Dear Friends,
I apologize for how late this report is coming out (I've been struggling with my health). On Sunday, December 12, 1999, eight persons gathered to pray for peace on Independence Mall. Among us was Ricardo Esquivia, a Mennonite apostle of human rights, peace, and justice from Colombia, who was visiting the US. He had spoken to a group of Friends the night before, and had delivered a deeply moving sermon at the Mennonite Church in the morning. He confronted us with the example of the biblical Esther, who risked her life advocating for the fate of her people. Like Esther, he said, we in the US have the duty to stand up for our suffering brothers and sisters, facing the powers of destruction. He urged us to rise our voices and take action to support peaceable ways to heal the conflicts of his society now, and, particularly, to ask the US government not to send the $1.5 billion in military aid to the Colombian armed forces, which would only worsen the civil war and the plight of his people.
I am including contributions from three people this time: Dan Homan, from Philadelphia, Marcelle, who continues to vigil in Woodstock, VA, and Caroline K. Wildflower, from Seattle, WA.
Dan writes:
This Sunday, as sometimes happens when I first arrive for the vigil, I felt unfocused and unsure. It comes to me at such times that I don't know why people would have to be reminded not to try to hurt anyone. At such times, I kinda think, why is this necessary? ... And what would we all be doing if not this?
Faithful prayer always follows, but not always directly. I try for faithfulness because it calms and comforts me (although it's God's faithfulness that carries — not mine) and for prayer because, as scripture says, and my experiences have confirmed, "... draw near to God, and God will draw near to you ..." This was one of those times when faithful prayer did not at all follow directly. I was especially distracted; feeling futile and waiting for something. I looked around for the red-tailed hawk that's been there the last few times I've been there, but not a sign.
I then began to feel an urgent need for a rest room, which started me thinking that maybe God wants me to make that kind of a sacrifice at the vigil this week. Just then, I recalled a verse about how God doesn't want sacrifices, but obedience, and when I turned my head, I saw a men's room sign just to the right. Whew! "All things work for the best for those who love God and are called according to his purposes." I greeted a man who was just walking in as I washed up. He later walked by us with a woman. I wondered about how his reaction to us might have been altered by our chance (?) crossing of paths earlier. I know that there've been times that I believe that God has turned a sour mood of mine into one of hope and joy by just a seemingly chance occurrence like a friendly hello from someone passing on the street or a couple of words on a billboard.
Later, for a minute or two, Renata was turning as she stood next to me — a rhythmic turn with a step or a hop or two and then kind of skipping to complete the turn, then repeating the same motions precisely for each turn. Across the street, I saw four or five kids walking by with their parents. The kids were doing a kind of hopping-, running-, skipping-backwards walk while talking happily with their parents and each other as if just enjoying being together. I thought about how much I enjoy just being there with everyone, and it came to me, as it had a few weeks ago, as one of our signs says, that "Peace starts within."
The first time that thought came to me, it really filled me with the freeing truth that we can't "make peace" but we can let it in ... and it was so easy just to let it in. Maybe I had to wait until it kinda knocked on my heart, as it seemed to do this Sunday and the Sunday when it first happened, or maybe it's something that can only be noticed when searched for. It does seem like something that's always there, though.
Neither day looked noticeably different than similar days have looked to me before, through all the years of my life, but it was like a new old thing — like something that's been there, and it's free of charge, but I forgot it was there and my consciousness lost realization that I need it — and that I love it.
What would we all be doing if not this? I believe we would be sharing fellowship and love with each other and/or other loved ones, with the peace and joy and love that we find inside ourselves when we gather with those we love and care about. Just like tonight!
Marcelle writes:
I stood alone for most of the vigil. Few pedestrians passed on the sidewalk, but the signs drew the attention of the drivers on the road. Some people smiled, others laughed, some frowned. Two honked.
For part of the vigil I held my hands folded in prayer, hoping to more clearly signify why I was there. I remembered a gospel passage I'd read that morning (Matt 6:5-6) in which Jesus tells his disciples that they should pray in secret, in their rooms, rather than publicly, as the hypocrites did, who wanted to be seen and praised by others. I put my hands down, though I reflected that today praying in public is counter-cultural.
The setting sun cast a glow in the landscape. I admired the brightness shining off some large clouds and felt moved to lift my hands again. Then, along the edge of the cloud before me, I noticed the shape of a woman's head bowed in prayer, her hands folded. A woman walking her dog stopped in front of me.
"I think it's great you're out here in the cold doing that," she said. Then she added: "I bet God thinks it's great, too." I thanked her and offered her a flyer.
Well, I'd been praised for praying in public.
The clouds in the sky burst into colors, as if into flames.
"God, your beauty is already here on Earth; bring us your peace," I prayed.
I thought I heard a response: "My peace is already here, too, for those who are open to it."
My mother, who had been out of town, pulled up in her car. Together we sang several verses of "Kumbaya" under a gloriously brilliant sky.
Caroline K. Wildflower writes:
A young Friend had a powerful leading to call for a vigil at the end of WTO week and she got the permit and got AFSC sponsorship. It was set to be Friday, Dec 3, 6:30-10 and was scheduled to be in Freeway Park right next to the Convention Center. Two of us showed up there, asked a couple of the National Guard troops where the vigil was, explaining there was a permit. One said, "Oh, then we should clear the park." The other said, "It was canceled."
I decided to vigil anyway and stood on the sidewalk with a flashlight. There were many passing cars. The National Guard folks seemed to find many reasons to march up and down the sidewalk behind us in large numbers, but did not otherwise bother us. I had not brought a sign or a candle. I prayed for peace in myself and for change in the WTO. About 10 minutes later, a man who works at the University appeared to join the vigil, having read about it in a weekly paper. He also brought a flashlight and we vigiled and prayed until about 7:10, as I had not been prepared to stay until 10.
I found out the next day, the vigil had been moved to a park outside the "no protest zone," as our young Friend was afraid it could not be held at the original site. About 80 people came and vigiled there. In addition, there were continuing vigils at the jail over the several days demonstrators were being held there. Vigils and large-group consensus decision-making about what to do next, etc. I was glad that someone had vigiled at the heart of the controversial area, close to where WTO was meeting.
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