Pastor’s Note: Today is the National Shutdown – NO WORK. NO SCHOOL. NO SHOPPING. STOP FUNDING ICE – to protest the federal government’s misdeeds in Minneapolis.
Amidst all the news, or perhaps its own internal difficulties, this National Shutdown hasn’t gotten much attention or publicity. I’m trying to watch for these things, and I only found out when Oscar saw it online yesterday. My first response was, “No, that was in Minneapolis last Friday.” I was out of date; Oscar was right.
Our Fear Not today comes from someone’s reflection on last Friday’s boycott in Minneapolis. Businesses and stores were closed. People didn’t go to work. But they came out strong to protest. I love the palpable hope our witness (below) found in the thousands showing up, marching in such frigid weather. We need to be looking out deliberately for “we the people” power / hope right now…
Unfortunately, I saved their witness, but not the name of its author. I am guessing it is someone I know, and I figured I’d remember! I don’t. So with that apology, I’m invoking a literary device and suggesting “it’s an everyman / everywoman / every person testimony,” an experience that could come from any or many of the people there last Friday. (And if anyone recognizes it, help me with the author!)
One last thing: I have been heartened by your responses to this week’s Fear Nots. I have heard from folks I haven’t talked to in years, and some I see each week. Please feel encouraged to write back. May our exchanges be ways we stick together / support one another. (Are there other ways you can be intentionally connective / supportive in these awful times?)
In one response, one of you asked if I knew about the desecration of the stories of the enslaved people at the Presdent’s House on Independence Mall. He was worried that insult has not gotten as much press as its due (like this National Shutdown!). I assured him the story of Trump’s defacing Philly’s first President’s House has gotten some legs and is being covered nationally. In part because of the pointed protest responses the public keeps making happen there. Keep up the good work!
One Person’s (… or Many People’s) Experience
Proud.
And hopeful—for the first time in a long time.
Minneapolis, by the thousands, left home, work, and school to trudge together in -7 degree weather. This picture was taken in the skyway (a series of elevated tunnels that connect our buildings downtown).
I’d just sat down in a cement hallway to unzip my boots and check on my toes—once you’ve seen a picture of frostbite, it sticks with you. A passing stranger asked if I needed handwarmers. “No thanks, all set—opening a new pack now.” I joined in a little impromptu shaker ensemble, as folks around me shook their handwarmers to activate them before shoving them into socks, gloves, or adhere them to their body. It was a little like the warming house at skating rink—hat hair and red faces—except it was also a coordinated public demonstration to protest the violence and lawlessness of a federal agency.
With my boots back on, I joined a gaggle of people at a window down the hall. The procession passed beneath our feet. All of us marveled at how many we were.
Many signs said ICE OUT. Some had Bible verses. Some taunted Trump. A huge flag just said #Liam.
I’d made my sign (RESIST) on the back of a collapsed box of beer. The brewery provided the box for that very purpose—they’d closed their taproom for the day, but turned the space into a donation site for food and household products. While I drew my sign, a steady stream of people dropped off groceries. Some joined a line already sorting cans and bottles, others carried donations to the cars outside waiting to deliver them to families too afraid to leave their homes.
Hundreds of businesses closed today—museums, markets, restaurants. Residents here sign up to patrol their neighborhoods and use whistles to announce an ICE sighting.
While it’s not a skill you hope a community has to develop…we’re fucking *good* at this stuff. After George Floyd’s murder, people learned how to organize pop-up food pantries; how to set up a Signal chat for the block; how to find out who needs what and who might provide it.
I don’t know what sort of coverage today’s march will get in the press. But this afternoon, our team was looking formidable. I bet on us.
Let us thank and give thanks for those tens of thousands of people who braved the cold… and the fear and danger. Last night in prayer group, one of us said, “I think I actually see signs of hope.” Some agreed. Others were noticeably silent. But signs of hope are important. Let’s keep looking for them desperately…
In faith and courage,
Michael 
