Early on September 11, 2001 while at the gym working out on the elliptical trainer I saw the NBC live coverage of the second plane flying into the World Trade Center tower. Like many millions of Americans, I knew immediately that the utter horror we just witnessed would be followed by very unpleasant reactivity. In an instant my mind flooded with knowledge: thousands were dead--terrorists from the Middle East--retaliatory strikes--protracted war--all of it seemed inevitable. A flood of grief followed and then fear that my loved ones were not safe. By that afternoon the church I served had a sign on the lawn that read: "...Dwell Together in Peace..." a partial quote from our Sunday morning covenant.

By October there were calls for my resignation after I made a public statement against militarism, offered a critique of false patriotism and followed with a sermon urging pacifism. Soon I found allies in the community, we traveled to DC for a march in April 2002, we came back and started a weekly silent vigil in front of Tulsa's Federal Building--just me, John D., Janet and Mikey. Eventually others joined us and the movement built, other locations were tried, other actions ensued, films were shown, an organization founded: Tulsa Peace Fellowship.

When I moved to Lancaster Pennsylvania summer of 2003, I took up a place on the line with Women in Black and found myself utterly alone again as the singular pacifist preacher in a sea of "Peace Churches"--even the Mennonites and Amish and Brethren refused to speak up for peace. The world had become curioser and curioser.

Back in Tulsa, in the spring of 2004 I found that the peace movement continued to grow. Dozens stood on the corners and dozens more attended rallies and education programs. Hundreds signed up for an email list. I began to feel a though I was living in slow motion, seeing the impotent words on our signs, feeling the powerlessness that comes with a society's wholesale moral abandon, realizing that hundreds of names on an e-list were potential and nothing more until there was a way to mobilize them.

And yet... Oklahoma City has a Peace House and so does Crawford TX..goodness knows neither community is a hotbed of progressive thought. So why should Tulsa not have an institutional presence for peace?

Now we do. We signed a lease on an old Church of Christ building. The money will find its way to the coffers to keep the doors open of that I am ridiculously certain. If you're in the Tulsa area, let me know and I'll put you on our e-list (announcements only) and if you aren't--go start a peace house in your community. Peace ain't likely to break out unless we build strong movements. Let me know how it's going where you have planted your seeds of peace.