of the different pamphlets about Quakerism that were on the table.
"You guys started Pennsylvania," he said.
During the vigil, while praying, I (Marcelle) had recurring images connected to John Gallery's vigil report for last week. I saw handfulls of seeds being tossed over the pavement. Then, to my surprise, I saw images of sturdy plants growing up through the brick pavement. Something is growing here already, I felt. Something is growing in my heart. Flashes of memories came to me of ways I have been learning to be more open to others and more able to address conflict in a loving way since I began participating in the vigils.
The week before there had been a moment during the vigil when my heart had felt completely tender and open, without defenses. I had looked at a group of tourists photographing us and wondered what they'd think if they could see inside me, see how my heart had melted into a defenseless openness and a feeling of tenderness toward everyone. In a world in which it seems one needs much savvy to try to face up to the great evils of our time, standing on the street holding a sign and feeling a great melting openness inside seemed a peculiar response to the world's condition. Then I remembed the advice of Jesus when he sent his disciples out two by two: be wise as serpents and gentle as doves.
A policeman from the city of Philadelphia stopped and asked us what organization we represented.
"We're Quakers," I said. Then he asked if the Park Rangers knew we were there, and I told him we had a permit and that we'd been there every Sunday since April 4th.
"Would you like to see our permit?" I asked.
"No, I trust you," he said.
I found myself humming "Kuymbaya," perhaps to help me keep warm. At five o'clock, John Gallery went to get his car, leaving his table and sign in my care. He was gone about ten minutes. I decided to continue the vigil while waiting. I held John's sign, which says, "Pray for Peace in the World," followed by the word "Peace" in about a dozen languages, and began to sing "Kumbaya" out loud. Though I seemed to be alone, I didn't feel awkward at all — cold, but peaceful.
As it turns out, I was not alone. Jorge was maintaining the vigil in Quito, Ecuador, during a time of much turmoil in his country. He had gone to the Plaza Grande, the site of the vigil last summer, but it was deserted except for military police. After half an hour he walked to another Plaza in order to interact with more people. His sign read (in translation): "Pray, turn to God, walk in Truth, seek peace, do justice, turn to God, pray." Many people stopped to ask him to explain more about his sign. He's writing a report, which will be sent out next week. He says hello to everybody.
Many readers wrote to comment on John Gallery's report for last week. John writes:
I have been greatly moved by the comments that have been forwarded to me from readers of the vigil report in which I shared my reflection on the parable of the sower. It has helped me greatly to know that there are so many out there reading the reports and holding us in the light. Now when I stand on the mall, regardless of how few or how many other Friends are present, I know that there are many more standing with us. Peace be to all of you. — John Gallery
BACKGROUND INFORMATION ON THE
Independence Mall Vigil for PeacePlease join us at our weekly prayer vigils for peace in the world, held in front of the Liberty Bell on Market St. between 5th and 6th, every Sunday from 4 to 5 PM. For more information, contact cityquake@aol.com.
In our reports, participants share their experiences of the prayer vigils and explore beliefs related to their participation. Reports reflect the experience of each author and do not necessarily represent the beliefs or practice of all vigil participants. We welcome your responses, which are forwarded to the individual authors (when possible). We sometimes include part of a response in a future report, unless you ask us not to.
It is meaningful to us that you share in the vigils by reading these reports and in other ways, such as joining us in prayer.
Last modified: Wednesday, February 18, 2004 at 08:18 AM