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Praying for Courage & Solidarity
This past Sunday Rev. Brian Kirk, pastor of FCC in St. Joseph, shared this prayer at a rally to protest ICE violence.
We appreciate his presence, leadership, and challenge.
Source of all life, and love and being. I do not pray for peace today. I do not pray for peace if peace means looking the other way. I do not pray for peace if peace means ignoring the cries of my immigrant neighbor. I do not pray for peace if peace means turning a blind eye as the oppressors trample on human rights. I do not pray for peace if peace means we value politeness and decorum over public accountability.
I do not pray for peace if peace means maintaining my own security and comfort at the expense of the outsider.
I do not pray for peace if peace means silence when families are torn apart. I do not pray for peace if peace means accepting cruelty as policy and violence as law. I do not pray for peace if peace means we prioritize order over mercy, compliance over compassion.
I do not pray for peace if peace means children wake in fear, if peace means parents are disappeared, if peace means communities live in terror by those wielding weapons of oppression rather than protection. I do not pray for peace if it requires us to forget our neighbors' names, to unhear their stories, to unsee their humanity.
Instead, I pray for courage—courage to stand with those who are afraid, to open our doors when others would close them, to speak names when systems would erase them.
I pray for solidarity that breaks through fear and binds us to one another across every border and barrier.
I pray that we become instruments of true justice, not passive observers of injustice.
May we show up at hearings and knock on legislators' doors. May we accompany our neighbors to their appointments and bear witness in our streets. May we organize, contribute, and refuse to be silent. May we use our voices, our votes, our resources, and our presence to defend the vulnerable.
May we be disturbed from our comfort. May we be moved to action. May we risk something real—our ease, our reputation, our safety—for the dignity of every human being. May it be so.
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