Peace and Justice

As a kid growing up in the post-Vatican-II Catholic Church, I was lucky enough to be exposed to the music of singer/songwriter Ray Repp. I learned it from recordings and from sheet music, sang and played it in church (I was a guitarist in our Sunday-service Youth Folk Group), and went to live concerts to hear Ray himself play and sing it.

Like every prolific composer, Ray had his hits and his flops. But the best of his music still resounds in my soul, calling me to remember what’s most important in this world.

Where there is hatred and pain
Where there is sorrow and shame
And everyone we know agrees there’s nothing more to gain
Where there is anger and fear
And where the darkness is near
There let me bring in my love

Ray was really big on the idea of making positive change in the world, and seeing ourselves as the vehicles of that change. While so many religious composers praised the wonders of that Heavenly City that supposedly awaits us, Ray seemed to be more of the opinion that if we were looking for Heaven, we might just have to create it ourselves.

Come, let’s build the Holy City
Come, let’s build a family
Come, let’s build a new tomorrow
Where our children will be free
We can be a holy people
Living in the light of God
Come, let’s build the Holy City
Build it out of love

The God who dwelt in Ray’s music was more interested in your service to the world than in your belief or disbelief. He asked hard things of those he called as companions.

No more will hunger or sorrow be
No more will people be lonely
My friends, you will carry their burdens for me
You’ll be rich in compassion
The sign of our lasting love

I was convinced then, and am still convinced now, that Ray’s God would have no qualms about accepting anyone into His embrace - young, old, black, white, straight, gay, cisgender or transgender.

For love is colored like a rainbow
And it shines through every day
There are many colors in a rainbow
For we love in many ways

Are you seeing a pattern here? Can you guess what Ray’s favorite word might have been? And do you notice how it’s a challenging use of that word, one that expects us, not to just stand around feeling generally tolerant and beneficent, but to actually DO something?

Peace and social justice were always prime topics for Ray. And always, at some point in every concert performance, he would stop for a moment and say, in a light tone laden with heavy irony: “You know, people keep asking me, Ray, why do you keep writing all these songs about peace and social justice, peace and social justice? Don’t you think it’s about time we stop worrying about peace and social justice and get back to what religion is all about?”

Today, there will be prayer and peace vigils all over the country, in response to the decision in Ferguson not to try the police officer who shot an unarmed young man three months ago. There is a strong belief in many minds and hearts that this decision was motivated more by race than by the evidence. And while most protesters have been peaceful, some have been violent, setting fire to buildings, throwing rocks and shooting off guns.

Regardless of where each of us may stand personally on the Ferguson decision, the fact is that in some parts of the country, the issue of race is still like a gas canister waiting for a match. This may be hard for us to really understand, here in the East where the problem is largely invisible. The area where I live has not historically been a site of large race-related clashes, any more than it has ever been a place where violence against LGBT individuals is frequent.

But there are still places like that, too. And it’s easy to forget that, to think blissfully of how far we’ve come. I move freely through my world, warmly supported by friends, family, coworkers, and my church community. I am aware that intolerance exists, that violence is a real possibility... but I do not walk in constant fear of it.

I can only imagine what it might be like to live openly as either Gay or Transgender in one of those places where fear follows you down the street, where the shades of Matthew Shepard and Brandon Teena still linger on fences and in alleys. And I can’t even begin to really imagine what it might be like to live in one of those places where communities are still deeply divided by race, where abstract concepts like law and justice seem to have colors attached to them in their concrete forms, leaving some to assume that justice must be a vigilante pursuit, or that only loud acts of destructive protest have a chance of being heard. Where, tonight, people are wondering whether their children can sleep safely, whether their windows will be broken in, whether they’ll have no job in the morning because the store has been burned down.

It’s been a long time since I literally believed in the God of those old songs, the one who said:

This is all I ask of you
This is the only praise I seek
That your love be gentle, and your lives be just
And humbly walk along with Me

But I still believe deeply in the spirit of those songs - and especially in the knowledge that, regardless of the existence or non-existence of some grand Authority in the sky, it is still OUR job, here on Earth, to bring that spirit to life.

Please, dear readers, think about this. If there is a peace vigil or a peaceful speak-out in your community tonight, consider joining it. (If you go to my church, there’s one starting at 5pm. Please come!) If there’s a community speak-out, listen to the words and the feelings. If the constant news coverage irritates you, think about how safely far from it all you’re sitting (if indeed you are) and how that changes perspective.

And think of Ray’s favorite word. I wish I could sing you the melody of this, but for tonight the words will have to do:

Where there is hatred and pain
Where there is sorrow and shame
And everyone we know agrees there’s nothing more to gain
Where there is anger and fear
And where the darkness is near
There let me bring in my love

There let US bring in OUR love, my friends. Please?