Dear Friends,
The following report was written by Kathryn Gordon, of Unity Meeting, Frankford, who has been a regular participant at the vigils since they began in April:
We were seven this week. It was the coldest Sunday yet, though not so very cold — 49 said the digital clock that on a hot day once rose as I watched — 92-93-94-95, within a few seconds. Malfunctioning, or overreacting to the setting sun, or spirit telling me through liquid display to stop worrying so about the temperature, the time.
I had missed two weeks. Now the sculpture of a lighting bolt could be seen clearly behind the bare trees. Now passersby passed by faster. One said, "Thank you." It was the first thank you I had heard while praying for peace (or trying to). And the woman who said it seemed genuinely grateful, not for our standing there only, I supposed, nor for our signs (Steve Gulick had one boldly printed: Peace is love in action), but for our effect on her.
What effect it was I can only conjecture. But from her smile and her hearty thank you I imagine it was a good one. I know prayer is a force, natural as water flowing, making energy, eroding rock, cleansing.
Then I noticed the postures of people — one man walking with a rhythm in his shoulders, an older one with hurt in his hips. Many gaits unpeaceful, pained. The violence of the world in our bodies, our faces.
I saw in myself coldness toward another, a young woman in my life, a mother. Behind the coldness, anger; behind that, hurt. And I would not let the water of my prayer wash over it. Or maybe the stream was too weak, dammed by worry, by the distractions of the body — cold hands, pain in my hips. ... I put my sign down, propped on my shins, put my hands in my pockets. The sign said, "Make peace, do justice." Were two things — two acts — being advised, or was this a position statement; that to live peace we must work for justice?
Well, I didn’t think about that then, only now, when thinking about praying and trying to pray, with cold hands and the prospect of colder Sundays. The cardboard sign slid imperceptibly down my shins to rest on my sneakers and then the ground. I didn’t notice it was flat on the ground till someone stopped to read it, looking down at my feet, reminding me of the sign there. Make justice, do peace. No, the other way around. Prayer can be like a lightening bolt too, but what clashing of air masses, what cold air meeting hot in the high sky comes first, I’m not sure. I pray for peace in my heart where that coldness, layered above anger, above hurt, had been, and in the life of the young mother who came to my praying/trying-to-pray mind last Sunday, on the mall, before the bell.
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