Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Later that same day

Later that same day....
There's a drying pool of blood in front of the steps.
Teddy is outside talking with his friend from the 24, Trevor and his partner, James. Trevor is caring and direct. Everything’s going to be ok.
Hope has arrived for our cross town trip to see the attorney. I introduce her to Trevor and James. And in the cab, tell her the story. 
When I get back, a photographer from across the street who once gave us a good picture of the church has brought Danielle a mystery. (Although at the moment he is giving an impassioned critque of the Bloomberg Administration.) He’s got photos of a religious procession. What could it be? OK, the vestments could be Greek. Or Catholic. No. There’s a woman priest. Has to be Anglican. There’s a censer. High liturgical. At least a 50/50 chance it  has to be St. Ignatius. The photographer admires my deductive process. 
I’m not showing  that I’m back in legal panic, once again trying to locate an attorney at the last minute. Jane’s nearly ready for a meeting. How can I focus?
Try all my contacts. Some interest. Some willing to go the extra mile. Heartfelt.   But the time is so short....the work day’s over. Hearing scheduled for 2:15 tomorrow. Forty pounds of files to sort through. If this were the Euro Cup, we’re already into stoppage time.  Finally my friend and neighbor Ric agrees to help. I can sleep.
Marsha, Hope and I meet with Jane and Karen. Trying to get clarity on the future. So many resources still unexplored. We are trying to pave the way for a real partnership. And we want them part of the Center. Can we find a win-win? 
Sekou can’t come to Bible Study toight. Or for a few. At least on Monday’s. He’s got a birthing class to attend in Boston for a few Mondays. BUT, sons Dan and Micah are here. And I'm glad to see Junia back tonight, too.
Back into Mark 3. Jesus calling of the 12. With the names he gives. Noms de guerre. Noms d'occupy...Twelve. Just like the twelve tribes.  He’s forming a confederacy. A provisonal government in exile. And he’s included a tax collector and at least one assassin. 
Then there’s one on Mark’s literary sandwiches where he introduces a subject, brings in another story then returns to his original idea. Here, he starts with a conflict with his family, who want to seize him and have him put away because his behavior is endangering not only him but them as well. He is beside himself...
Then confrontation with the scribes who say he is possessed. That old witchcraft argument to discredit. Or as Ched Meyer said, calling him a  Communist during the cold war. Jesus’ convoluted rhetorical defense says that is the ones who claim to be holy who do the work of satan. 
The scribes’ calling Jesus Beelzebub caused us to look up the lyrics of Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen:
Oh mama mia, mama mia, mama mia, let me go
Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me, for me, 

Eventually the story comes back to Jesus and his assault on the kinship system. Who are my brothers,sisters, mother....Theologically, we get what’s being said. Emotionally, it's hard, and potentially dangerous, that kind of commitment. 
And yet I remember the Occupiers I met who’d been kicked out of their home, or ran away to save their lives, who came together here, found safety, security, home...who are my mother, my sisters, my brothers?  
Are we ready for that kind of commitment? Whee would it leave? 
I need to go get ready for tomorrow’s court case. 

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