Invocation
Let this be a place of peace.
Let silence heal our spirits.
Let sharing connect us
Let friendship warm us
Let music lift us to a higher place
And let beauty inspire us.
Welcome each and every one of you,
to a circle of memory and hope.
We are brought into this circle by the belief
that love is the most powerful force on earth,
By the belief that it is remembering that makes us human
By the belief that suffering, transformed into struggle,
has the power to bring about justice.
By the belief that remaining silent
in the presence of violence is never an option
By the belief that our actions can make a difference
And by the certain belief that death does not have the final word.
During our time together today,
we will circle through many stories and many different emotions.
Some will speak and others keep silent vigil
with their own thoughts and memories.
We will acknowledge the loss of so many
bright and beautiful women and men in acts of violence.
We must acknowledge this day that those who stand here
are joined by a connection that none of us ever wished to have
– that our lives were one day changed forever by violence beyond our control.
Yet from that day forward, although much was taken,
we stand here today as a testament to what remains,
even when the unthinkable has occurred.
So I invite each of you, during the singing of our first song,
to reflect on what was given, what remains,
what has grown and what lives on.
Perhaps it is courage or resolve in your own heart.
Perhaps it is new life in children or grandchildren.
Perhaps it is friendships forged in the fire of grief and loss.
Perhaps it is justice making and fierce determination
to save even one family the losses you have known.
Perhaps it is simply returning and redeeming
the life and joy of the one you lost,
Finally being able to give thanks for gifts given
even in the face of all that was taken.
Perhaps it is strength, beauty, memory,
kindness, support, inspiration, or action.
During the singing of “You Raise Me Up,” (or during the singing or playing of whatever music or hymn feels best for you) I would invite each of you to reflect
on what it is that has arisen within you and among you that lives on…
(after the music)
… may we hold close to our hearts this day and always, all that we have learned,
all that has lifted us up and all that remains to bless us.
Reflections
Thank you for a beautiful rendering of an inspirational song and thank you everyone for coming. We recognize that simply being here will likely bring a flood of emotions for many and also recognize that others have not been able to be here or may have chosen not to. Grief and remembrance are among the most personal and private of emotions and there is no one way to find your way through their sometimes bewildering landscape. For some it is a journey of solitude and for others a gathering that includes many. Each has deep meaning, whether you are here today or with us in Spirit.
Unfortunately, acts of human violence cut across all boundaries, are known in all cultures and have taken place throughout human history. They affect all of us, bruising our lives and eroding our sense of safety, security and even goodness. And although those who have suffered are disproportionately women and children, we must acknowledge that men and boys have also been the victims of a culture that does not take these crimes seriously enough.
Therefore this day, I gather into the circle not only the precious names of your own loved ones, but also all those (named and unnamed) who have suffered as a result of violence, be they daughters or sons, sisters or brothers, parents, spouses, partners, grandchildren, grandparents, extended family or friends.
There is indeed a host of witnesses before us now.
When we gathered to plan this service, many purposes were before us and I want to touch on each of them briefly. There will also be others who speak and a time for anyone who wishes to share their thoughts with us. Finally, we will walk among the stone paths of this garden in a ritual that has come to be known as “Roses Among the Stones.”
In this ceremony, we have gathered in previous years to give voice to our solidarity in the face of violence against women. And we have covered the hard stones of the paths leading into this garden with the beauty of roses strewn along the path – to show that beauty may arise, even among the harshest of circumstances. After our speakers have finished, I invite you to take a basket of the rose petals gathered here and lay them among the stones. Incredibly, some of them go back almost 20 years and others 10 or 15, 3 or 5. There are fresh petals too. All are given and shared this day in honour of those whose lives we remember.
The first thing we want to acknowledge is the depth of both grief and its sisters, love and resilience. When asked what helps, a friend of mine who has known more loss than any human should have to experience, said to me; “Well, nothing helps, and everything helps.”
On a simple human level, there is nothing that can ever make what happened that gathers us into this circle OK. Each of us is irreplaceable and precious and what was taken cannot be given back.
And yet, it is also true that every act of human kindness that follows lightens the unbearable burden of grief ever so slightly. Every time someone asked “How are you really?” and wasn’t afraid to stay around for the answer “Do you really want to know? Then you’d better pull up a chair and stay awhile” – they carried a piece of the garment of grief.
So many professionals – police or detectives, people in the justice system, ordinary citizens who cared and came and petitioned and signed – each did their part to share the burden and inexplicably, lighten it. The family and friends who gathered, who fed and nourished, who listened and cared, who stood in solidarity with those who acted – each carried a share, and somehow, we stand here today, still alive, able to remember with joy as well as sorrow, able to celebrate victories as well as acknowledge the times we felt defeated.
Someone once said, at times of great trial “You discover who your true friends are and what they are made of.” So many of the lifelong friendships held in this group were forged in the fire of tragedy. So we give thanks for everything and everyone that helped, for after all, “They are all our children.”
And now, we make space in our ceremony to say their names, spoken aloud or in the silence of our hearts. May we speak the names of those we love, and the names of all who helped…
Names are spoken and memories and reflections shared
Let us acknowledge that good can arise in response to that which has been its absence; that darkness can be a place where new life may germinate and grow. Out of the deaths of so many has come a movement to make the world safer. We cannot count how many may have been saved and how much violence may have been prevented by actions undertaken in their names. This redeems the meaning of their deaths and helps restore meaning to their far too short lives.
The world is a better place because they lived – in all the gifts brought to life in them – and yet it is also a better place because of what came after they walked this earth. We cannot say that tragedy is required for us to understand life’s preciousness, but when it occurs, and we ask the meaning-making question “What now?” then our lives become the answer that makes sense of their loss. Life and love are redeemed every day that we care, that we go on, that we turn toward the Good.
Finally, let us acknowledge the way grief intersects with the passage of time.
Some of your losses go back many years and others are still heartbreakingly fresh. Grief has its own timetable and will not fit into others’ easy notions of what is or should be at any given moment. Time does not cause us to forget or to dull the edges of our grief, but rather to transform it into something that we live alongside – a colour that is added to the painting of our life that will always be there.
Time shows us that life always turns toward life, and although we may visit the ‘valley of despair,’ it is not a place we can live abundantly; no-one can. That is just the way of the world; we are made for joy and for possibility, for new life and for holding tightly as well as letting go. Each one finds their own balance, but it is not a betrayal of spirit to laugh again, to accept and to go on in thanksgiving. So we give thanks for the passing of time as it shows us new ways to remember and celebrate.
For all these, for those here and unable to be present, for those who helped, even when we could not be helped, for the courage of action, for changes made and to be made, for the circle of friendship and family that holds each other through all we are given, for the meaning redeemed from tragedy, for the grace of time passed and healing that has come, for all this, we give thanks. Amen.
Blessing and Benediction
As we return to the world, let us give thanks
for the beauty here named and celebrated,
for the lives given and love shared, for the joys remembered,
for the hope offered and support given, for actions taken
and a world changed with our love.
Most of all, let us give thanks for the great gift of a Love stronger than death
in which all is healed and made holy, redeemed and made whole.
Let us go forward in memory and hope in honour of the Love
That has held us and will hold us, in all our days.
Amen.