Coming up: October 1 at 5 pm, after the vigil, we will once again have the opportunity to participate in Dances of Universal Peace. Please join us!
Some vigils are notable for what is given by passers-by. On September 3, 2000 an Englishman currently working in Kosovo shared with a vigil participant a vision he had for a form of peace work. He wants to find pairs of people who once were on opposite sides of bitter conflicts and wars but have now become friends; he'd like to bring these pairs into areas currently experiencing such conflict to teach what they have learned.
Kaki Sjoggren wrote the following report:
I reminded myself that I am at my vigil-best when I come ready to receive a message. I was alert and aware, but noted little more than an inquiry as to whether we (four of us) were Quakers or Mennonites. There was, of course, the picture taking by tourists, and the usual looking past us into the housing of the Liberty Bell. I took satisfaction from standing in their line of vision, requiring they make extra effort to consume this symbol of revolution.
I vigiled, longing for revolution, at least a revolution of the heart. At the Quaker Lesbian Conference this weekend I'd prayed for such as this. There we labored the inclusion of transgendered persons. I'd celebrated the rightly-ordered consensus decision-making process we are going through, knowing that the process is, in truth, the product. Even while transgendered persons wait, conferees are studying, learning (while discerning Spirit's will), and understanding 'that of the transgendered person' in ourselves and each other.
I vigiled, reflecting on the demonstrations surrounding the Republican National Convention. I had observed by and large that actions of police and protesters were fair and reasonable (coming close to an arrest myself while encouraging adherence to nonviolence). I was grateful to Cental Meeting and Friends Center for opening doors to protesters. Perhaps civil disobedience has become a way of doing business. Even some in the media showed understanding that the line of good and evil runs right through each of our hearts.
I vigiled, anxious that the US money going to Colombia for the "drug war" would be used to make things worse, intensify violence, and spread suffering. I mentally connected the dots between calls for revolution in this country and the civil war in Colombia. In between the lines I saw many political prisoners, ranging from protestors to victims of unjust drug policy.
I vigiled, determined to stand in line of sight not just of tourists at the Liberty Bell, but of the policymakers who have the power to wage peace instead of war. I would like to share a wonderful quote by Edwin Markham (one I use in conflict resolution training):
He drew a circle that left me out
Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout,
But Love and I had the wit to win.
We drew a circle that took him in.And I vigiled, thinking of how Jesus widened his circle to include the Jews, the Gentiles, and even those who killed him. I now have no doubt that Spirit has taken us all into Her loving arms, and has given you and me the power to revolutionize hearts and wage peace instead of war.
Kaki's friend Ellen Freudenheim wrote the following message and asked that it be shared with others. Ellen is co-founder of the Silent March, one of the groups with whom our vigil shared space on the eve of the Republican National Convention. To draw attention to their plea for stricter gun control, the Silent March displayed empty pairs of shoes symbolizing the silenced lives of those killed by guns:
The weekend Silent March at the Republican Convention was fraught. We were besieged by real and anticipated problems — a counter-demonstration, iffy weather, concern that the shoes would "walk" or get soaked with rain, and many logistical headaches. By 4PM on Sunday, I personally was frayed. Our spot at the front of the Liberty Bell was a great way to meet the public, but it also drew a fairly continuous stream of people who wanted to argue the case for gun ownership. While we did not engage in this, it was bone-wearying. At 4PM on Sunday, I happened to be staffing the display. Many of our volunteers from out of town had left. We were looking at having to box up 20,000 pairs of shoes, and I had to make a 8:30PM train back to New York. A man was haranguing us in front of the display, and about 4PM I began to wonder where the Quaker contingent was. The sun was blazing, it was humid, I was tired. Things got busy. At 4:10 I happened to look over my right shoulder.
And there you all were. Standing in complete silence, holding those signs. It was like an oasis, just like an oasis. I hadn't realized until that moment how depleted I felt personally, how stretched. I wondered at the fact that you had all arrived so quietly, as though in mocassins.
Although I am not a Quaker, we have one child in a Quaker School and we have learned a lot from the experience. I know the power of the silence from that, and of course from the shoes.
I found someone to spot me at the display, and stood there with you for five or ten minutes until some mini crisis pulled me away. It was the most restorative moment of the weekend. The silence was blessed. The community was comforting. The relief from the ideological battle I was engaged in was extraordinary. I do believe that when I saw you, Kaki, it was the one moment in the entire weekend when I wanted to cry, although we've only met a few times. Somehow I felt that you understood the personal price of the energy it took to get this thing together. The soft underbelly of the tough energy. Stepping just a few feet back from the display into the silence was wonderful, and even for just those few moments gave me some perspective on what we were doing, what was going on. I didn't ever get to having an inner focus, to be honest, but it was worth a lot just to withdraw and sort of watch it happening from the safe oasis you had created. What peace.
I am certain that you will get this message of thanks to the right hands.
Thank you.
In peace,
Ellen Freudenheim
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