Posted on by PeaceBang

Boston

Hi, dearests.
Yes, I am in the Boston area. Our great and beautiful marathon has been bombed. I am sick and furious.

I am sitting in the church. The lights are on, the doors to the street are open. Even if no one comes in, they see the open doors. They drive by them. They know the church is open for prayer or conversation.

I am sitting in one of our box pews with a little wooden occasional table holding my Mac. Welcome to 21st century ministry. I have put unlit candles on the pulpit table along with a bouquet of flowers and a lit flaming chalice, symbol of our Unitarian Universalist faith tradition.

At 7pm I rang the bell for a minute and a half. Not to announce anything but the church’s presence in a time of chaos and anger.

You know what phrase I’m getting tired of hearing? “We offer our prayers to the victims and their families.” There’s nothing at all wrong with the phrase, I’m just tired of needing to hear it so frequently. “Our hearts go out to the…” “We are saddened and angered to…”

Another day, another gun massacre.
Another day, another bombing.
Someone asked me who I think did it.
I have my assumptions but I’ll let the FBI do its job. We’ll know soon, I have every confidence.

I’m on Twitter and three Facebook accounts. Trying to connect with stranded marathoners. I want to offer hospitality but I’m not sure where or how. I have offered my guest room and someone may be able to use it, although I live a bit far from the city. I notice that several of the posters on the help line are glbt runners in town with same-sex partners. I am proud of our Commonwealth’s status as the first to legalize same-sex marriage. I love that the Boston Marathon hosts the world for this one day a year.

Some jerk won’t ruin it for everyone else. “Guide my feet while I run this race for I don’t want to run this race in vain.”

How does this all connect to the ministry of BTFM? Just this: religious leaders have a lot to say about the culture of violence. We can’t speak powerfully if we look like a bunch of harmless frumps. It’s so easy to ignore earnest, drab little people spouting bromides about peace, love and understanding. I want you to be fierce. I want you to be compelling. I want you to sound powerful, look powerful and be powerful.

Put any clichés and bromides you were thinking of spouting through the shredder right now. America needs your strong voice, your passion, your intensity. And believe me, Boston isn’t a kumbya kind of town anyway. If you’re going to pray for us, and I know you will, send out something as tough as we are.

And thank you.

9 Replies to “Boston”

  2. Thank you, Sara. This brings to mind a pretty song I sang as part of the children’s choir at the church I grew up in, under the direction of The Sainted Mrs. Whatshername (it’s late and my mind is blank). “Lovely appears, over the mountains, the feet of them that sleep and bring good news of peace, the feet of them that sleep and bring good news of peace.”

    I know. It makes absolutely no sense. But I’m sure those are the correct words. And considering that it was a marathon that was interrupted by tragedy, I like the image of the feet… Make of it what you will.

    Thinking of many loved ones in the Boston area tonight.

  4. I have been reading your blog for a couple of years, and the many ways you have explained your purpose for BTFM with humor and compassion. All of the explanations have funneled down to what I see as your strongest statement yet for your mission, written in the context of this tragedy: “We can’t speak powerfully if we look like a bunch of harmless frumps. It’s so easy to ignore earnest, drab little people spouting bromides about peace, love and understanding. I want you to be fierce. I want you to be compelling. I want you to sound powerful, look powerful and be powerful.” [Thank you, Janet. – PB]

    May the power of the Word we proclaim shine through all of us in Massachusetts in the days ahead, and all places affected by this tragedy.

  5. Thanks for this and thanks for being there. I am praying for all of the parish ministers and chaplains who are offering comfort.

  6. I heard the explosions from my home, which is about 3 miles away as the crow flies. Today is officially the last day of an extended weekend off at the institution where I work, but I emailed my students that I’d be holding office hours from 2:00 till 6:00; they all have projects due this week. When 9/11 happened, I recall that the most helpful thing I could do was to go into the office, meet with whomever showed up, and talk about whatever they wanted to talk about. The Cathedral Church of St. Paul (Episcopal) will be holding a service today at 12:15, and I’ll ride my bike over there first.

    Thanks to your post, I’ll pick out something sharp to wear.

  9. @Judy W. I can’t remember my choir director’s name, either, but I do remember that lovely anthem from “Redemption” oratorio by Gounoud. “Lovely appear, over the mountains, the feet of them that preach and bring good news of peace”. I can still hear our sweet, innocent voices.

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