I showed up at the bar at around 7:15, though the event I found online said that they were going to be meeting at 7. My shift ended at 7, however, and I didn’t know anyone that was going to be there in the first place, so I figured that didn’t really matter that much. I wasn’t even sure who I was supposed to be looking for. I stuttered a little when telling the bartenders who I was looking for. “A group of people, but they wanted this to remain a private event, so they’re probably not going to be very showy.” Two different bartenders pointed me to the party in the back, but that did not look right at all.
I planted myself at one of the tall tables, and a third bartender convinced me to get a beer while I waited. I was eyeing the group outside who I thought was them.
My sister had shared a link earlier in the day on Facebook containing the locations of all the rallies and vigils throughout the country going on this weekend for people who wanted to stand in solidarity with the victims of the recent events that happened in Charlottesville, Virginia. I clicked on it and put in my ZIP code, about 96% sure nothing near me would pop up. But to my surprise…
I took another sip–I was making sure to finish the drink fast enough to be ready to move by 8 (it was only a beer, after all). 8:00 was when the group was going to be meeting in Town Square, mere steps away from the bar I was in. The bartender who’d convinced me to get the beer said he was looking for the group for me, and wished me support in my efforts, because he appreciated my going out looking for strangers for a cause such as this.
At 8:00, I left a $5 tip for my $6 drink and followed the group I’d been watching as they all stood up and made their way to Town Square. I straightened up my polo shirt that had never de-wrinkled from when I stuck it in the dryer in the morning and joined the circle they’d created. Someone had handed me one of the small, battery-powered candles they’d brought in bulk, and I was greeted casually by some of the members who saw me “sneak” in.
Several people spoke about who they were, what they were doing, or why they were there, and others, myself included, took quick photos and videos to share on social media. Some bystanders took photos, some stood behind the circle for a moment, some joined in spontaneously, some didn’t. They asked for volunteers to read a page of 10 ways to peacefully and effectively speak out against injustice, and I read number 7, though had I seen the options beforehand, I would have preferred to read number 10.
At 8:34, the event ended, and the people who’d organized the event encouraged everyone to get to know their neighbors standing next to them. The woman next to me shook my hand, and eventually gave her card, as she’s running for a seat in the Fort Bend County Office.
Throughout the “rally” (I’m really not quite sure what to call it), participants were adamant in making calls for unity and love. Occasionally a small chant of “Stronger Together” were made, but those never carried on because while the event was certainly political, it was never supposed to be partisan.
I left at around 8:50, feeling relieved that I’d sucked up my reservations and just went. It helped that the initial meeting place was a bar, where I could calm some nerves before doing something I’d never really done before.
* * *
Internally, there was a lot more going on than what was presented above.
When I had first found out about the event going on just 5 miles from where I lived, my initial reaction was actually to look for something else. ‘Surely there is a church nearby doing something tonight,’ I thought, ‘A place where there will be prayer. A place indoors, and not public.’
During my breaks at work, I Googled and Facebooked every church and denomination I could think of, in hopes of finding some church somewhere nearby that would be hosting something.
But I found nothing.
In the past, I had attended prayer vigils for refugees and human trafficking. In the past, I’d spent hours in conversation with church groups talking about race relations. In the past, many of these events still had a sense of distance and/or control to them, as well. But that does not appear to be the case anymore.
While I will never be opposed to prayer vigils–in fact, I believe they’re necessary elements for building a stronger Christian and a stronger Church–I am starting to believe that more needs to be done. The Church must be active in matters of injustice. I understand many of the reservations many mostly-white, mostly-conservative, mostly-evangelical Christians possess today (because I, myself still have most of those reservations), but we cannot let that be a part of our identity. We cannot stand idol-ly by in our awkward comfort zones while the oppressed and marginalized–the very people Jesus came to love–are left abandoned by Jesus’s followers. I do not know if that always necessarily entails going out and protesting–though I believe that that is also an important element for building a stronger Church–but it allows no room whatsoever for complacency.
Complacency to injustice is incompatible with people who are called to mourn with those who mourn.
Complacency to injustice is a repellent to the magnetic force of the love that Jesus expects of all Christians.
Complacency to injustice is not and cannot be an ingredient in the recipe for the Peaceful Kingdom of God. It is a poison.
So where is the Church when people–many of whom claim to be fellow followers of Christ–hold rallies promoting racism? And murder innocent bystanders? And deface the image of God that had been embedded in their victims’ genes since the beginning of time?
These situations will always be complicated. But the Church should not be afraid of standing up for the Condemned (see John 8:1-11). Public acts of solidarity are amazing at making the world much smaller than it often seems. Those we are supporting become our brothers and sisters, our neighbors. They become something tangible. They become human (in our minds, at least. They’d always been human). They become Beloved.
The pursuit of peace and justice is long, trying, and harrowing. But it is always a goal worth pursuing.
Thank you for reading. Until next time.
Below: “All is Not Lost” by The Brilliance.