Mayor Parker, a wounded officer, and a renewed prayer for our city

Just before Mayor Cherelle L. Parker addressed reporters after a police officer was critically wounded in a shooting on Saturday, the distraught, distant look in her eyes reflected the collective devastation of the moment.

You could almost watch as she snapped herself back to somber reality and began to speak directly to Philadelphians.

“Right now, I want you to know that your mayor is a praying mayor, and I believe in the power of prayer,” she said. “I echo the sentiments of our commissioner that we need to pray for —”

At that, Parker stopped and lowered her head to compose herself for a few seconds before continuing.

We need to pray for “this Philadelphian serving, protecting the people of our city, doing the noble job under very tough circumstances,” she said. “So Philadelphia, I ask that you join us in prayer because it is the most we can do right now.”

It’s been nearly 30 years since Buzz Bissinger’s epic 408-page book, A Prayer for the City, chronicled former Mayor Ed Rendell’s first years in office trying to salvage a city on the edge. It’s more than a decade since I first read it when I moved to Philly to write a newspaper column.

But since watching and rewatching the video of Parker speaking to Philadelphians in the hours after the shooting, I couldn’t help but think of the surface-level parallels: a beleaguered city desperately in need of leadership, a new mayor charged with bringing it back from the brink, and the major and minor miracles that are needed to pull it off.

I am not an especially religious person, but in moments of personal and communal crisis, I suspend my disappointment in most organized religions and welcome prayer, in whatever form it comes.

My prayer of choice for our city is this column — in which I challenge it, dissect it, and hold its leaders accountable. But I’m also always rooting for it. Always. Always.

As I’ve said in the past, two things can simultaneously be true: I’ve pointed out my concerns about the way the Parker administration handles some of its business. I’ve also pointed out how some of Parker’s early moves as a leader have offered glimmers of a kind of optimism about our city that we probably haven’t seen since the start of the pandemic.

Part of that hopefulness almost certainly comes from the low bar that was set in the waning days of the previous administration, when a mayor — who has since acknowledged he probably was as worn-out from 2020 and its aftermath as the rest of us — seemed to be too weary to muster up anything in the way of inspiration. And if he prayed, it seemed, it was only to ask that he be done with the job as soon as possible.

In my most gracious moments for the past administration’s struggles, I remind myself of the unprecedented position they found themselves in the face of a global pandemic and reckonings that challenged all kinds of systems. I can understand what led to some of their lowest moments.

But I will never forgive a leader who turned his back on a city full of people needing healing, needing hope, needing prayers.

When I heard about Saturday’s shooting, I feared the officer who was shot was one of the rookies who had just been sent into Kensington as part of Parker’s active enforcement in one of our most challenging and dangerous parts of the city. I question the wisdom of that move.

Turning cities around can sometimes begin with the smallest of acts.

I’m not sure if six years of service on the force makes him a veteran, but of the very limited information that has been released about the officer, he has been on the job that long. More importantly, he is a 31-year-old father who went to work and is now inside Temple University Hospital fighting for his life.

A lot has been made — during the last four years especially — about the decay of American cities, and it would be dishonest not to acknowledge the challenges places like Philadelphia continue to face as we grapple with all kinds of losses. But it would also be wrong not to point out that it’s a narrative mostly peddled by disingenuous politicians just looking to take cheap shots.

Parker is far from perfect, but in moments like these — moments when many residents turn to their leaders for direction, for hope — even her staunchest critics would have to admit she is more than up for the job. It is only when she becomes a passionless bureaucrat (paging New York City Mayor Eric Adams) that the city could be lost.

Turning cities around can sometimes begin with the smallest of acts: a mayor who cares, a Council that’s engaged, bureaucrats who are focused on helping their constituents more than themselves — even as they beseech a higher power for the strength or the inspiration to do so. Here in Philadelphia, we can use all the help — and prayers — we can get.