how do you call on peace?
a tiny prompt for another tragedy
It happened again, only this time closer to home: a young boy, a dumb gun, five dead and a dog, too. “Did you know about the dog?” I ask Rush. “I don’t want to know about the dog alone.” Texts from friends come in slowly, the kind of texts that literally re-member me. Yes, I live here and they are there but because this keeps happening exhaustingly everywhere, we’re now all members of the same sad club. My newsletter goes out—a celebration of shitty little victories from the week—and my septuagenarian friend replies, “I wrote our senators, as if that would help.” As if ANY of this will help. Is this our new liturgy for the unthinkable? And yet, dear ones, I think it is. I think our liturgy (liturgy meaning our public service, liturgy meaning the work of the people) is the work of as if. We say the horrible out loud, as if. We send the ‘What a nightmare” texts, as if. We call our elected officials, as if. As if ALL of this does help. And we call for peace, too. Sure, I’m just as numb as anyone to the “thoughts and prayers” pleasantries. And yet in the morning-after doom-scrolling, I call for peace as if she might like to rise and answer me: God, in your mercy…
Ponder: In her poem May Peace Come, Ruth Forman invites us to call peace just a little bit closer. As if she may wake. As if she may rub her eyes to see who’s calling. As if she may “take one look / and fall in love / with us all.”
Pause: How do you call for peace? Do you hear peace answer? What does peace look like, sound like, feel like? How is peace calling you to join the liturgy of the unthinkable? Would it help to write this liturgy down for next time? We can wait.
Praise: Good for you. You who refuse to do nothing. You who refuse to do everything. You who say the words, you who have no words, you whose work today is to just keep calling. May peace take one look at your sad, sweet mug and fall bright-eyes in love.
Love this honest post, Erin, and the ponder-pause-praise, especially hearing Ruth Forman speak her beautiful poem. "As if" reminds me of something author Phillip Pullman once said, “I think we should act as if. I think we should read books, and tell children stories, and take them to the theatre, and learn poems, and play music, as if it would make a difference…We should act as if the universe were listening to us and responding. We should act as if life were going to win.” xo -- Shelly