The Jericho Walk--the Right to Remain in Justice and in Truth

This week has been an incredible week for me as I spent three and a half days with clergy colleagues and lay people at Middle Collegiate's Leading Edge conference--this year with a focus on Igniting Social Justice through Worship and the Arts.  I learned, experienced and shared so much that sparked that flame of justice inside me.  The Jericho Walk in Washington, DC this morning was living proof of putting our faith into action.

Last summer, the New York City New Sanctuary Coalition began holding Jericho Prayer Walks in favor of comprehensive immigration reform.  The Jericho Walk continues around Federal Plaza in Manhattan every Thursday but today was different--today we joined hundreds and hundreds of others who had gathered outside the US Supreme Court since Monday in a 48 hour vigil regarding the Supreme Court deliberations on Arizona SB 1070.

NYC clergy, lay leaders, Dreamers and one small one climbed aboard the bus to DC at 4 am in Manhattan.  We encountered traffic and Ravi Ragbir, organizer for the New Sanctuary Coalition and for this Jericho Walk, contacted the organizers in D.C. to coordinate the Walk. Once we arrived, people greeted us with shouts, "New York is here, New York is here."  We explained the essence of the Jericho Walk, read the prayer in English and Spanish and set out circling the Supreme Court, praying the Jericho Prayer silently as we walked. From many different faiths, we united in one simple prayer for justice and dignity, with the Shofar and two trumpets sounding at each corner:

"Dear God, you are a God of love and you call us to love and to take care of each other so that we can build a society of love, peace and justice … We pray you will give us all the right to remain in justice and in truth. Amen"

"Querido Dios, tu eres un Dios de Amor y os llamas a amarnos y cuidarnos los unos a los otros y así poder construer una sociedad de amor, paz y justicia… Nosotros oramos: para que tu nos des ell derecho a permanecer en justicia y verdad. Amen."

We began the walk with those who oppose SB 1070 but opponents stood right next to those who support the law.  Walking around the block, songs, chants, children's voices, tourists--all formed the backdrop.  As we came back full circle, we raised our hands in the direction of the Supreme Court and repeated the prayer silently.  Lowering our hands, the Shofar and trumpets blew a signal to begin walking again.  Completing the fifth time circling the block, I felt something different than on other Jericho Walks. I felt a heaviness in my back and shoulders--more than just tired muscles, it felt as if the weight of all those millions who suffer came together in my heart.  In my mind, I envisioned those I know personally who were threatened with deportation.  I saw my colleague, an imam who serves our local community so well, who faced deportation and separation from his wife and young son.  He was successful in staying in this country.  But a cloud of other stories I have heard, voices I know, cries of children wrenched from their parents, the elderly, the sick, the hungry, the poor, all came flooding over me.  Each step, I felt the agony of those who suffer.  And yet, the Jericho Walk is such a deep spiritual practice that it connects you in love to those who stand on the opposite side.  As with the Civil Rights movement and other civil disobedience movements where the call was to justice AND love, there was none of the usual demonizing or demeaning of others I've experienced at some protest movements.  The silence during the Jericho Walk is pervasive--it sets a sacred space that connects you with the Divine and with the call to act in solidarity with those pained everyday by our entrenched immigration system and unjust policies.  

After the seventh circle around the Supreme Court, we raised our arms again and Father Fabian read the Jericho Prayer in Spanish while I read it in English.  And then we began the lament--the shout of all the sorrow and pain accompanying those who came from Arizona, those who have long been working to bring greater justice, love, fairness and dignity to people's lives.  Without words, the cry continued, bursting from our hearts and lungs, spilling onto the steps.

We ended with that cry but then the most beautiful thing happened--women from Arizona carrying a Statue of the Blessed Virgin said thank you to the Jericho Walkers for walking and for their being able to walk with us.  They looked at me, our eyes filled with tears and we embraced and I thanked them for their presence and I whispered that we would overcome this.  I think I will always have their image in my mind and heart, women coming from across the country carrying a precious symbol of their faith, hope and love that change will come; that we will build the beloved community together--one step at a time.  One walk at a time.  May that be so.