An unholy spirit cries out in the synagogue where Jesus preaches in Sunday’s gospel. In North Minneapolis people experience an unholy spirit of violence. Bonnie Steele is helping the community heal and find hope.
Bonnie finished writing a theology paper and stood looking out her front window, still thinking. Her daughters, Nikki and Ashley, interrupted as they headed out the door. “We’ll be back soon. We’re going to visit Grams.”
As Bonnie waited for her paper to print, she heard the familiar whine of the overdrive of a police cruiser. A car came into view, the passenger window down; a man leaned out with a rifle, shooting at a police cruiser in hot pursuit, all in the direction her daughters had gone.
Time slowed as the man fired, “Boom, boom, boom.” Bonnie’s ears rang with each blast. She was frozen to the floor unable to make a sound, knowing her daughters were in the line of fire.
The girls were safe, but like many in their neighborhood, Bonnie experienced sheer terror in that moment. Unable to ensure her children’s safety, Bonnie and her husband made a heart-wrenching decision to move. “If they killed my children, what would I have? What would I have?” Bonnie says.
Then a police officer’s shooting of a young African American man named Philando Castile engendered anger, frustration, and fear in the African American community in the Twin Cities.
Mr. Castile was dearly loved by his family, his fiancé, and her preschool-age daughter. He supervised the cafeteria at the J. J. Hill Montessori School in St. Paul, a public school. Students knew and liked him, and he knew and cared for them. Black Lives Matter and other groups began organizing protests
Bonnie’s pastor, Father Paul Jarvis, asked her what St. Bridget’s could do in response to the killing of Mr. Castile. How could a faith community respond? How could we bring our faith to bear?
“Open up the church and invite the community to come in,” Bonnie said. “People need a place to bring their fear and trauma, their pain and anger. It’s not only the shooting but the day-to-day violence they are experiencing, children lying on the floor dodging bullets that come through their windows, children and adults afraid of random drive-by shootings. We can pray.”
With this Come Together was born, a gathering to bring neighbors together to pray, share faith, and share their stories of how violence is impacting them. Father Jarvis invited other local pastors. Three hundred people came to the first service.
“I knew how alone I felt,” says Bonnie. “Where do I bring my frustration, my fear for my children and myself, my sense of hopelessness and my sense of isolation? Come Together creates a sacred, safe space where neighbors can understand one another and appreciate our commonality as human beings that bear a divine image.”
Bonnie and Father Paul take part in a Come Together service once a month in various hosting churches. Each service ends with participants walking in the neighborhood to sing and reach out to people they see along the way. “Our presence says that we see them and they matter to us,” says Bonnie. “In every gathering people find hope.”
- What unholy spirits do you hear threatening? How might your faith community respond?