The World in Procession

It is Holy Week. Throughout the world people are in processions. Some are participating in religious traditions; some are marching for their lives. Some begin in Palm Sunday joy and end in Good Friday grief; others begin in terror and grief and end in, if not joy, then at least safety and welcome. Still others cannot join any kind of procession and just keep watch and wait.

The painting above called “The Procession” by artist, John August Swanson, (now housed in the Vatican Museum) awes with its abundance of diversity, with its brilliant color and solemn pageantry, and with its inherent promises:

• No one who marches or walks or stumbles or falls or waits does so alone.
• We all walk or wait in sacred spaces.
• We are all transformed by the journey.

Here is how the artist, himself, reflects on his recently created serigraph print of the painting:

The journey or procession takes us out of our ordinary lives to experience a transcendental or universal connection. The outward walk reflects an inner journey. We have taken the steps to move to another space in the journey of our lives. I see in the walking meditations led by Thich Nhat Hanh, the Buddhist monk and global peacemaker, a profound example of a true procession. Each step for him is a gesture and a hopeful prayer for peace.

Inspired by the mandalas in the Buddhist traditions which inspire “spiritual centering”, he purposely circled his myriad images around a quieter center:

This picture gives us a connection, setting us apart from the extraneous happenings and distractions that surround our lives. It helps to focus our attention. It can provide us with the opportunity to stand back and review each of the scenes in ways that help us engage in contemplation and calm reflection on our complex lives. It becomes a metaphor for our own experiences.

Even more significantly, however, he wanted us to see how processions engender in us a more profound understanding of more than just our own lives. Processions are public, witnessed – perhaps even derided or jeered – but also joined. As we walk with others, we deepen our connections and open ourselves and the world to transformation together:

We, in our communities of faith, are a procession of stories, stories both unique and shared, stories connected to those who have gone before us and those who will come after us. We gather in celebration of, and respect for, each person’s story and in expectation and awe of the story we are becoming together.

Yet his vision does not end there. Swanson goes on to present another significance aspect of processions: their dramatic presentation of whatever the world needs to see and remember at this particular moment. To clarify this point, he quotes renown historian, Howard Zinn:

What we choose to emphasize in this [our] complex history will determine our lives. If we see only the worst, it destroys our capacity to do something. If we remember those times and places…where people have behaved magnificently, this gives us the energy to act…  And if we do act, in however small a way, we don’t have to wait for some grand utopian future. The future in an infinite succession of presents, and to live now as we think human beings should live, in defiance of all that is bad around us, is itself a marvelous victory.

Finally, in his reasons for encouraging people to join processions, Swanson affirms what I often try to stress in reiterating why we need women and other-gendered as Church leaders and ordained priests:

We are invited to join together in the procession to help each other see in ways we have never seen before, to help each other see again what we have forgotten, to see something familiar in a new way, in a new light, from a different perspective. The great procession is a celebration of life and faith where the rich and poor march in unison; the strong carry the weak, and the weak humble the proud; those who know the dance teach those who are just learning; and a child lifts high the banner for all to follow in joy, in peace, in love.

May your procession to Easter, in whatever form it takes, be truly blessed.