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Showing posts with label 21-23; urban ministry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 21-23; urban ministry. Show all posts

Saturday, November 1, 2014

Count the votes. Always.

10/28

Tom Bo comes in. Working together on  a concert/worship experience for December  based on a strong poem written from the perspective of someone living inside a refrigerator box.  We also talk about other ways we can respond to or interpret Matthew 25, the least of these. …..

And then he takes the time  to work with me on a piece I wrote a long time ago but could never put together. It’s way outside of  my normal genres of country/folk styles. It feels really good to be working in this way.

Phil F of the Revolutionary Communists comes in  to negotiate the last details of an agreement for them to move into our place and use it as a command center for their upcoming big event dialogue between Chairman Avakian to be held at Riverside Church. They are, shall we say, pulling out all stops. And Phil, in their typical dedicated and details fashion, wants every base covered and no stone left unturned.

Out on 86th street, my old friend Philip N is passing slowly past the church. He smiles when he sees me, Long time mentor and friend. He performed our marriage. Preceded me at West-Park. (As interim) And recruited me for the job. One of my favorite quotes of his is  the problem with liberals is they don’t count the vote….     

That comes to mind often for me. Easier said that done. But when we did that hard work, in  Presbytery last November, we won. That’s just the beginning of what I learned from him. In his 80’s now, the quiet gentleness that was always there is more immediate. His smile,warmth comes easily. I catch  him up on West-Park and he starts back up the street. Slowly.,

10/29

The Aussie filmmaker has been here since 6 AM. He’s finally finished. Almost. Reshoots based on what happened his last day shooting here when one of his actresses backed out on him. So it goes. Small indie guys just have to deal.

Gregory again. I wish he didn’t bother me so much. Or that I could be kinder. I remind him it’s not the church’s money, it’s my personal money. And he tells me that he knows that and that there’ no one else he would hit up the  way he does me. He says this as if it’s a compliment. This bears some reflection.

10/30

Sean has decided to accept the help from BRC. Again. Start back in the shelter. Work his way back up. Again. And try to avoid those situations where he’ most vulnerable. Like the shower.  Promises to remove his stuff by the weekend. We'll see. 

Stephen W and Pat O in for a conference call and strategy session for our meeting tomorrow with the Department of Buildings.Manhattan Borough President Brewer got this meeting set up. We have to take it. Just have to be on  he same page as to how to deal with it. It’s always a sensitive issue with the bureaucracy.

The Con Ed meter reader has been working hard to get someone to notice that he’s there and help get down to the basement to read his meter.

Trish stops by as she’s clearing out her stuff from her open rehearsal/workshop of The Divinity of Hell: the handkerchief sequence in Shakespeare’s Othello. My friend John H, the Shakespeare scholar, friend and Center board member comes to see it with me. Shares my appreciation for the good solid work visible so far. Immersive use of the sanctuary, the Chapel and Mc Alpin. A natural ease with the Elizabethan iambic pentameter. A judicious cut of the play.  Focus on one sequence, according to John, perhaps the most important and laden with religious allegory. And a cast that was uniformly strong but unique in a Bianca who becomes here more than a plot device but a storing growing character of her own. I love watching these kind of efforts blossom. Trish is overjoyed. So a real production awaits in February.

The Revolutionary Communists are moving in like an orderly occupation. They’ll be living with us for almost a month. They continue to fascinate and intrigue me. I will watch this carefully.

They moved in when Othello moved out. I figure Robeson would like that.




Monday, July 14, 2014

Another opening. Parable of the sower. Happy Birthday Jeremy!

7/12



In working on the service and other things for tomorrow.

Berik and Leila are having another international exhibit, this time Innovation of Fantasy. And Berik’s lined up live music as well. Dion has shown just to be supportive. This is what I'm working on, a community of mutual accountability, that will be there for one another.  And Hugo and Arcadia. And Ish, who we haven’t seen for awhile but who worked closely with Regi on tech stuff related  to our Punto de Encuentro program that made two missions to Brasil. Which of course brings the World Cup into the discussion. No one has been able to even say a word to our Brazilian friends like Junia. Too painful. A nation dumbstruck. Tomorrow presents issues as well. I’ve got a son and Uli and Jana and all kinds of German friends. But then there’s the global south issuebut then Brasil would never support  Argentina. Viva Germany!

I enjoy the art work. Especially Berik’s new work with hidden images. And then back to work.

Leila, Ish, Berik, Hugo, Arcadia


By the time RL drops by with an invitation, I’m ready for a break….

7/13

Sunday. Jeremy’s back. In honor of his birthday, they’re playing the World Cup final. Amber Lee has come to visit us again from Toronto and there’s a woman from California who is, well, slightly more evangelical than the average West-Parker but she sees we’re serious about the Bible and feels comfortable joining in.

We start with Genesis 25: 19-34, otherwise known as the story of Jacob and Esau. How Esau sold his birthright, i.e., two times the inheritance of his brother, for, as the King James has it, a mess of pottage. A fine red lentil stew. A recipe would create a good visual aid. What did it smell like? Taste like?

Jeremy suggests that maybe we’ve got an allegory here about the move from hunters and nomads (Esau) to domestic settled community. (Jacob,who lived in a tent.) John R suggests that we’ve got another one of those stories that illustrate that families are not all they’re romanticized to be and that Christian fetishization of the family is not Biblical. Our California friend says that God’s plans are not always what we expect, like the younger brother being  served by the elder. (They were twins, after all.) I say that anyone who has accompanied a wife or friend through birth knows all too well Rebekah’s late term lament, If it is to be this way, why do I live? And we talk about how we sell our  birthright for a mess of pottage, global warming, college loan
debt, take your pick. The woman from California just wants her son to come back to church. 

Paul is still going on about body and spirit. (Romans 8: 1-11) I explain how that’s much more Greek philosophical than Biblical Judaism. In the end, the body is just another way of saying, like it  or not, we’re human. We will mess up. Which at the end of the day was all Calvin ever meant. And that pneuma refers to wind, spirit and breath. Make of it what we will.

Finally, the parable of the sower. (Matthew 13: 1-9, 18-23) Which Jesus goes to great length to explain. Different ways we hear and respond. Who’s down for the long haul? Who burns out quickly? And how are we prepared  to receive the seed? The word? We encourage the woman from California by telling her she doesn’t know how deep the seed went down with her son. Patience. 


We share communion. Hoping we are fertile ground, good ground. Ready to hear, receive, do , and grow. And Jeremy leads us in a gospel version of God be with you till we meet again…and finish with Amen!, Much to Xavier’s delight.

And we do sing Happy Birthday, Jeremy!

The Session reviews the latest inquiries and offers. Decides to nail down a construction manager and star moving forward. Feels like a right decision. 

The World Cup awaits.





Monday, September 3, 2012

Labor Day Sunday


9/2

Things seem to be ready as I approach the church. Teddy is sitting on the steps, gives me a hearty Good morning. We look at the Con Ed guys hard at work on a Sunday. Amazing, says Teddy, given that Con Ed just laid off 8000 workers. After a lockout....Brutal. And those guys will be back out here tomorrow I go to get supplies for communion. Get a call from Danielle. Bulletins not printed. Both copy shops closed. Labor Day weekend. One of our printers is out of toner. I’ll have to do this by hand. And try not to get intimidated. 

When I get back, Teddy and I continue our conversation. But something’s not right. And then we realize. In the north doorway, there’s a massive mess of human shit. Papers, flies. And another in the south doorway. Damn, I say. Jesus Christ...There’s too much to do and too little time before services. I’m sorry, Teddy, I say, we got to deal with this.....No man, he says, I’m sorry, missed this. I am sorry...Damn, this is just vindictive....

And sadly, the hose is locked away in the boiler room. We’re going to have to old school bucket brigade this. Teddy goes to roust Jay. I pull Steve off the piano. Sorry man, this is more important... Bucket after bucket dragged from the basement. Inside, Luisa is entertaining Antoinette, a visitor from Staten Island. Before it’s over, we’ll have run out of bleach and worn out a mop. And there are still bulletins to print. 

We’re halfway done when Jamie shows up with her dog, Toto. I’m also upset because I know how hard she works to try and make the place inviting to the people in the neighborhood we need to come. But she quietly grabs a broom and dustpan and gets to work. Not the prelude I want for Sunday worship. 

When it’s clean enough, I call everyone inside. Glen has arrived with his dog, Tony as well. Tony and Toto eye each other with a combination of interest and wariness. I pull up my stool, welcome the congregation. Thank Teddy and Steve and Jay. Try to find the right theological language to describe how what they’ve done ties into worhsip. I feel it. But the words are not easy. 

In our prayers, we lift up Edward, though that is not easy either. Next time I see him, it’s an automatic 911, no questions asked. 

Today, we begin with beautiful love poetry from the Song of Solomon (2:8-13) But the main passages are from the letter of James (1:17-27) and Mark 7: 1-8, 114-15, 21-23. 

It’s Labor Day Sunday. We think of the Con Ed guys hard at work outside. The  issue between  Jesus and his adversaries is  pretty clear.  It starts with the laws related to food, the laws of kashrut.  These laws originally served a variety of  purposes:
  • A call for humane treatment of animals. Muslims and Jews have virtually the same laws. Kosher and hallel very similar. 
  • A caution against mindless consumption
  • And finally health. Careful of pigs in hot climates, careful of shellfish, etc.

And ultimately here, what also is at stake identity....this is who we are as opposed to those who are not us.....

Jesus has several concerns in this confrontation:
  • Those who live on the surface and not the deeper values
  • Going to the heart of the matter
  • And most importantly,ultimately breaking down barriers to inclusion.

We talked about the short road  from classifying food as traif (unclean) to classifying the people who eat it as traif.  I recalled coming to Tulsa as a vegetarian. And being invited to a barbeque at my friend Thomas’ Church of the Living God. (As opposed to?)  I decided their offering of fellowship transcended any moral issues I might have about meat. It’s not what goes into the mouth....

James makes it straight and clear: what we are looking for is DOERS of the word,  not HEARERS. Walk, not talk. 

Those who were at out last Bible Study, August 20th, remember our dialogues and discussions on the Mark passage. 


Our conversation goes to all kinds of places, including addiction and the place of tough love.  How love sometimes requires a no. I can love Edward and still believe that the most loving thing would be to get him arrested and taken to detox. At any rate, he can’t be there anymore. The law of freedom is not easy. Takes reflection. Discernment. Hard choices.

Yes, doers, not hearers. 

We are an intimate group this Labor Day Sunday. So I invite everyone to gather around the table for communion. As I look around the table, I see  faces. Each one, the image of God. And as hands reach out to take the bread, I look at hands. The small black hands of Shana. The cafe con leche hands of Luisa. Hands gnarled by arthritis. The worn and dirty hands of homelessness or SRO life. The faces of Rachelle, Bobby. This is truly the Lord’s Supper. The communion of saints. Even though some of my exiled Catholics are still hesitant about partaking of non-priest consecrated bread and wine, they too, are in the  circle, this is what it is supposed to be. 

I stand outside, in my green stole. Greeting people. 

Jamie and I sit to go over details of our ongoing negotiations with Noche.  Marc comes in to pick up a CD changer Jamie has brought in  to donate.  Later we go down to check out our hoses to facilitate steps cleaning. 

There are hospital visits ahead to Rachel who took a fall on her steps and Jim W who had a fall of his own. Later, I will join our folks in serving a meal at the homeless shelter at SPSA. My day is far from over.