You looked like you could use this

2/26

Martin is sitting with a copy of Berthold Brecht’s translation of Antigone. 
I see you’ve got the right one, I say.  
This thing is amazing, he says. And tells me the story of Antigone again. He’s working on a song of the priests of Delphi who are basically singing, whatever little joy we have in this world is just the gods messing with us. (Word that.) He’s translating that into flamenco. I love it. Sophocles to Brecht to flamenco. This is West-Park. He looks at me intently. This is the Jesus story, you know? But with a woman...

Yeah, I say, same thing. We’re talking archetypes. Deep stuff, at the core. (There’s Grotowski, peeking out again.) What I saw at Joe’s Pub was like no flamenco I’d never seen before. 
Martin responds, It’s we gotta stop hating, you know, stop the cycles. Say no. Only love, you know?

Funny. We were talking about the same thing at our clergy group this morning. With a variation. I’d mentioned that there was something  worse than hate. Hate is still engaged. Connected. Even if destructive. What’s worse is invisibility. Not to be seen. Not to be noticed to all. As if humanity, existence itself is denied.

Nan comes in  to see if there are any checks to go out. Her work as bookkeeper is much easier with some money in the bank. We talk about the issues involved with going for city money and she speaks from her own time also working for SPSA who lived through the experience of landmarking then the nightmare of promised city funding not arriving. They are still recovering financially from that.

Jason W drops in. He’s working  two jobs, as a bike messenger and as an ice cream delivery guy. Long, hard hours. We’re working on finding him housing. While we’re talking, Peter M from the Interfaith Assembly Board stops in.  He’s got a project of looking into various programs. Seeing what they have to offer. I explain that we don’t have programs per se, but ministry. He’ s surprised when he discovers that Midnight Run stops here regularly. It’s not their appointed stop, he says. They’re supposed to stop at SPSA.

But they come here because of the people on the steps, I say.  They’re not on the steps at SPSA anymore.

That’s because someone tried to set the church in fire! He says.

But, point is, they come by almost every Friday. I even got a stocking cap from them before I get my own winter clothes out of storage.
Peter will see if he can help Jason W, too.

Cara is here, working, and she and Jason find it tragic that virtually all the other church steps have been closed off. No temporary sanctuary. Though I’m always on the verge of going there.

Peter leaves and Jason and I finish our exploration. There are possibilities.

Cara returns with a young blond woman. From the Midwest.  Wants us to post announcements for auditions for a Christian youth theatre. That seems to present straight up plays, like Seussical. And summer camps. She’s been looking for a church. While Jason and I were talking, Cara had given her tour, making sure that she saw the rainbow flag. She still seems interested.  We invite her to come Sunday.  We’ll see what happens.

There’s no get acquainted meeting this afternoon with a proposed anchor tenant. Not going to happen. Speculating why is not helpful.  It just is. We’ll deal with it. Sigh.

Late in the day. Priska comes into my office with a cup of coffee. I saw you in here, she said. You looked like you could use this.