At its core however, COVID-19 underscores more than ever that we are a world community that is profoundly connected across race, religion, gender, geography and nationality. The paradox at the heart of this crisis is that we are asked to help one another by not congregating together. In this unique moment, the Fellowship of Reconciliation (FOR-USA) offers up the best alternative we know to encourage hope and solidarity…prayer, inviting persons from all faith traditions or none, the whole world over, to share words of encouragement, prayerful words that remind us that we belong to one another. Share your prayers with us: PRAYERS@FORUSA.ORG

When I was a boy, I loved autumn days when the leaves would fall and float gently down as I ran to catch as many as I could before they touched the ground. I loved to gather the fallen leaves in piles upon piles and jump into them with reckless abandon. I felt so alive and free. I would simply lie there in the leaves, at peace, and stare up at the immensity of the sky, surrounded by the relentless love and sacred beauty of the trees. Maybe today I would call this childhood relentless love and beauty of the trees, nature, and the fall pure grace or gift, or simply sacred memory. I would say now too that I came to know then that love persists, that something bigger than me wants me to be free. This kairos moment, this memory remains with me. It comforts me somehow. It reminds me of Gandhi’s relentless faith in the power of love, truth, and grace. He says, When I despair, I remember that all through history the ways of truth and love have always won. There have been tyrants, and murderers, and for a time they can seem invincible, but in the end they always fall. Think of it–always. – Gandhi I also remember riding in a car with my family when I was a boy, maybe eleven or twelve. My parents were arguing as they often did, mostly about finances. I found myself in my mind’s eye resting in the leaves, feeling relentlessly free; and then I found myself reminding my parents of the words of scripture read earlier that day at church: Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? Matthew 6:25-27 As I grow older, I find that the grace and comfort of the leaves and the trees, as well as my parents’ worry about finances and life’s struggles, continue to invite resting in relentless love. When I find myself falling prey to fear or sadness, despair or worry, I call to mind Gandhi’s truth, and love’s relentless pursuit. I look deeply to see, with Thich Nhat Hanh, that we inter-be. We are connected. We are sisters and brothers. Thus, harm to you results in harm to me, harm to the leaves and trees results in harm to us moving together toward that which would set us free. I sit still, breathe in, breathe out, and relentlessly recite the mantra that love, that still small voice within, speaks to me: Do not worry, do not be afraid, love is relentless, it is for love you are made. How will you relentlessly love today? How will you allow yourself to be relentlessly loved?

“These times are those for which our profession was designed. We have an ethical obligation to act and to do so in political and social arenas. It is not enough to work with those who are oppressed by regimes like Trump’s. We are expected to engage in social action aimed at changing the political structure” (Hayes, Karpman & Miller, 2016). In the spirit of Hayes, Karpman, & Miller, as well as hooks (2003;1994) and Freire (2000; 1987; 1973; 1970), I assert that liberatory education properly understood is a form of social action, and possesses a healing power, a power that has the potential to turn enemies into friends, a power that seeks symmetry in our means and our ends, a power that helps mend broken hearts and fractured homes. Social work social justice education is, and must be, a labor of love and liberation. It personifies what civil rights pioneer, congressman, and activist John Lewis, and Vietnamese Zen Master and social justice activist and educator Thich Nhat Hanh refer to as love in action. In the spirit of Gandhi’s Talisman, love in action looks to the least and asks if what we do will cause them harm or bring them freedom. Love in action also invites renewal. As bell hooks (1994) asserts, “all of us in the academy and in the culture as a whole are called to renew our minds if we are to transform educational institutions – and society – so that the way we live, teach, and work can reflect our joy in cultural diversity, our passion for justice, and our love of freedom” (p. 34). Love in action must live in the classroom as well as the streets. Over the years, I have found that students are hungry for a more holistic, integrated, and engaged social justice pedagogy. Arguably, the social work profession has been absent, or at the very least remiss, with respect to its pedagogical commitment to social justice, failing to adequately integrate our Code’s ethical mandate (NASW, 2008; IFSW, 2012) into the curriculum, and thus failing to adequately prepare social workers with respect to social justice practice (Sayre & Sar, 2015; Hodge, 2010). Professor Nicotera’s Circle of Insight Student voices, ethical mandates, research recommendations, and the Circle of Insight call us to recognize that the moment is ripe for renewal and revisioning of social justice social work pedagogy. This call echoes the clarion call of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. – the call to “rededicate ourselves to the long and bitter, but beautiful, struggle for a new world” (King, 1967). Research has shown that despite the complications and concerns inherent in defining and delivering social justice classes, they do make a difference. As Krings, Austic, Gutierrez & Dirksen (2015) found, “participation in social justice education courses is associated with increases in both student confidence in and commitment toward political participation, civic engagement, and multicultural activism” (p. 414). Arguably, a lack of political participation, civic engagement, and multicultural activism has contributed to our current divisive, discriminatory, and oppressive political and social climate. We must do better. The social work profession is, in this difficult and exigent moment, being called to the “the fierce urgency of now” of which Dr. King so prophetically spoke at Riverside Church in New York City, one year to the day before his death. There he preached, “We are now faced with the fact that tomorrow is today. We are confronted with the fierce urgency of now…. This is no time for apathy or complacency. This is a time for vigorous and positive action” (King, 1967), action rooted in love, and leading us to liberation. “Through the values and skills of our profession, and under its ethical mandate, we have the capacity to contribute to dialogue versus despair and hope rather than fear and anger” (Hayes, Karpman & Miller, 2016). This dialogue and hope, this fierce urgency in action, can and must shine as a light in the shadows of the dimly lit classroom and the darkest street corner. The universe bends toward justice, and we must bend with it, give light, and rise up in radical revolution, a revolution in values and love in action that educates us not only to welcome and comfort the stranger, the immigrant, our sisters and our brothers in need, but also to change the structures and systems which would have us do otherwise.

Words of Wisdom I had the privilege of living and working with Mother Teresa and her community in Calcutta, India. My mother recently passed. There is nothing more powerful than the love of a mother for her child. Mom and Mother Teresa loved more in deed than word. Mom and Mother Teresa did small things with great love. Their love continues. Their love marches on. Their love beckons us to march on in love. Silence Use these words to enter into silent reflection. You may also want to reflect in writing in a journal. Mom shared with me Rumi’s words by way of invitation to move beyond judgment, to see that we need each other. We belong to each other, and as we look deeply and understand we are one, “even the phrase ‘each other’ doesn’t make any sense.” Story As a young child, I was terrified. How am I going to get to school? I’ll never find the way; and if I do, how will I find my way home? I was five years old, excited but anxious about starting kindergarten. I would wake up with nightmares about getting lost on the walk to and from school. It was only 6 blocks or so from our house, but with two turns, it seemed daunting. Mom walked me to school that first day, and met me after school to walk me home. The second day, she walked me 5 of the six blocks and said she’d meet me in the same place after school. The third day it was two blocks and one turn around the corner away. The fourth day, four blocks. The fifth day, the end of the first week, five blocks, two turns. The second week I proudly told mom that I could walk to school on my own and no longer needed her help. It was only years later that I realized what mom had been doing – what she was modeling for me, teaching me – it had something to do with courage, care, and most of all, faith. She was teaching me to trust. Dr. King put it this way, “Faith is taking the first step when you can’t see the whole staircase.” Song I joined Alicia Keys at the Women’s March in Washington in solidarity with millions of others who marched globally to lift up love, respect, and dignity, especially for those on the margins. My mom’s love was present there; it led and inspired me there. Mom’s love marches on. I can’t keep quiet. Feet on the ground. Not backin’ down. We rise. Eyes on the prize. Love marches on. Mom’s love marches on.