“The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” – John 1:5
Shalem Institute invites you into a new special limited series:
“Contemplation in Troubled Times”
Minnesota’s example of courage and nonviolent action in the face of oppression is something we continue to witness and be in solidarity with as best we are able. It also extends beyond Minnesota to our brothers and sisters across the U.S. and around the world.
Whether contemplative practice is something you have drawn upon as a grounding force, an uplifting one, a reminder of the dignity and divinity in all being or all three, it is something that connects us and strengthens us.
We welcome your reflections, thoughts and comments below the blog or via email. Thank you so much to our contributing writers!
The season of Advent began quietly enough in Minnesota. Early in December ICE agents arrived and gradually caught the attention of neighbors and local news with their aggressive tactics that escalated from quiet arrests to random kidnappings in broad daylight. On January 7 everything escalated as we witnessed the murder of Renee Good followed by the murder of Alex Pretti on January 24 – all amid countless inhumane tactics to arrest the “worst of the worst”, as they were portrayed. You’ve probably seen the images. When friends from outside of Minnesota called to offer support, they would often ask if it was as bad as they were witnessing on the news. “It’s worse”, we would reply.
Congregations prepared for ICE invasions. “They need a warrant signed by a federal judge” we were told. We soon learned that this was a pipe dream. At the congregation I serve we needed to quickly assemble a response plan to protect our vulnerable staff members and PreK families. Many members attended peaceful protest training, forged whistles with 3D printers (stores had run out) to alert neighbors to an ICE presence, and parents organized to keep all neighborhood children safe. It was rumored that ICE was tapping into social media and email accounts so new ways to communicate were created.
At one peaceful protest training attended by 1000 people in a local church, attendees were told “no one is coming for us”, which only seemed to strengthen the resolve of those who were determined to protect the countless innocent souls targeted simply because of the color of their skin. We couldn’t fix the disease of systemic racism and greed, but we could protest this disease even on the coldest days of the year, and we could care for our neighbor next door.
Each Sunday pastors needed to address the growing darkness. Personally, I could feel the anxiety and fear that escalated each week that carried a sense of “do something!” about this horror. What could I do? As a contemplative I was drawn deeper into prayer, sometimes prayer with my feet to help mobilize food delivery to neighbors in hiding, and protest support. We prayed for both the victims of violence and those that inflicted the violence. In worship we began our services by lighting a candle and praying John 1:4-5, an early Epiphany text. To be honest, somedays I would light that candle, say the words out loud, and silently pray in my heart, “I sure hope this is true”. Thank God for candles, and prayer, and community.
Of course, the light was present throughout, as Jesus always is. What kept a lot of us going was the spiritual practice of looking for light. Together. At staff meetings and gatherings with friends we would share stories of how the Light showed up through whistle blowers, food deliverers, singing resistance gatherings, peaceful protests, playful protests, and hopeful humor like the meme, “They made the classic mistake of invading winter people in the middle of winter”. And the joke, “how can you tell if a Minnesotan is mad at you?” “They don’t help you push your car out when you’re stuck in the snow”. Now when I write these, they seem pretty lame, but they were a lifeline of Light at the time.
Although diminished in numbers, ICE is still here, and we know we all will be recovering from this trauma for a long time. Light is showing up as our local government and local organizations work to shore up funds for rental assistance, food insecurity, and legal support. Our resolve hasn’t waned. What we have learned and continue to learn will take months to sort out. For now, I’m deeply grateful that the Light that shines in the darkness is not dependent on my level of trust in this Light. I will continue to lean into the light that shines through one person, one neighborhood, one prayer, and one candle at a time.