Day of Sorrows: Intersections of Faith and Justice

Submitted by Mary Emily Wells on April 5, 2007 - 12:59am.

It could have been miserable—the pouring rain, my soaked canvas shoes, an umbrella flipped inside out by the relentless wind—but something made it sacred instead. Maybe it was the songs we sang, songs of protest and repentance inscribed on our hearts. Maybe it was the absurdity of marching through the Yale University campus following an eight foot, gold processional cross. Maybe it was the day itself: April fourth, the anniversary of the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr.

Thirty Yale Divinity School students and faculty gathered at noon to commemorate a Day of Sorrows in the middle of Holy Week. After an opening prayer, we dedicated a tree on our campus as the Tree of New Life, a sign of our commitment to prophetic, redemptive work in the world. Then we marched through campus, between fortresses of stone and ivy, to the New Haven Green where we walked the Stations of the Cross.

Each station focused on an historical or current injustice of importance for our neighborhood. We prayed, repented, and received a call to vigilance, solidarity, and prophetic work. We commemorated Bishop Tutu corner, and decried Yale’s refusal to publicly divest from South Africa during apartheid. We stood on the sidewalks where Black Panthers rioted and Yalies locked their doors. At the bus stop we prayed for our homeless, uninsured, and unemployed neighbors. In front of bakeries and boutiques we cried out for fair labor practices and justice in our economic policies. We sang at the courthouse, and at the flag pole confessed the sin of our allegiance to the not-God of violence.

It could have been miserable—trudging through the thick mud of our life together, letting the weight of the rain and our sorrow soak through our many layers—but something made it sacred. We knew, as we walked, that no one follows the cross alone. Not through the streets of New Haven, not through a life of costly discipleship. On this day—a day like and unlike any other day—we knew the presence of Jesus, of the martyrs and prophets who went before us, of the almost, already reign of God broken open like the clouds.

» read more | Mary Emily Wells's blog | add new comment

Strengthening the progressive Christian network for justice, compassion, & peace