PROCESSING FOR PEACE

Last Saturday, September 21, was International Peace Day.  Our church and art center celebrated in many ways: a street fest with bouncy castle, barbecue, live music and games and an outdoor projection on our 114 year old church building.  The projection included photographs our youth took this summer, along with incredible light art and haunting, beautiful music played by a neighbor.

The most meaningful part of the night for me was a lantern procession.  During the summer, we worked with Bart Buch, a neighbor and artist, to make lanterns.  We made lanterns with children and adults and at an Open Streets Festival.  They were illuminated with little electric candles that flicker, and we walked to different places in the neighborhood that have asked for peace.  This summer has been particularly hard on our community, with opioid use and human trafficking spiking.  At the same time, it has been hard especially for our immigrant families—menacing raids threatened, and the chorus of “Send Them Back.”

From the church, we stopped at Bart’s house, and then at the other side of his alley, where the neighbors organized this summer to help create a safe space.  Needles and other drug items were found in an empty lot, garbage was left all over.  The community put up a fence and reclaimed the space with their presence.

Then, we stopped across the street from the corner store which many people frequent day and night. Their sidewalk is a place where other folks congregate, mostly at night.  We decided to stop at the opposite corner, where there was more space to gather.  I realized that the owner of that corner is a friend from Iran, and there we stood in solidarity with our two peoples.

Then we went to a corner where a couple dozen children catch the school buses early in the morning.  6:30 to 7:00 am is a busy time at the corner, as people from outside the neighborhood buy drugs or sex on their way to work.  It’s actually busy all night long, as those who sell have made it their home away from home.  As we stood and sang our peace prayers, they were watching.  I did not feel afraid Saturday night, mostly because there were quite a few people processing for peace.  And because we had committed ourselves to practice peace whatever we encountered.

There is nothing like walking in the night in silence.  Or as much silence as you can get.  We had children with us on the walk (but to be honest, the adults talked more!).  A police car with its sirens blaring went by, as did a car proud of not having much of a muffler.  And there were the sounds of daily—or nightly—life in the community:  a TV set, people sitting around a table in the backyard, music playing softly.

This morning, I went to the bus stop again, to stand with the parents and children. We are trying to work with neighbors to create a safe space there, and there is a meeting tonight about that.  I have to admit that I was afraid when I got out of my car.  The people who sell were there, but there were no parents or children yet.  I reminded myself that I was still surrounded by the cloud of witnesses who walked Saturday night and many others, which helped.  It was cold this morning, and if I stand in place very long, my knees and back hurt.  So I did a little procession in place, walking back and forth on those sidewalk spaces.

I don’t know what will come out of the meeting tonight, or actions further down the line.  I talked with a parent at the bus stop this morning, and we both shared how we were thinking about winter, as harsh as it can be in Minnesota.  The sellers of the street aren’t that hardy, and there is respite for the community.

But I also think that as a community, we need to be our respite.  We need to walk, even process with each other in more profound ways, in order to build our community into a place where the kind of violence we face cannot easily take route.  That will take a lot of walking, a lot of processing, but we are not walking alone.

Be justice. Be beauty.  Be a procession of hope.

Patrick