In the Jail Last Night

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We're not allowed to take photographs in the jail.

Texas Bluebonnets

So I'm using the Dallas spring flowers instead -- because something like spring happened in the Dallas County Jail last night.

A shake-down had occurred earlier in the day because one of the women had taken a pen. That means that everyone's possessions and bodies are searched. Everything is thrown away that isn't standard issue. Photographs of family, make-up, artwork, creative writing, journaling. All gone.

***

Tulips from the Dallas Arboretum

What's left of you when everything is gone? When you don't see daylight? 

And the only picture of what's happening in the world outside is from your memory?

Daffodils

After we'd all danced an invigorating series of "Saturday Night Fever" (looking ever so much like John Travolta), Cynthia Wilson's "Woke Up Dis Mornin' with My Mind Staid on Jesus," and "Jai Ho" from "Slumdog Millionaire," we formed a circle of chairs.

I introduced the Prayer of St. Patrick, saying that each morning I recite this several times in my meditation.

A form of magnolia

I asked them to imagine "light of sun, radiance of moon, splendor of fire, speed of lightening" as we brought our hands to the namasté position at our hearts. ("The Christ in me loves the Christ in you.")

I spoke them through the prayer before we put on the singing of Sean Davy's setting.

I arise today, through the strength of heaven...

Christ beneath me. Christ above me.

Christ on my right...

I stopped breathing for a split second because I saw what was on my right. It was Angela (not her real name) just where I'd motioned Christ to be.

"Christ on my left..." And there was Barabara on my left. That's where I looked when I looked for Christ.

I don't know what each person is in jail for as they wait their sentence. Prostitution? Drug dealing? Who knows. But it was those faces that I looked into when I looked for Christ.

Tulips

It is Holy Week 2012. Pain and injury continue to surround our cities and homes and hearts. It hasn't stopped in these 2,000 years. Is the death of the One who walked among us useless?

When I saw the faces of these women tune into St. Patrick's ancient prayer, I knew that the death wasn't useless. When I felt my own heart open and my ego humbled. When I saw my dancer friends scurry around trying to remember the choreography that we danced so many years ago to "Lord of the Dance." And witnessed them dancing it beautifully. And when I saw the tenderness that had taken over so many of the women's bodies and faces as they watched and listened. I knew that the death of the Resurrected One was not in vain. He goes before us. He carries our pain. He holds our memory.

Dogwood, an ancient sign of the cross

Something like spring happened in the jail last night.

***

I arise today, through the strength of heaven.

Light of sun, radiance of moon.

Splendor of fire, speed of lightening.

Swiftness of wind, depth of the sea.

Stability of earth, firmness of rock.

I arise today, through God's strength to pilot me.

God's eye to look before me, God's wisdom to guide me.

God's way to lie before me, God's shield to protect me

From all who shall wish me ill, afar and a-near,

Alone or in a multitude.

Against every cruel, merciless power that may oppose my body and my soul.

Christ with me.

Christ before me. Christ behind me.

Christ in me.

Christ beneath me. Christ above me.

Christ on my right. Christ on my left.

Christ when I lie down. Christ when I sit down. 

Christ when I rise. Christ to shield me.

Christ in the heart of everyone who thinks of me.

Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me.

I arise today.

For a beautifully sung rendition of this, click on http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iiXM5X34B0Q

Please ignore the gory, Mel Gibson like slides half way through.