Christmas Eve 2021: Let it be

 

Christmas Eve 2021

We gathered tonight in the chapel. Due to the ever recurring  building issues.  And public safety. Omicron fear is widespread and numbers will be down. Berik and Leila have spent the day decorating and have even found a tree!  The little chapel looks beautiful.  The congregation is small and slow gathering.  Many just come for the party after.  We put our chairs in a circle and share songs....from Russia, Kaakhstan, Bengladesh, Ireland...yes, we are still here....it's Christmas...

Merry Christmas 2021.  For those of you keeping score, this is the 110th Christmas for West Park and the 132nd Christmas for this building. And for me personally here , 26th. We are carrying on a tradition. Though I wish we could be in the sanctuary, nevertheless, we are here.

Where does Christmas 2021 find us? We are living through our second Corona Christmas. Just when we’re beginning to feel a little freer, a little more normal, along comes  Omicron, sounding like some Transformer movie character but wily enough for breakthrough infections with already vaccinated people. 

The airlines have cancelled over 2000 flights globally. The Radio City Music Hall Rockettes’ season has come to an unanticipated end. Our neighbor SPSA has gone to virtual only tonight. In Bethlehem, the Palestinians depend on an annual influx of Christmas pilgrims for economic survival.  Israel has banned all tourism. Holiday parties cancelled left and right. And two members of my family now have breakthrough so our plans have all fallen through. And don’t get me started on the state of politics in our country and the serious division between us that many don’t even want to heal. 

A little later we will sing “Silent night, holy night, all is calm, all is bright…”   Well, not exactly….

Tonight we read the old familiar story in Luke. About the census that gets everyone moving.  Fun fact…as near as scholars can tell, this census took place in 6CE.  So Jesus was born six years after his birth date.  Doesn’t matter. 

What does matter is context. This census is taking place because Herod, the appointed ethnarc, has screwed up so badly that Rome is going to take direct control over Judea. And impose taxation directly to Rome. The occupation the people live under is about to get even more oppressive. They will be under the appointed ruler of Syria. 

This is the context into which Jesus is born.  A people living under an oppressive foreign occupation. Jesus is always born in  the midst of difficult situations. We are not politically occupied but we are certainly occupied by a virus.

 Luke goes into all these details because he wants us to know that God’s desire to enter into our world, to live in our midst, experience life like one of us…can only take place in a specific time and place with its own particular socio economic political realities. 

Note Luke’s other particularities.  Jesus is born to a working class family. The poor cousins to Elizabeth and Zechariah. Then. And is born in a stable among animals because there is “no room at the inn..” (How many of our fellow New Yorkers will find no place tonight?)

Matthew brings us kings, but Luke, Luke has the first witnesses be shepherds. (If you were to go there tonight, you would still find Palestinian shepherds in that very field. ). In those days, shepherds were the only ones to sleep outside the city gate. As romantic as our images of shepherds is, in Jesus’ day they were looked on as ah, kinda seedy and crude at best and more likely suspicious. It is to such as these that God chooses to first reveal Godself. Not in St. John the Divine.  Not in St. Patrick’s Cathedral or Fifth Avenue Presbyterian. But in a small town barn with shepherds nearby. And so it is. God chooses to reveal Godeslf tonight within the battered walls of little West Park church to a gathering of what Sly Stone called everyday people, everyday New York people.  That’s what tonight is about…God choosing to take up residence in the midst of our humanity.  Our humanity. 

What are the consequences of that?  How we live.  How we care for  each other. See if God is in our midst, there is that of God in each of us. That needs to be seen, recognized, respected and loved.  What we do here tonight  is important. The sharing of a potluck meal is important. Breaking bread with  one another. Here in the 1970’s, after Christmas Eve services, people would gather upstairs in McAlpin Hall for a bowl of hot soup. Congregation members, peace activists, aging  neighborhood leftists, homeless people would all come together to break bread. And share soup. We continue that tradition tonight in our own unique way. Some of us a community that gathers every Friday for sharing music…and so much more….

I felt the need to add a little to the scripture tonight. Earlier in Luke, when Mary is told what it is she will be called on to do, at first she is taken aback. She’s young. She’s working class. And most of all, she’s not even married. To walk down this road will lead to all  kinds of issues. After she questions all this, the angel gives an answer that is not really an answer. And Mary responds with these words….Then Mary said, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.”

In all honesty, there are more hard days ahead. You know the serenity prayer: 

God, grant me the Serenity

To accept the things I cannot change...Courage to change the things I can,

And Wisdom to know the difference.

And  Angela Davis’ response “ Help me to change the things I can’t accept..”

We gotta take care of each other out there.   And to not stress about what we can’t change. As they say..

 Living one day at a time,

Enjoying one moment at a time,

Accepting hardship as the pathway to peace.

This year saw the release of the documentary, Get Back…about the making of the Beatles (last) album Let It Be…

It took me awhile to realize that the lyrics of that song are a riff on Luke, the Magnificat   …the lonely people, the broken hearted and what comes immediately before….Let it be…to me…

So in the days to come, as we walk through this second covid winter, let’s take care of each other, be gentle with one another, and be able to just let it be …just let it be…

Immanuel….God is with us….

Gospel Luke 2:1-14 (15-20)

1In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. 2This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. 3All went to their own towns to be registered. 4Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. 5He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. 6While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. 7And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.

8In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. 9Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. 10But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for see — I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: 11to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. 12This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” 13And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying,
14  “Glory to God in the highest heaven,
          and on earth peace among those whom he favors!”

15When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.” 16So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger. 17When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; 18and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them. 19But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. 20The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.

Sand tarts

12/21

Sand tarts

Sand tarts ready to eat

Christmas cookies were always a major part of our holiday season.   There  were many varieties, each baked and put in their own box. But of all the various cookies, the most important, the ur cookie as it were, was the sand tart. Thin and crisp, golden brown, dusted with cinnamon…a simple decoration of nut or red or green maraschino cherry or candied pineapple.  Baked to perfection.  

They go back to my grandmother in Huntingdon, Pennsylvania.  Apparently brought to Pennsylvania by the Amish and Mennnonites, my son in Berlin tells me they’re a common German cookie.  Our recipe seems to come from the cookbook made by the Huntingdon County Society for Crippled Children and Adults, where many of our family favorites are found. Circa 1950’s I’m guessing. And so passed down to my mom and our family.

ready for decorating

Sand tart making was always a communal affair, each with their own role.  Mom rolling the dough, which had been refrigerated overnight, out flat. The kids cutting the shapes….star, crescent moon, reindeer, Santa, heart….glazing with egg white. Dusting with cinnamon and and maybe red or green sugar and by custom, only one other decoration.  Though every batch or so we were allowed to go crazy and really load up one cookie, usually the Santa one.  My father would command the oven, precisely timing the cookies to avoid burning. 

Passed  to  the next generation, one Christmas my wife invited my Pittsburgh cousin then living as a young single woman in New York City, to join us for a night of sand tart making. And even now in our divorced state she brings sand tarts to our family gathering. They remain a constant. 

I am sitting vigil with my mom in her final hours in an assisted living  facility in New Jersey. Scrolling through my messages, I find a Viber message from my son in Berlin, Germany. What I see gives me a smile in the midst of this journey. A sense of an unbroken circle. Five year old Roko and 3 year old  Karla are at the table with their father, cutting out cookie dough in stars and other shapes, making sand tarts. 

 

Third Sunday in Advent: The time to come?

12/12

at Good Shepherd Faith

trio

Ta'u Papua

On the third Sunday of Advent, I actually got to preach to a live congregation in person at Good Shepherd Faith church near Lincoln Center. It was a joint service of their English speaking and Korean congregations combined.  And we were blessed by special music, both by a trio and a wonderful solo by NFL player turned rising opera star Ta'u Papua.  Here are my reflections on the day...

It’ s so good to be here. Since the pandemic began I have preached only in four in person services…three  in Pittsburgh…and one here. Covid is not going away any time soon, and no, neither horse medicine or mouthwash is going to protect you. The best we can do is get vaccinated and continue to wear masks.  And be smart but not crazy.

Wow…there is so much going on in the gospel this morning. We’ve got John the Baptist with his unapologetic anger. Calling people vipers…that was considered really bad. The myth was that vipers ate their way out of their mothers. And he’s talking about  the wrath to come and winnowing forks and axes to the root and unquenchable fire….serious stuff…by the time you get to the end, you have to ask…so this is good news?

SO let me go to the heart of the matter…his words are harsh, they are urgent and they are concrete.

He’s calling people to repent, turn their lives around and celebrate newness with baptism, a riff on the Jewish practice of the spiritually cleansing waters of the  mikvah. And receive forgiveness of sins…

But here’s the thing…baptism is not enough.  And neither is being descended from Abraham. Or being white. Or American. Or belonging to the right church. None of that counts. 

What counts is living your life in a new way. Making sure people are clothed and fed. And I might add housed. Please note that John doesn’t do a Jesus “give all you have..” You still get one coat, still get sufficient food. The reality is with all those who live with food insecurity, with hunger….there are sufficient food resources in the world to sustain all…we still pay farmers not to produce food…we have a problem not of production but of distribution…there are more vacant houses than there are homeless…and we now have 110% more than we did 10 years ago according to the census..with 254 people claiming Central Park as their address…

And see how he talks to the tax collectors and soldiers. Both these are despised with the community because they are essentially collaborators with the occupying Romans. The soldiers probably refers to those who worked for Herod, the Roman installed ethnarc. In each case he doesn’t tell them to leave their jobs, only not to exploit others. 

(Ched Meyers has pointed out that the way the system worked, it almost required tax collectors and soldiers to exploit others just to get by…systems do that,..)

One of my guilty pleasures on tv is Succession , with Brian Cox. Loosely based on the Murdoch family. Last week, one of the sons who had tried and failed to bring his father to justice said to his father, “I can’t do what you do. The only way you can do what you do is to be corrupt…” The system almost requires it to win…

No receiving forgiveness is not enough…taking care of each other …and the most vulnerable…is. It’s that concrete.

As for the wrath to come…maybe it’s already here. What we face right now is more than enough to deal with. As for winnowing  forks, wheat and chaff, traditionally we like to use passages like this to make us feel better. Like someone else is going to get it. Historically, our Calvinist forebears were very clear theologically that we could never say for sure who was saved. That was entirely up to God in God’s freedom to choose. But it kind of morphed into but if you look real close you can pretty much tell..and it’s us..

It’s like sheep and goats, wheat and chaff…we all are both, have both inside of us.  And the reflective part of Advent calls us as we seek to come to the manger of baby Jesus to seek to “winnow out” that of us that is chaff. To clear away that which gets in our way, chokes out the goodness inside of us. That idea that we are all sinners is what informs our Presbyterian polity, our way of doing things, and if you think about it, democracy as well. None of us is perfect…and we need each other.

I feel like I have seen more efforts to reach out this year…more voluntary efforts…my local Venezuelan coffee shop conducted a coat drive (if you have two…) and is now doing a book drive. The restaurants in my neighborhood are conducting a new toy drive.  The opportunities are there…

So…the time to come? The time is now…if we take care of now, there’s nothing to worry about. Not hurricanes or firenados or social unrest or pandemics or…the greatest gift we can give this baby Jesus we come to celebrate is to  take care of each other…in love…

Amen

 Luke 3: 7-18

7John said to the crowds that came out to be baptized by him, "You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? 8Bear fruits worthy of repentance. Do not begin to say to yourselves, 'We have Abraham as our ancestor'; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. 9Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire."

10And the crowds asked him, "What then should we do?" 11In reply he said to them, "Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise." 12Even tax collectors came to be baptized, and they asked him, "Teacher, what should we do?" 13He said to them, "Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you." 14Soldiers also asked him, "And we, what should we do?" He said to them, "Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages."

15As the people were filled with expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah, 16John answered all of them by saying, "I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. 17His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire."

18So, with many other exhortations, he proclaimed the good news to the people.

The Second Sunday of Advent: Prepare the Way

12/5

season of light

On the second Sunday of Advent, I was with the Beverley Church community again.  Here si my reflection.....

This is always one of my favorite Sundays of the year.  The Second Sunday of Advent.  The Sunday John the Baptist comes back to the stage again. But before we get to him, first a few words about Advent…Advent comes from the Latin to come…we’re talking about what’s to come…and specifically, we’re talking about the coming of Jesus.  And every year when  we enter Advent, we’re entering a season, a time of preparation for the celebration of 3 comings at the same time. 

First, there’s the very existential celebration of this year’s Christmas with who you will be with …family of origin or family of choice, friends, loved ones….the unique circumstances of this particular year as they are for each of us. And as we live in together as a community.   And as the world around us is inundated with the secular Christmas season, Advent can become for us a place for us of respite, of peace and refreshment for our soul. 

Second, we look back to the historic birth of Jesus, millennia ago, and try to make sense of God’s choice to enter into our world in human form. And what significance that might have for us today. 

And finally there is that coming yet to come, that so-called second coming when Jesus comes back to wrap things up, sing the 11 PM grad finale song  and pull the curtain down on this production.  But in a recent conversation with my friend Naim Atik from Jerusalem, he suggested that another way to translate this is not second coming, but Jesus comes again. Again because in fact, Jesus never has left us. He has been here  with us all along, amen, 

So now we’re ready for John. I want you too notice something….how very specific Luke is about time:

1In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was ruler of Galilee, and his brother Philip ruler of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias ruler of Abilene, 2during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness. 

He wants to be very specific.

Like hear this:

The first year of the Presidency of Joseph Biden, the last year of the mayorship of William De Blasio in the last month before the mayoralty of  Eric Adams in the year that Kathy Hochul succeeded Anthony Cuomo when Francis is Pope in Rome and Bob Brashear about to be installed as Moderator of New York City Presbytery (had to work that in) the word came to the people of Beverly in Brooklyn, See? Like that…

Now who was this John the Baptist? According to Luke, he was the son of Zechariah…Zechariah, a priest of the Jerusalem Temple.  That means John came from privilege, like being the son of a tell steeple preacher. From the heart of the religious establishment. This is the one who will head out to the desert, dressed like the most radical of hippies, and go way beyond vegan diet wise. 

I recently watched the new movie The Eyes of Tammy Faye.  It was the story of famous Tammy Faye Baker, wife and ministry partner of PTL Club founder televangelist Jim Baker. She of course famous for her make up and high gloss finish. Actually, she rocked a lot of boats by not simply accepting a woman’s role as “helpmate”, openly talking about what Christian couples could do to improve their sex lives to bringing an openly gay pastor on her show. The evangelical establishment was scandalized.

This was all before their empire came crashing down because of Jim's conviction for mail fraud and his hush money  sex scandal. But here’s what I’m getting to…several years ago, I had an encounter with their son Jay.  Turned off by what he had seen of religion, he walked away from it entirely. Got his hair punked out,  got some serious  tattoos and dived into the world of alternative culture.

Where I encountered him was in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, he had felt called to be a pastor of his own unique style and far from the Bible Belt in the urban wilderness he created the Revolution Church at Pete’s Candy Store preaching a gospel of love, non-judgment and acceptance. And social responsibility. He had special heart for young people who were runaways or throw aways or otherwise outcasts. And there’s a special place in his heart for the LGBTQ community who had surrounded his mom with so much  love as she was dying of cancer.

When I think of a modern-day John the Baptist, he’d look a lot like Jay Baker. 

So what was John the Baptist up to?  proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins…. Telling his community that it was time to turn around, go a new direction …and accept forgiveness. 

Quoting from Isaiah, he called the people to join him in the work of messianic preparation ….leveling the mountains, lifting up the valleys, making the way clear…serious accessibility…curb cuts and elevators and kneeling buses…that kind of smooth path ..like they say on the subway, this is an accessible station…the road to salvation is barrier free….

That’s what Advent is for us….a time of preparation, for getting ready,,,we should start our service with Prepare ye the word of the Lord from Godspell and finish with People Get Ready there’s a Train a Comin…

What dies that mean for us today? We live in a time of great stress and tension. The greatest income disparity since the 1920’s. A global pandemic that shows no sign of ending soon. Hurricanes on the coast, firenados in California, the greatest flowing stream of refugees and migrants the world over close to half our people don’t believe in democracy anymore. My oldest son said to me, dad, I’m not sure I believe in God, but if he was trying to gat our attention it would  look something like this…

But I also remember my friend Father Duffell who said, For most of us, reflecting  on our own death, our own mortality is apocalypse enough. If we take care of our own lives, God will take care of the rest…

Advent is a time of preparation. For the coming Kingdom (Kindom) of God. And we do that by stepping into and living in the kingdom that is already here. The community of those who  choose to gather in the name of Jesus. And practice then ministry of forgiveness of sins. There is a story about a man who asked his rabbi, Rabbi is it necessary to pray for forgiveness every day?  And his rabbi responded, No.not at all.  Only on the day before you die…

And so it’s time to get ready, to get prepared. The best Christmas gift we could give the coming baby Jesus …and each other…and ourselves..would be to truly live out a life of repentance and forgiveness of sins…beginning  with the one we have the most difficult  time forgiving, mainly ourselves.

In the very particular circumstances of this very particular year, let us prepare the way, let us prepare the way…

Let those with ears to heart, hear….

                                                                               *****

 1In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was ruler of Galilee, and his brother Philip ruler of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias ruler of Abilene, 2during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness. 3He went into all the region around the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, 4as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah,

"The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:

'Prepare the way of the Lord,

make his paths straight.

5Every valley shall be filled,

and every mountain and hill shall be made low,

and the crooked shall be made straight,

and the rough ways made smooth;

6and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.'"

Thankfulness

11/26 

Farmers Market

My good friend Rabbi Steve Blane and I have a tradition of sahrign a Thanksgivign service together.  Here is this year's reflection

 Good shabbes chaverim…we’re here on the Friday after Thanksgiving. A day that has come to be known by the strange designation “Black Friday.” I understand the connection with businesses going into the black, but it’s still weird… I do remember that as a kid, this day marked the beginning of the Christmas shopping season. Do you remember when the stores waited until then to open their magical holiday window displays? I remember how my family would head to Pittsburgh’s South Hills Village Mall to start our Christmas shopping. And of course to the Jewish deli for hot pastrami or Reubens for lunch. Now we see the decorations go up the day after Halloween. Now Pittsburgh turns on the lights in early November and calls it “Sparkle Season” so as to be really inclusive, guess.

 Which leads me to what else is big this weekend. We’re right on the cusp of the first night of Hannukah which falls on the same Sunday as Christians begin Advent, that four week time of reflection and spiritual preparation leading up to Christmas…our sibling celebrations of glowing, growing LIGHT in the darkness. BUT…I’m not ready to let go of Thanksgiving yet…I’ve got leftovers! And warm memories of my family together yesterday. 

Did you know this is the 400th anniversary of the first Thanksgiving? The pilgrims were celebrating the fact that they had a successful enough harvest with enough laid away to get through the coming New England winter. Thanks to the Wappanaog Native Americans who had taught them how to grow corn and squash and harvest clams and fish and cranberries. (A decision they regret to this day!) By the way…we always associate orange and brown with Thanksgiving. For turkeys and pumpkins I guess. But orange now has a deeper meaning..it’s the color chosen by Native Americans to commemorate those who were forced into “Indian schools,” begun in Canada and now into the US. How they came together in that first Thanksgiving is more complicated than the story we tell but we’ll just leave it with the celebration tonight. My wife had grown up believing that Thanksgiving was started to give thanks to the Indians. She was really excited to share Thanksgiving with the family of the retired chief of the Pawnee Nation  our first Thanksgiving in Oklahoma. 

 So Thanksgiving is giving thanks. And that’s important. Walter Breuggeman, a Christian theologian ,says “Doxology is the beginning of resistance.” And Abraham Joshua Heschel said “It is gratefulness which makes the soul great.” Above all else, giving thanks is an affirmation that we are not alone. On the Upper West Side, the West Side Campaign Against Hunger just gave out over 1000 turkeys. Here in Harlem, where I live, neighbors in my building gave out 50 turkey dinners. The Harlem Lounge threw its doors open from noon to 4 for free dinners for all.

 But I want to get personal. In 1993, I lost my job…and my father…all in two weeks. I soon fell into depression feeling I was all alone. But a wise friend took me aside and said, “Look, you’ve got a roof over your head. You’ve got a family, friends and people who love you who will stand by you, not let you down. Start your day by giving thanks. It will get better from there.” And he was right, I did that. And no longer felt alone. And was soon on my way back. 

 Nahum Ward Lev in his book on the Hebrew prophets, talks about the spiritual discipline of giving thanks. He recommends every night before you go to sleep, remembering all that happened over the course off the day for which you are thankful…especially what wasn’t expected. Whether it’s first thing in the morning, last thing at night or better both, it helps keep us grounded. Going. Thankfulness for all we have is a way of being, a way of living. Rabbi Heschel also said, “Our goal should be to live life in radical amazement [to] get up in the morning and look at the world in a way that takes nothing for granted. Everything is phenomenal; everything is incredible; never treat life casually. To be spiritual is to be amazed.” 

 The song I sang tonight was written in England in 1864. It came to the US in the depths of the Civil War. Somehow while the world seemed to be falling apart, people wanted to believe that there was still much to be thankful for. 

 God of all, to Thee we raise, this our hymn of grateful praise…

1 For the beauty of the earth, 
for the glory of the skies, 
for the love which from our birth 
over and around us lies. 

Refrain: 
God of all to you we raise 
this, our hymn of grateful praise. 

2 For the wonder of each hour 
of the day and of the night, 
hill and vale and tree and flower, 
sun and moon and stars of light, [Refrain ]

3 For the joy of human love, 
brother, sister, parent, child, 
friends on earth, and friends above, 
for all gentle thoughts and mild, [Refrain] 

4 For yourself, best gift divine, 
to the world so freely given, 
agent of God's grand design: 
peace on earth and joy in heaven. [Refrain]

Harvard-Yale reflections

 11/20

The Bowl

To New Haven

The day begins catching the 8:10 AM from 125th Street in Harlem to New Haven. To my complete surprise, the train is already SRO. I pass through cars until I can go no further. Not a seat to be had. While New Jersey Transit has a strict no food, no drink policy this Metro North is a rolling breakfast tailgate complete with mimosas. I am not looking forward to a two hour stand.

A young Asian guy is holding 3 of 4 of the straight back fold down seats for friends joining in Stamford.  The circle of friends nearest me say, “Dude, seriously?” And he relents and offers up 3 of the 4 seats and goes back to his Times.  A young woman looks up and sees an old  man standing and says, “Would you like to sit down?” And without hesitation, I say “ I sure would” and take her seat.

My companions  are all  26 or so and Yale Med grads working at Sinai. A mix of ethnicities, genders, gay and straight, friends. Yale. They are well supplied with craft beer.  They ask if I’m an alum and I say “Yes, Div School’75” which leads to questions and shared beers as we roll on to New Haven.

I realize the overwhelming number of riders on this train are young professional grads from Yale and Harvard who live and work in the city. Their city adventure years. Doctors, lawyers, traders and techies, you could run a small country with this train.    But today, it’s all about the GAME.

                                                             To the Bowl

How to get to the Bowl from the Union Station is a major concern.  Cabs and Ubers, given the traffic, are out of the question. My companions are ready for a two and a half mile trek to the Bowl.  My best option seems to be a cab to campus and then a Yale shuttle. As I look for a cab, I see another FREE shuttle to the Green.

And there I am, right across from the Yale shuttle.  I’m pleased that I’ve managed to come this way all for free. On the bus, I remember the old familiar route to the game. Little changed in almost half a century.  Even the package stores where we’d load up on beer and harder stuff and the delis where we’d stock up on hoagies for the game. I remember the long Saturday afternoons with my friends, from Texas and Ohio and Virgina. Our crew of first Div School students still feeling like, holding onto being college students. And I remember my late December time here in freezing rain with one of my Bridgeport students to see the Giants trounced by the Vikings during their ill conceived  two year sojourn here. How the Giant’s faithful must’ve hated this journey.  I see it all again, my friends, their  faces. The feel of crisp fall New England air. 

As we slowly wind our way to the Bowl, there’s a steady growing, flowing stream of people walking their way with determination to the Bowl like pilgrims to a shrine. Which is in a way true. 

The OG

We finally stop a couple  of blocks short with traffic at stand  still so I walk the rest of the way, looking at the grassy fields filled with tailgaters. At the gate, a group of Harvard students are surprised to find a no bag policy in effect and the security guy is giving them a tough once over. He sees my old school hat and repro practice jersey, my age, smiles and says, OK OG, you’re good, c’mon through.  And after an ID and vax check and always anxiety filled mobile ticket scan, I’m there. The grassy hill  that surrounds the bowl, built from the earth dug out to make it, like a prehistoric culture’s burial mound.

                                          Pregame

Nothing has changed …except for the circle of food trucks ringing the stadium with everything from barbecue to guacamole to kelp burgers. I settle for a “loaded” kielbasa. 

Oh, and portable stadium lights on trucks.  With the advent of overtime in college ball, games, even starting  at noon, can stretch out into late afternoon with darkness falling. 

Joint bands

Inside, I’m shocked to see the Bowl only about a third full. At most. I take a great  aisle seat on the 40. The Harvard side nearly empty as  first the band in Crimson and then the Yale Precision Marching Band,  both in their blazers and white pants,  do their pregames and the the two bands join together for the National Anthem. 

                               The Game

The GAME is underway

Yale marches right down to score.  A couple of interceptions lead to a field goal and touchdown for Harvard . With 5 minutes left in the half, Harvard is up by 10 after a return of an all too short punt. Then at about two minutes left, Yale’s left handed sophomore quarterback Grooms is nearly sacked, scrambles and nearly out of bounds flings the ball straight down the sideline to a sprinting JJ Howland for a thrilling touchdown. 

I missed some exciting plays due to the steady stream of people entering the stands. I’d forgotten that for a large part of the crowd, the tailgate is the main event. I remember taking my visiting brother to a game. As we walk past tables laden with food and cutlery and iced bottles of champagne, he said, “It’s like a rich peoples’ Woodstock.”

As I look at the game wear, the quality of shirts and white Yale sweaters and corduroys and fine leather shoes, LL Bean and beyond, I imagine the stone front the houses and rolling Connecticut estates.  Trains are for the young during their city adventure years, not people my age. There is almost an aroma to privilege.  And I’m beginning to feel annoyed. As the half ends, a late arriving group ousts me from my seat. 

There’s a tribute to veterans and a recording of I’m proud to be an American by Lee Greenwood. It feels almost Ivy ironic. I stay for the snarky half time shows of the two bands, always the essence of clever and ironic. But always ending with the traditional Boolah, Boolah (1900) and March down the field (1904). (When I moved to Oklahoma, I was shocked to discover Boolah Boolah had morphed into Boomer Sooner. Yale always has a majorette twirler and at least one guitar and violin in the band. Then head to look for food. 

second half view

With interminable lines, I head to the lower curve of the Bowl. And to  my surprise, see a nearly full stadium. The Yale side fulll, Harvard about three quarters. Nearly 50,000. Still. Years from the glory days. Still.  

I realize I’ve seen more fur today than I have in  decades. Mainly on men. Old white Elis and a black man in raccoon coat and boater  and a young flambouyant Latino with his dad. We really are reliving the last  golden age right into the twenties. This would clearly be disconcerting  to the kelp burger guys. 

I am sitting at just the right angle for a sweeping stadium view, There’s a steady stream of couples lining ups for panoramic memory shots. 

Harvard's ball

The game itself is a classic.  After back and forths and  being down by 10, Yale finally takes the lead on another Grooms pass at 34-31 with 7:48 left. Too much time, I think. And sure enough, Harvard marches relentlessly  down the field and with 22 seconds left, Luke Emge hits Wimberly with a perfect corner of the end zone  pass for a Crimson touchdown and that is that. And despite PA warnings, the Harvard students take the field.

                                                  Postgame

Handsome Dan

Grab a pulled pork barbecue on the way out. The kelp guys are giving away free burgers. Stop to check out the Handsome Dan icon statue. Searching for the shuttle back to campus. 

On the crowded bus, a beautiful young woman with chestnut hair sits beside me and, clearly having had a long day, fall asleep, her head on my shoulders. This seeming pleasant experience is fraught with anxiety contemplating how one accidental shift could lead to a startled wake up and potential “trigger” incident, me being the only old man on the bus. So I sit frozen in place for the 45 minute crawl back to campus. Thankfully, as we arrive, a friend taps her on the shoulder and I am set free.

Soon enough, I’m back at the station and on my way back to New York.

                                                      Back to New York

The train is not crowded on the way back. Mainly Harvards around me. And I’m reflecting on privilege. How with my Yale degree and first call at the then  largest Presbyterian church in the country, the table had been  set for me.  And pondering the choices that wind me up in my Harlem apartment and riding the train instead of a stone manse in Connecticut and a car and tailgate party near the bowl.

My Div School friends came from good schools.  We all felt privileged to be grad students at Yale. Somewhat  taken aback by the undergrads we’d encounter who looked at Yale as an expected birthright. 

What made Yale for me was New Haven. My off campus work as a teachers’ aid in a ghetto middle school. My time with Legal Aid in the Hill District neighborhood with a feisty staff of blacks and Puerto Ricans. Getting to know and Iove the people of the projects. Starting  to learn Spanish. The summer I stayed in New Haven working with them. My Puerto Rican  paralegal girlfriend. The Friday afternoon beer and pizza sessions reviewing the week. My architect school friend Harvey from the Bronx living on Dagget Street and working to build an access friendly peoples’ information system for the Hill.  My work at St.Paul’s Episcopal in the Wooster Square neighborhood with its landmark pizza parlors. That’s what set my course for life more than storied Ivy walls and Gothic architecture. 

I think of my friend Mark, heavy set, long haired, wheel chair bound singer-songwriter of magnificent songs, a Doonesbury era Yalie. Hosting the pandemic virtual Yale Cabaret, his circle of Yalie friends from that ‘70s other side of Yale. The unchanged older Zonker Harrises. We lost him to Covid. 

All these memories and thoughts fill my mind as the train makes its way back to Harlem. It was good to be back. 

March, march on down the field,

Fighting for Eli.

Break through that crimson line,

Their strength to defy.

We'll give a long cheer for Eli's men.

We're here to win again.

Harvard's team may fight to the end,

But Yale will win!

Bulldog, bulldog, bow-wow-wow, Eli Yale!

Bulldog, bulldog, bow-wow-wow, our team will never fail!

When the sons of Eli break through the line,

That is the sign we hail.

Bulldog, bulldog, bow-wow-wow, Eli Yale!