Gratitude, grief, and generosity

Micah 6:8: What does God require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?

I spent yesterday (Thursday, January 22) with several hundred clergy and faith leaders who came from all over the US to witness to what is happening here as ICE overruns our state. This was a group of people from many different faith communities: Christian, Jewish, Hindu, Sikh, Muslim, and more. These people paid for flights into the metro, they paid for their own lodging and food, and they did it all on a week’s notice.

It was just a week ago that MARCH (multi-faith, anti-racist, change and healing convening) put out a call to clergy and faith leaders.

And people came.

I am deeply grateful to Westminster Presbyterian Church, who provided a warm, welcoming, and gracious hospitality to everyone.

So deep gratitude, first and foremost.

And then grief. Grief that people needed to disrupt their lives in this way to come here. The organizers had many rich and powerful things for us to do together, including singing and workshops on skills. They called on poets and native leaders. They invited beauty and love into the space. They also offered a panel of people from across the area who have had direct experience with ICE.

Grief welled up for me again during that that panel. I know these stories, I’ve heard many of them first hand already, and I have friends who have had direct experiences of the brutality and viciousness of ICE agents.

It is so, so hard to stay present to what is happening here. I want to run and hide, I want to pull the covers over my head and pretend it isn’t happening. I may be able to do that, briefly, because of the color of my skin, but it would mean isolating myself fully.

I cannot do that. I will not do that. I need to stay present to this grief, to this fear, to the anxieties and horror that are present here.

What yesterday reminded me of, is that we are not alone. People from LA, people from Chicago, were here talking about what they had learned when ICE came to them. And to a person they were clear about how much worse what is happening here, is.

ICE is testing strategies to subdue whole communities, and these folk from across the country shared how important it is that people here are resisting, are standing in love with their neighbors, are creating "hyper local" groups (that is, just one block at a time) to care for each other.

So now the generosity. There are mutual aid groups popping up all over this state, and there is so very much creativity!

There was a powerful livecast of a multi-faith prayer service from Temple Israel this morning (Friday, January 23).

What enormous generosity this Jewish congregation showed in inviting diverse faith groups into their space! The Muslim call to prayer was haunting and aching, and struck a chord deep within me.

So much was said that moved me:

"We do not gather in fear, but we gather in hope and peace. We are filling the air waves with trust, and hope, and love."

"Each and every one of our traditions believes in the dignity of every human being."

"Our diversity is our strength here."

"We are not going to let our differences divide us, we are going to deepen our harmony. We are going to spur ourselves to curiosity, and compassion, and hope for the future."

Tears came to me as I listened to our senators — Amy and Tina — and so many other elected officials, read a prayer together. I can’t remember a similar kind of moment.

Rabbi Marcia Zimmerman lit a candle of remembrance for Renee Good, for all those detained, and for everyone who has sacrificed their lives, and then everyone sang "We shall overcome."

I love that the service included a Buddhist teacher who shared a loving kindness meditation. This kind of embodied space and breath was also something that was offered at various moments yesterday at Westminster, and I think helping each of us to attend to our breath is so important in the midst of all of the grief, anxiety, and fear that is flooding our communities.

Bishop Mary Ann Budde (who needs no introduction) offered to "connect the dots" between what is happening here and throughout the country, and to take that knowledge with her beyond Minnesota.

I don’t know that I captured her direct quote, but here it is as close as I could get it:

"We can show the country what it looks like as we use every tool available to us as citizens, but also as we witness to the vast reserve of community action and determination to love our neighbors and attend to the fabric of community and care that sustains us all."

My tears flowed as we sang Holly Near’s song "We are a gentle angry people." It’s been years since I’ve sung that with a group, and even though I was at home and merely watching a livecast, I was singing it with tears flowing down my face.

Several leaders of different faiths lit candles accompanied by brief words from their faith, and then everyone sang "This little light of mine."

The service concluded with a reminder that "the evil is when we do not know our neighbors" and with a call to go forth in faith, in strength, and in love.

I needed this service from Temple Israel today. I needed all of the gathering yesterday at Westminster.

I walk forward in gratitude, in grief, and in profound awareness of how reaching out in generosity is healing.