The Streets of Minneapolis

I have been listening to Bruce Springsteen’s song, feeling the anger. I’m grateful that he’s putting it out there. I can see it in his face, hear it in his voice. Should I be out there on the streets? I’d heard the call for clergy to come Minnesota to bear witness. I’m still a Zen Buddhist priest although rarely play the role. It’s been years since I’ve donned my robes. I tell myself I’m too old for the streets. Should I have gone? Cancelled my doctors’ appointments? Can I still go?

I can make this a complicated issue. The country is divided. That may be one of the few things that we agree on. We need to come together to heal. Over the years, I’ve come to embrace the understanding that peacemaking is bringing sides together rather than taking sides. Peacemaking and advocacy are very different activities. I can’t bring people together if I’m at the barricades. We have to talk to each other. We have to find a way to heal. This was a shift for me. For much of my life, I was all about standing up on the side of justice. I trusted my judgment, my instinct, to always steer me to the right side.

As I’ve gotten older, the world has become more complicated. We are divided. We see things differently. If we’re to heal, we must find ways to hear each other, not on the level of political debate and certainly not on the level of televised talking heads. We need to hear the life experiences which move our neighbors to see the world so differently. We need to share the experiences which shape us, listening and speaking from the heart. Peacemaking now seems to be about creating the containers in which that dialogue takes place.

But life is complicated. I’m listening to The Streets of Minneapolis. The official violence against peaceful protestors has to stop. Period. I spent six years working in a family court clinic. I saw a lot of “domestic violence cases.” I listened to the stories. There was never only one side. The family crisis was always complicated. Allocating blame was never fruitful. But the family violence had to stop.

Americans have very different views of the “immigration problem.” We won’t find a way of working with it without listening to each other, but the police violence against peaceful protestors has to stop.

Should I go to Minneapolis? Should I be out there on the street, bearing witness? Is my age only an excuse? I don’t know. I have always been afraid of violence. But I am more frightened of many things now. I’m less confident in my bounce-back. If I get knocked down, how quickly will I get up?

Look at all my doubts. I’m learning to cherish them too. My doubts are my reminder that I don’t know, that my opinions are only my opinions. I’m sure that we need to talk to each other, but I don’t know for sure that it will help, can’t know. We’ll have to talk to find out. I’m certain that the police violence has to stop. But can I be sure of even that? Respecting our doubts, cherishing our doubts, we move forward.