A vigil in two parts:
I arrived alone for my first of two shifts at 7p. It was an odd feeling to be there while the sun was still "shining." Odd because the street and sidewalk traffic is very different at 7p than it is at 11p. To be honest, I was a bit more frightful during that time than I would be later that night. I fear the angry sane far more than the painfully drunk. The only company I had that hour were a couple of policemen checking in. The Sorrowful Mysteries and Divine Mercy were my companions.
My second 2 hour shift began at 10p to be joined by my friend Kyle. You will certainly appreciate his perspective of the evening's events. For the first 45 minutes or more "Dennis" kept us company. He is by far one of the most interesting characters I've encountered in my time downtown. He was a bundle of random thoughts and exclamations. Really, the coffee is just to keep us warm and awake. And despite his insistence I am not an assassin of liquor store patrons from Utah.
While he was there we prayed the rosary. Dennis was a Roman Catholic after all. He wanted to join in and did sporatically. He seemed to think that in between each decade there was suppose to be an intermission in which he could call for back up or grill us about our place of origin, the contents of our wallet, whether we seriously believed our prayer would make a difference.
This is a question I've gotten several times during the vigil. The fact is I do believe it will make a difference. I believe that God has the power to change hearts by giving them eyes to see truth. I know this because He has changed mine several times over despite my own failings and blindness.
Dennis left us with a prayer which touched my heart. As he bid us farewell I saw a deep appreciation in his eyes. Appreciation that we'd accepted him as he was. That we'd spent time with him and laughed with him. That we showed him respect and treated him with the dignity he deserved.
The evening went on without him. Through Evening Prayer, a litany to the Sacred Heart and Night Prayer we continued to pray that those in the womb would be found worthy of that same dignity by their mothers. I drove off just after midnight glancing at the thermometer in the van. It displayed a brisk 37 degrees. With a shiver, I said a little prayer for Kyle who had two long hours to go. God Bless him.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Day 6: 9/28/09
I'd taken a couple of days off from the vigil to catch up on my rest and spend some quality time with the family. It was hard to stay away because I know the 40 days will be over sooner than we think and I want to do my part.
I took a 10p shift. It was a really good night in many ways. The liquor store across the street closes at 10 so the foot traffic is lighter than earlier in the evening. I noticed the bus driver that went by several times offered us a friendly wave each pass. Bless his soul.
It was a cool night that I shared with our resident cowboy, Bob. As we began evening prayer we were approached by a familiar face. The young man we had helped on Day 2 returned to thank us for calling 911 for him. He did get his wallet and military ID back and the perps were apprehended (I always wanted to use the word "perps" in a story). Unfortunately he was also drunk yet again.
He explained that he'd known the people who robbed him from treatment and couldn't understand how they could do such a thing to anyone. He also admitted that unless he changed the direction of his own life, he may find himself doing the same sort of thing.
Eventually, he came around to talk more about what was troubling him. He had done two tours in Iraq and lost several friends including his best friend killed in action. He wears a bracelet in remembrance of his friend. Tears filled his eyes as his mind seemed to drift back to those days. God Bless him and all who have served and sacrificed so much.
He said he hadn't been to church since he was 12 years old. I offered to take him sometime. He sheepishly said that he would like that. I'm thinking a dose of Newman Center mass would be good. He's also gone to the VA for assistance. Bob and I also tried to talk him into getting involved with a Veteran's association. He's in desperate need of a support group that truly understands him. The same can be said of us all.
We finished our evening prayer. I got his telephone number. I hope he answers.
I took a 10p shift. It was a really good night in many ways. The liquor store across the street closes at 10 so the foot traffic is lighter than earlier in the evening. I noticed the bus driver that went by several times offered us a friendly wave each pass. Bless his soul.
It was a cool night that I shared with our resident cowboy, Bob. As we began evening prayer we were approached by a familiar face. The young man we had helped on Day 2 returned to thank us for calling 911 for him. He did get his wallet and military ID back and the perps were apprehended (I always wanted to use the word "perps" in a story). Unfortunately he was also drunk yet again.
He explained that he'd known the people who robbed him from treatment and couldn't understand how they could do such a thing to anyone. He also admitted that unless he changed the direction of his own life, he may find himself doing the same sort of thing.
Eventually, he came around to talk more about what was troubling him. He had done two tours in Iraq and lost several friends including his best friend killed in action. He wears a bracelet in remembrance of his friend. Tears filled his eyes as his mind seemed to drift back to those days. God Bless him and all who have served and sacrificed so much.
He said he hadn't been to church since he was 12 years old. I offered to take him sometime. He sheepishly said that he would like that. I'm thinking a dose of Newman Center mass would be good. He's also gone to the VA for assistance. Bob and I also tried to talk him into getting involved with a Veteran's association. He's in desperate need of a support group that truly understands him. The same can be said of us all.
We finished our evening prayer. I got his telephone number. I hope he answers.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Day 3: 9/25/09
It was raining as Ben and I arrived to replace a trio of young people who apparently didn't care that it was raining. An unused umbrella sat on the sidewalk. Because of the rain, there was virtually no sidewalk traffic. Given the late hour the liquor store was already closed.
I've spent some time thinking about how I got involved in all of this to begin with.
Undoubtedly I was pro-life, but I was passively pro-life. I was not the type to protest or proselytize. If the topic came up I was happy to share my view. When I heard of this thing called 40 Days for Life I thought, this was something right up Christine's alley but certainly not mine.
Christine begged me to join in the vigil. I just couldn't bring myself to do it at first. But then things got desperate. They really needed men praying in the late evenings and overnight hours. Reluctantly I went. That first night was relatively uneventful, but the prayer was very fruitful. And so I went again..and again...and again. My life was touched and changed forever by the people we met (especially Scott and Shalynn). My heart broke as I heard stories of brokenness, abuse and despair. I felt hope as those lives seemed to be touched in some small way by God's mercy. We prayed the rosary. We chanted the Divine Mercy Chaplet. We prayed with people and for people.
Yes, we could have prayed anywhere for the unborn, the post-abortive women, the pregnant women with no apparent way out, for the men who brought their girl friends to this place and for those who work in this savage industry. We could pray anywhere, but there is little doubt that prayer in this place is a powerful thing. The neighborhood itself longs for prayer. It is an amazing thing to be a part of that outpouring of God's Grace. As we endured the gentle rain that night, I pray that Grace would pour down gently on the entire the neighborhood for the next 40 days.
I've spent some time thinking about how I got involved in all of this to begin with.
Undoubtedly I was pro-life, but I was passively pro-life. I was not the type to protest or proselytize. If the topic came up I was happy to share my view. When I heard of this thing called 40 Days for Life I thought, this was something right up Christine's alley but certainly not mine.
Christine begged me to join in the vigil. I just couldn't bring myself to do it at first. But then things got desperate. They really needed men praying in the late evenings and overnight hours. Reluctantly I went. That first night was relatively uneventful, but the prayer was very fruitful. And so I went again..and again...and again. My life was touched and changed forever by the people we met (especially Scott and Shalynn). My heart broke as I heard stories of brokenness, abuse and despair. I felt hope as those lives seemed to be touched in some small way by God's mercy. We prayed the rosary. We chanted the Divine Mercy Chaplet. We prayed with people and for people.
Yes, we could have prayed anywhere for the unborn, the post-abortive women, the pregnant women with no apparent way out, for the men who brought their girl friends to this place and for those who work in this savage industry. We could pray anywhere, but there is little doubt that prayer in this place is a powerful thing. The neighborhood itself longs for prayer. It is an amazing thing to be a part of that outpouring of God's Grace. As we endured the gentle rain that night, I pray that Grace would pour down gently on the entire the neighborhood for the next 40 days.
Day 2: 9/24/2009
Thursday began as a relatively quiet evening with Brendan. We talked and reflected. Our hearts in prayer. Visitors included a group from Teen Challenge. Despite an inability to participate in the vigil themselves, they offered to support us in prayer from where ever they might be. We also met a nice man who seemed to have quite a bit of life experience. He'd been in the military, did some missionary work in South America exposing and fighting corruption. He'd moved to Vegas for some time and had virtually nothing good to say about his time there. I hope he will join us in prayer some day.
We were relieved at 10p by Pastor Dean and waited a while for his partner to arrive. Shortly after there came a young man from across the street pleading for help. Surmising he had been injured we called 911. Apparently the young man had just gotten jumped and robbed in the alley (the long black train) up the street. The young man had just moved here the previous day. Desperate for companionship he went with a group of strangers who promised a party. With an empty wallet and likely a broken hand, his longing will go on. Pray for him. The police came just as we were leaving.
We were relieved at 10p by Pastor Dean and waited a while for his partner to arrive. Shortly after there came a young man from across the street pleading for help. Surmising he had been injured we called 911. Apparently the young man had just gotten jumped and robbed in the alley (the long black train) up the street. The young man had just moved here the previous day. Desperate for companionship he went with a group of strangers who promised a party. With an empty wallet and likely a broken hand, his longing will go on. Pray for him. The police came just as we were leaving.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Day 1: 9/23/09
Father Joel and I took the 9 pm to 11pm shift. We arrived at the building to relieve two young adults. Not long into our vigil, young man exited the liquor store across the street shouting at us, "Doesn't the bible say you're not to judge. That God doesn't judge." I thought of this statement as the night went on as you'll see.
A car pulled up across the street. Not so unusual. Just another patron of the liquor store. He's a pretty large man and he crossed the street in our direction. My first thought is, "This guy looks like an old AWA wrestling character. He came over, read our sign nodding his head. Then a kid came up beside me and asked if we really though fasting would end abortion. As a matter of fact we did. The kid was in a bad way and I could smell the liquor on him. He seemed really unhappy with his life. The kid was living in a bad neighborhood, had just gotten robbed and saw no hope in sight. Our giant friend talked about his family, how he overcame the bottle for 17 years, but now felt "free" to do whatever he liked. After a time the kid walked away. Yet we hope that despite our poor attempts to welcome him and offer hope, that God's grace will work on some small seed planted in his heart. His name is Charles. Pray for him. The giant also left shortly after and I suspect was not too pleased that the liquor store had closed while he talked to us.
Father and I continued to pray and reflect. Before long our giant friend, pulled up again. His name is Jim and he's from the range. He had just been robbed himself in what sounded like a failed attempt to obtain female companionship. We suggested that maybe he's going about it all the wrong way. He agreed. Then a homeless man walked by and Jim called him over. Jim gave him a cigarette as "Simon" explained he was staying out of "the long black train" or alleyways. Apparently his brother was recently jumped in an alley and remained in a coma. Vengeance was on Simon's heart as he walked away.
Our relief came at 11pm. As I reflect on this evening I'm struck by the contradiction. On one hand we have the characters who believe we stand on the sidewalk in judgement. On the other hand we have these troubled people who recognize truth and know that their lives stand in conflict with it. Yet, they come before us as if compelled to confess their hardships and trusting they will find mercy. They desire acceptance. Their sins are laid bare and they do not feel judged by us at all.
"Doesn't the bible say you're not to judge. That God doesn't judge." Isn't this the favorite quote of anyone in sin who doesn't want their sin recognized for what it is? And yet those same people stand in judgement of the worthiness of a human person to the point of death in the womb.
We are not on the sidewalk to stand in judgement of the individual persons, but we do recognize sin for what it is. We will pray against it. And we will pray for those unborn souls never given the chance to know our world. We will pray for the mother to be who feels lost or, at it's worst, is blinded to the reality what they're doing. We will pray for those who work in the clinic. And as important as all that, we stand as the face of Mercy for those on the street looking for acceptance.
A car pulled up across the street. Not so unusual. Just another patron of the liquor store. He's a pretty large man and he crossed the street in our direction. My first thought is, "This guy looks like an old AWA wrestling character. He came over, read our sign nodding his head. Then a kid came up beside me and asked if we really though fasting would end abortion. As a matter of fact we did. The kid was in a bad way and I could smell the liquor on him. He seemed really unhappy with his life. The kid was living in a bad neighborhood, had just gotten robbed and saw no hope in sight. Our giant friend talked about his family, how he overcame the bottle for 17 years, but now felt "free" to do whatever he liked. After a time the kid walked away. Yet we hope that despite our poor attempts to welcome him and offer hope, that God's grace will work on some small seed planted in his heart. His name is Charles. Pray for him. The giant also left shortly after and I suspect was not too pleased that the liquor store had closed while he talked to us.
Father and I continued to pray and reflect. Before long our giant friend, pulled up again. His name is Jim and he's from the range. He had just been robbed himself in what sounded like a failed attempt to obtain female companionship. We suggested that maybe he's going about it all the wrong way. He agreed. Then a homeless man walked by and Jim called him over. Jim gave him a cigarette as "Simon" explained he was staying out of "the long black train" or alleyways. Apparently his brother was recently jumped in an alley and remained in a coma. Vengeance was on Simon's heart as he walked away.
Our relief came at 11pm. As I reflect on this evening I'm struck by the contradiction. On one hand we have the characters who believe we stand on the sidewalk in judgement. On the other hand we have these troubled people who recognize truth and know that their lives stand in conflict with it. Yet, they come before us as if compelled to confess their hardships and trusting they will find mercy. They desire acceptance. Their sins are laid bare and they do not feel judged by us at all.
"Doesn't the bible say you're not to judge. That God doesn't judge." Isn't this the favorite quote of anyone in sin who doesn't want their sin recognized for what it is? And yet those same people stand in judgement of the worthiness of a human person to the point of death in the womb.
We are not on the sidewalk to stand in judgement of the individual persons, but we do recognize sin for what it is. We will pray against it. And we will pray for those unborn souls never given the chance to know our world. We will pray for the mother to be who feels lost or, at it's worst, is blinded to the reality what they're doing. We will pray for those who work in the clinic. And as important as all that, we stand as the face of Mercy for those on the street looking for acceptance.
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