Thought for the Week: A silent prayer for peace
Jane Taylor reflects on standing in solidarity
The invitation was issued by Mo: to join in a silent prayer for peace, in Lancaster market square, on the museum steps, from eleven o’clock to noon on Saturday 20 February. Her invitation bore the words:
We stand in solidarity with all those worldwide living in fear and fleeing from violence.
So, here we are. An hour is a long time to stand silent in a public place. Rather than watch the passersby, to see their reactions to us, I bow my head in a traditional posture of prayer.
What do I think of? I find I am thinking of myself, and juxtaposing my own situation with that of all those trudging across Europe. The media repeatedly and lightly use the word ‘unbelievable’; but though we’d rather not, we do have to believe it: we see it on our television screens. But still I find it unimaginable. Unimaginable. What must it be like for them?
It is wet and cold. I know that in less than an hour I will be dry and warm. What of them? How do they get any shelter or warmth? I’m so cold – perhaps I’ll catch a chill. But I have all the facilities available to get better. What do they do if they get ill or need any kind of medical help?
Delicious, tantalising smells waft around us from the market stalls in the square. When this hour is over I could get something hot and tasty for myself. But what of them? How do they get food and fluids? I could use the loo. What do they do for simple, basic things like that? I resist the urge to feel guilty for my wonderfully secure life; but they know no security. They have probably experienced terrible violence and fear for real, and have quite likely left their homes in ruins. If I had to flee, what would I take with me? They, probably, have virtually nothing, having left behind their lives and their possessions, their families, friends and work roles in the hope…
Whatever they hoped for, it can’t have prepared them for this. My mind shifts to those who are responsible for the conflict and violence. I try to hold them in the Light – and struggle to do so. Then it occurs to me that perhaps they believe deeply that what they are doing, in making war, is right – that it is their duty by their faith to do so. And I remember that there is ‘that of God’ in everyone. I find myself thinking that in this context that of God may be just a spark of humanity – the possibility that they will have some compassion for the human tragedies resulting from their decisions. I reach out yearningly with my soul to that spark of goodness in them, trying to make that connection in the Spirit.
It’s wet and cold. But I know that in less than an hour I will be able to be dry, and warm. But what of them – those trudging away from violence across Europe…
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