On March 5, 2000, six Friends gathered for the weekly prayer vigil for peace in the world. The following reflections were written by John Gallery:
In the late afternoon the tall buildings west of Independence Mall cast long shadows over the place where we stand beside the Liberty Bell Pavillion. So we look north, into the shadows and then beyond into the sky illuminated by the strong late afternoon light. My eyes and mind on this particular Sunday drift back and forth between the people on the street and the image of the sky above them. The street scene, the buildings and all the people are in this dark grey tone, the sky above is brightly blue, the color blue that paint stores would call "sky blue." Mostly, the people are much the same as on other days — cars speed by and you can hear some people laughing loudly through open windows and I wonder if that is directed toward us; teen-age boys glide by on skate boards, look at us and smile and I wonder what they are thinking. Each week there is at least one person who catches my attention and makes it all worth while. This week it is an Asian American teenage boy. He rides by us on his mountain bike, ear phones on his head listening to some music we cannot hear. His trip from my right to left and out of my field of vision is just a minute. But in that minute he glances at us, reads the signs, nods his head and holds one hand high, fist clenched, in agreement and support of our cause. And then he's gone.
But this day it was the sky that held my attention. Against this incredible blue sky I watched white clouds drift by. They looked exactly like big soft balls of cotton — so real that I could reach up and touch them. And yet I know that if I did I would only grasp moist air. The clouds drift from left to right in my view, ever so slowly as if they had infinite patience. By the time they have reached the other side of my field of vision often they have changed — some merely alter shape, but some fall apart and there are several clouds drifting on or sometimes they fall apart and have disappeared entirely in the minutes that it takes them to cross equivalently from 6th to 5th Street. They have come from China and looked down with equal serenity on what they saw there, and they will drift on to central Europe, Russia, with the same indifference.
Lately I've become quite involved with clouds. I stop as I walk through the city streets and look up and see these gleaming white shapes — huge and puffed up and incredible, magical shapes — sometimes drifting by at their ease, sometimes racing as if driven by a wind I cannot feel. Often in moments like this I say to myself, Dear God how did you ever think of something as wonderful as clouds? But I know God didn't, that what I call God merely put some things in place — in this case sun and air and water — and provided an opportunity for unexpected, or at least unplanned, things to happen. God would have been equally surprised at the beauty of the clouds as I and just as surprised the first time they appeared — well, not surprised because the potential for such a phenonema existed in what had been created. And this is how I think of my life — that God has put things out there for me to interact with and when I am in harmony those interactions produce wonderful and unexpected results of great beauty and inspirational joy. Standing on the mall is part of that, placing myself there and waiting for whatever it is I'm supposed to interact with that day, this day being clouds. Looking up at the clouds gives me a sense of scale and of the larger universe that looking at the street scene and the works of man obscures. To be outside in the natural world brings me back to a sense of myself as a creature, just a small creature and one of many, in this world, in this universe, vibrating in harmony with all the others. In those moments I can easily say with Jesus, I and the Father are one.
Being in the natural world inspires my spiritual thought. In Buddhism there is the concept of "entering the stream." The development of a spiritual life has many stages. One is the equivalent of sitting by the stream and admiring it, much as I am admiring the clouds. We want a spiritual life and even just to want it is inspiring, but that's all we do, sit and watch. The next stage is like putting your toes in the water, just testing it as it were. To me that's equivalent to praying or meditating occasionally. But that's not enough to move us forward. Entering the stream for a Buddhist means making a serious commitment to a spiritual life by making a commitment to consistent spiritual practice. You haven't yet reached a spiritual life or even given yourself over to it, but entering the stream, feeling the cold water on your legs and taking those steps nonetheless is the start. It's like setting your hand to the plow and never looking back. I guess there is one more stage, which for me would be lying down in the water, floating, letting the current of the stream carry you as it would carry a leaf. This is the surrender to God that makes all else possible. Complete peace, complete surrender to the current of the universe and where it carries you.
Where am I? Sometimes it seems I'm just standing on the street corner looking at the clouds and saying how beautiful; sometimes it seems that I'm just getting my toes wet by standing on the mall with a sign. I imagine Jesus in the same position — sitting on the Jordan riverbank watching John baptize and I wonder what it was, in that moment, in that time of his life, in that place, on that particular day, with that particular man, with the blue sky above filled with the same white clouds, what it was that gave him the inspiration to enter the stream.
Peace. 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