Joining the Vigil, Part 1. As I sat amongst the members of a church that is theirs, not mine, there were clear messages I took away.
1) Stillness.
Observing with care, stillness and intent was my responsibility and privilege.
2) Respect.
Listening to the words was not enough. It was viewing, feeling the impact on the entire gathering of the words that were spoken, the songs that were sung, learned from childhood. A sacred legacy of customs I may not fully understand yet could fully experience the depth of their meaning, even when shared in another language, their shared language.
3) Community.
The power of a community coming together to support our friends who are good and kind and hurting. As the congregation stood to join in for a familiar, heartfelt song, we all were hushed by the solemnity, bowing our heads, careful not to disturb the sanctity of the moment.
As they stood, many of their heads turned to see all who were seated, nodding in appreciation, somehow surprised to find their 'neighbors' were easily 20% or more of those who gathered. Even if we have very little to offer, our solidarity, support and shared sadness were noticed, hopefully felt.
Unexpectedly making eye contact with a couple sitting on the floor with a baby brought a small smile for their sweetness accompanied with instant tears. How do you raise a child knowing with so many people still want to eradicate your entire culture, your people?
4) Informed, not educated.
Aware of these deeply embedded issues from my teen years, watching events the last few years and now this past horrific weekend caused me to swear to myself to learn more and do more.
Continued, as there is so much to address.
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