I stood by the side of the road last night, my sign illuminated by passing headlights. I stood with family, friends, and neighbors I had never met on a cold December night in Howard County. There was no bellringing, there was no carol singing. The air was filled with traffic noise and the chants of remembrance and calls for change.
Trayvon Martin.
Eric Garner.
Mike Brown.
Sending love. Not one more.
As the rhythm of the call and response washed over me I thought of my days in the choir of Grace and Saint Peter's church, processing round and round the great space as we chanted The Great Litany. Incense, vestments, candles, and processional cross making the time-honored journey of saints and remembrance.
Saint John Baptist,
Pray for us.
Saint Joseph,
Pray for us.
Saint Michael,
Pray for us.
Our church last night was the side of the road and our vestments were winter jackets and reflective vests. Our candles were battery-powered. Our banner was love.
(Photo Credit: John Harris)
In my heart were other names: Andy, Norman, Myles, Trey, Billy...former students who are now grown up--all young men in this culture that is more likely to throw their lives away than to raise them up in prayer. Keep them safe, I prayed. Keep them safe.
Sending love. Not one more.
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