North Minneapolis parish restarts ‘Come Together’ as it remembers lives lost to violence

Under mostly sunny skies in light-jacket weather April 17, St. Bridget in north Minneapolis welcomed parishioners and guests who walked, prayed and remembered lives lost to violence.

The parish’s first “Come Together” event since the beginning of the pandemic focused on the trauma and grief brought by gun violence, domestic abuse, other trauma, and some altercations with law enforcement.

Announced just days before, the crowd wasn’t large — a dozen people — but their hearts and motivation appeared strong. Visitation Sister Karen Mohan said 12 participants was a significant number, reminiscent of disciples and a desire for love and peace.

“It’s not the numbers that count,” she said, “but the intentionality of peace seekers, peace keepers and Christ bearers that matters.”

The Visitation Sisters’ monastery is less than a mile from St. Bridget. “The value of the peace walk, for me, is in its title, ‘Come Together,’” she said.

Father Paul Jarvis, associate pastor of St. Bridget, planned the event with parishioner Bonnie Steele and Leo Guzman, a parishioner at the Basilica of St. Mary in Minneapolis.

The group walked for about 90 minutes on sidewalks throughout the neighborhood. Each of about 20 stops along the way honored the life of one or more individuals who had died from violence. Victims’ names, and date and cause of death were stated, and the group prayed for the victims and their families. Before moving on, those gathered repeated victims’ names.

Those names included ones familiar to people in Minnesota and beyond, including Daunte Wright, George Floyd and Philando Castile. Others included Tamir Rice, 12, who was shot and died while holding an airsoft pistol near a recreation center in Cleveland in 2014; Jamar Clark, 24, who was shot and died during an altercation with police in Minneapolis in 2015; and Jayden Redden, 8 months old and not the intended target when he was shot in his car seat in Minneapolis in 2016.

Praying for people’s needs

The first Come Together event was held Sept. 11, 2016, after the July 6, 2016, death of Castile in Falcon Heights. He was shot during a traffic stop when a St. Anthony police officer thought Castile was reaching for a gun. And on Sept. 8, 2016, stray bullets hit Sojourner Truth Academy, a K-8 charter school across the street from St. Bridget, and several cars in the church parking lot. Law enforcement believed the shootings were gang related.

At that first Come Together meeting, about 300 people — many from St. Bridget, New Creation Church and Zion Baptist Church — gathered at St. Bridget. The message was about peace, Steele said, and served as an opportunity for people to share their personal stories about the violence they had experienced.

Steele, 64, now retired, served as director of pastoral ministry at St. Joseph the Worker in Maple Grove.

“The whole premise of Come Together is to create a sacred and safe place for people to bring their stories,” Steele said. “We wanted to create that space of singing songs, of prayer and storytelling and sharing a meal together and then walking in the community like we did (April 17).”

Steele recalled from that first event, “As we saw neighbors, we would introduce ourselves and say we’re from St. Bridget’s, and this is Father Paul from St. Bridget’s, and we’re here because we’d like to know how we can serve you. ‘Can we pray for you? Is there anything that you need prayer for today?’ And people responded, they shared their hearts with us and asked for prayer,” she said.

With that day’s success, the parish planned future events that included prayer, Scripture, music, reflections, conversations and walking through neighborhoods to be present in the community. Beyond St. Bridget, Come Together events were held at locations including Our Lady of Grace in Edina, the Basilica of St. Mary in Minneapolis, the east side of St. Paul, the state Capitol and the Shiloh Temple on West Broadway in Minneapolis.

Universal call for love, grace

“There may be times when we think we have the answers and are going to help someone else, when it is we ourselves that are in need as well,” Steele said. “And as we hear stories of others, there are lessons; there is love and grace for us, too.”

As people come to understand just how much grace and forgiveness is needed, they can be present with others who need that same grace and forgiveness, Steele said.

“And that’s what Come Together is at its essence,” she said. “It isn’t about fixing someone else. No, we are suffering together.”

It isn’t just one community, such as north Minneapolis, she said. “We are all part of the community. We all need each other.”

Inspired by the Stations of the Cross, Guzman said the April 17 walk and prayer related to having a God who knows how people suffer. “He knows how to suffer,” Guzman said. “He suffered. So, we commemorate and remember the lives of those who also suffered and will offer a prayer for them and offer incense.”

Guzman swung an incense burner at each stop on the route.

Wanting to create peace is fundamental, he said. Before starting the walk, Guzman, who is Hispanic, recalled his father telling him as he was learning to drive — “before we even left the driveway” — that if he was ever stopped by the police, to keep his hands on the steering wheel and not make any sudden movements.

And do not argue with the officer. “It wasn’t until I was way into adulthood that I realized that not everybody gets the same speech,” Guzman said. “Not everybody has to be cautioned like that.” Guzman was born in Chicago and his family moved to Kentucky when he was 9. He said he knew well throughout his life that there are two separate rules regarding policing.

Steele, born to a Black father and Indigenous mother, mentioned prejudicial actions against her son during college. Police stopped him several times while driving when he had done nothing wrong, she said. Her son received a scholarship to a dual-master’s degree program in Michigan. Steele said she worries for his safety and being far away from his family if he should have an encounter with law enforcement.

As the group completed one stop next to a cemetery, a funeral procession passed by. Instinctively, everyone stood silently at attention as they faced the cars and crossed their hearts until the last car passed.

Good neighbors

Continuing their walk, they talked with neighbors doing yard work, and the neighbors seemed to appreciate what the group was about, Sister Karen said. As they walked along Dowling Avenue, a few drivers honked their horns in solidarity.

Father Jarvis said he doesn’t want people to think that north Minneapolis confirms a lot of stereotypes and prejudices that some people have. When he was first assigned to a Twin Cities parish, headlines indicated “crime going on every second in north Minneapolis,” he said. “You had some challenges,” he said, “but I don’t know of any better neighbors. If you’re in need of something, somebody will stop and help you for sure.”

“I think you find in a community like this, particularly a community where people are marginalized, there is a sense that we are in this together, and if you need help, I’m going to help you,” Steele said. “If you need food, I’m going to help you with that. If you need clothing, whatever I have, I’m going to share with you.”

Wendy Caduff, a parishioner at the Basilica of St. Mary in Minneapolis, said she participated in the prayer walk because she was feeling so much pain over what’s been happening in the Twin Cities. “I’m feeling that there’s so much trauma going on, especially in the Black community. I wanted to do something to pray and be in solidarity with others who want to amplify Black voices — a way to be in solidarity with our sisters and brothers who are BIPOC (Black, Indigenous and people of color) and to stand in solidarity with the pain that’s been happening in the Black community. It’s unbearable.”

Caduff’s husband, Ben, the young adult and marriage ministry coordinator at the Basilica, carried a tall wooden cross from stop to stop as the group processed through the neighborhood. “We just had a young adult morning of reflection at the Basilica, and I thought, ‘What are we gonna do?’ And we were collectively thinking about how are we called to be peacemakers and own our faith at this particular time in this particular place in the midst of all this violence.”

Ben said he hopes that people of faith can be a presence and voice for peace in the midst of the violence. “Being here is one way to do it,” he said, “because just being able to have intentional space for peace is really important, and this is one of those spaces.”

Skip North, a parishioner of Our Lady of Grace in Edina, said he received an email about the event two days before and thought he should participate. North said he’s been on the sidelines on the issue of violence. “For me, it was a spectator experience,” he said. “Then this email came from Father Jarvis and I thought to myself, based on what my values are, personally getting involved in the quest for peace through prayer makes a lot of sense.”

North said what he is hoping for, over a period of time, is that values emerge that are consistent with his brand of Christianity — the Catholic Church. “I happen to believe to the core that God’s in charge,” he said, and that coming to the Saturday event was something he should do. “I feel like the email I got from Father Jarvis was a tap on the shoulder.”

He said he did not have a lot of experience with events like Come Together, but was taken with the prayer intentions and circumstances involved. Praying for people who died and recalling the way they died made sense, he said.

Wendy Caduff added that she and her husband, who are white, are raising a biracial son, age 7, and she fears what’s in store for him as he grows up. “But we have a lot of sadness and grief for what’s going on here today. And it just needs to stop.”

Wendy said tears came as she walked with the group. “You hear the names and ages, and the deaths that have happened in the last couple of years, people being killed by gunshots or by the police. It’s very hard.”

She said she will work for justice when she can and in circles of influence where she can. She said Saturday’s event was healing. “It just felt good and right,” she said.