National Day of Prayer
Today is the National Day of Prayer. And I’ll be honest: this year, prayer feels different.
Because we are not praying in a country at peace with itself.
We are praying in a country where voting rights are under attack, where courts are making decisions that could weaken the voice and power of Black communities, Brown communities, poor communities, and working people.
We are praying in a country where people are tired. Tired of high bills. Tired of political games. Tired of being told to be patient while their neighborhoods flood, their children breathe polluted air, their water is unsafe, and their communities are ignored until somebody needs a vote.
We are praying in a country where powerful industries are moving fast into our communities, promising jobs and development, while too often leaving residents with unanswered questions about pollution, water usage, energy demand, backup diesel generators, rising utility costs, and who actually benefits. That includes the growing push for data centers across Illinois and the Metro East.
We are not against development.
We are against development that treats our communities like sacrifice zones.
We are against projects that use our land, our water, our energy grid, and our public resources without real community benefit, real transparency, and real accountability.
If data centers are coming into our region, then communities in East St. Louis, Cahokia Heights, Centreville, Brooklyn, Alorton, Washington Park, Madison, Venice, Granite City, Collinsville, Edwardsville, Glen Carbon, Alton, Godfrey, Wood River, Roxana, Pontoon Beach, Highland, and every part of Madison and St. Clair Counties deserve a seat at the table before decisions are made, not after the deal is already done.
“So today, I don’t want us to pray soft prayers. I don’t want us to pray prayers that make us feel good yet leave us unchanged. I don’t want us to pray prayers that bless injustice, excuse cowardice, or make peace with oppression.”
Who gets the jobs?
Who will pay for the infrastructure?
How much water will be used?
How much energy will be demanded?
What happens when backup generators run?
Will utility bills rise for families?
Will there be enforceable community benefits?
Will Black, Brown, working-class, and flood prone communities be protected or once again asked to carry the burden?
We deserve to know.
So today, I don’t want us to pray soft prayers. I don’t want us to pray prayers that make us feel good yet leave us unchanged. I don’t want us to pray prayers that bless injustice, excuse cowardice, or make peace with oppression.
Today, I’m praying for holy boldness.
I’m praying that God gives us the courage to tell the discomfited truth in rooms where people would rather stay comfortable.
I’m praying that God shakes loose every system that has kept our communities underfunded, underdeveloped, over-policed, over-polluted, and overlooked.
I’m praying for East St. Louis.
I’m praying for Cahokia Heights.
I’m praying for Centreville, Brooklyn, Alorton, Washington Park, Madison, Venice, and Sauget.
I’m praying for Granite City, Alton, Godfrey, Wood River, Roxana, Pontoon Beach, Collinsville, Edwardsville, Glen Carbon, Highland, and every community across St.Clair and Madison County and the Metro-East that has had to survive what other people created and then refused to fix.
But I’m also praying that we understand something clearly: prayer is not an excuse to do nothing.
“Because if we are really praying to the God of the Exodus, then we cannot be comfortable with people still living under Pharaoh’s systems.”
Prayer should move us.
Prayer should organize us.
Prayer should make us more dangerous to injustice.
Because if we are really praying to the God of the Exodus, then we cannot be comfortable with people still living under Pharaoh’s systems. If we are really praying to the God of the prophets, then we cannot be silent while the poor are crushed and the powerful are protected. If we are really praying in the name of God, then we cannot ignore the sick, the imprisoned, the stranger, the hungry, the forgotten, the polluted, the priced out, and the pushed aside.
So yes, today we pray.
But after we pray, we work.
We organize.
We vote.
We build power.
We hold elected officials accountable.
We fight for clean air and clean water.
We demand fair maps and real democracy.
We demand responsible development.
We demand that data centers and other major projects come with enforceable community benefits, environmental protections, local hiring, transparency, and accountability.
My prayer today is not that God would simply bless America. My prayer is that God would trouble America until America learns how to bless all of God’s children.
And my prayer for us is that we do not grow weary in this work. That we do not become numb. That we do not confuse politeness with peace. That we do not mistake silence for unity. That we do not let anyone tell us that “progress” means our communities must accept pollution, displacement, silence, or disrespect.
This is a praying moment.
But it is also an organizing moment.
And if our prayers are real, they ought to show up in how we fight for our people.
