Living in Coronavirusworld 64: Of Memorial Day....and Ascension

5/25

In Morningside Park

Memorial Day. When I was a kid, my dad would go to Somerset to put flowers on his father’s grave. In later Pittsburgh years, there were always morning 5K races and parades and American flags everywhere. We’d go down for opening day at my mom’s pool then back to her house for a cookout on the back deck and dinner on the upstairs deck, the decks built to feel like an Outer Banks beach house deck. It still feel like that’s what I should do on Memorial Day.

It’s supposed to be a day to honor those who died in this country’s various wars. Somehow Major League Baseball got that confused with “honoring the troops” and  wearing camo as a tribute.

Yankee camo

Thankfully, most of our troops are still alive. Truly honor them? Forget  wearing camo. Just bring them home. Or make damn sure we know what we're doing before sending them somewhere we'll have to bring them back from in the first place.          

We meet in Morningside Park for our walk again.  The turtles  are out in mass again

turtles

She’s lookingg for bees tttttt.              to photograph and share with one of her kids.  As we walk through Central Park, in the Garden I realize that all the tulips are gone, the beds empty,  I wonder what will come next. And I realize that I have lived here for 25 years and never  before was aware of how the seasons  of flowers changed in the Conservatory Garden. And that we spent all of tulip season in quarantine.    

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Time for our West Park Bible Study. Tonight we’re looking at Acts 1:6-14, the story of Jesus’Ascension.  I get a laugh out of Marsha when I  refer to “fly up day” which is what it used to be called when you went from  Brownies to  Girl Scouts.  I remember my surprise when I was in modern secular Germany on this day and discovered it is still a public holiday. Everything closed. And some how merged with Father’s Day, which is  basically men going  out to drink with  other fathers. The word in German, Himmelfahrt, from Heaven Journey.

I talk about  the three portal, or gateway days in the liturgical year. Days we walk through like doors to go from one season to the next. Took me a lifetime  to “get this” but here we are. Ascencion takes us from Easter into Pentecost, Christ the King, the crown of the church year,  from Pentecost into Advent, Transfiguration Epiphany into Lent.. Jesus is preparing his disciples for his leaving earth.  He makes  three promises…the gift of the Holy Spirit, the purpose of the spirit to help us be witnesses to the ends of the earth and finally, his eventual return.

I hadn’t noticed before that Easter to Ascension is 40days. That umber again. Days of rain for Noah. Years in the wilderness for the people of Israel, days of temptation in the wilderness for Jesus. These two 40 day periods bookend the ministry of Jesus. The accounts in Luke and Acts are directed  to 'dear Theophilus”, which means Lover of God. Either an homage to one person or intended for any and all lovers of God.  Also essentially a repeat of Luke 24:44-53.  Only here do we hear this discussion of kingdom where they want to see Israel returned  to sovereignty and Rome driven out.  (In scripture, Kingdom of God usually refers to the reign of God on earth. ) The answer is, it's not for you to know. As Russ points out, a message that this doesn’t negate the desire or expectation of kingdom restored, only the power to predict.

Marsha, trained in community  organizing, is taken by the use of the word  power. That is the goal of organizing, to gain power. In organizing, power is a necessity, not a negative. In Spanish, it’s the word poder, the same exact word as can, i.e. to be able. That  is the challenge ahead. 

Power to do what? Well, to witness. To Judea (the home), Samaria (hostile territory of our closest neighbors, a faith so similar to ours, our closest other ) and to the ends of the earth.  Is that Paul’s trip to Rome? Is it the mission to  the gentiles?   And what does it mean to witness?

All this takes place in a “cloud.” Which usually represents the presence and activity of God. And again takes us back to Moses on Mt.Sinai, waiting for the Ten Commandments,. And again for how long was Moses up there? Well, of course, 40 days. There is also a cloud during the Transfiguration. (Luke 9:34) and in the prediction of his second coming. (Luke 21: 27  And then shall they see the Son of man coming in a cloud with power and great glory.)

Our attention is drawn to the two men in white who speak to them 10:   While he was going and they were gazing up toward heaven, suddenly two men in white robes stood by them.  We can almost imagine them in white suits with a long white limo ready to take Jesus away. And although they are clearly angels, Luke does not say angels. While Luke speaks of angels several times and even very specifically of Gabriel once, (1:19) he only has two men in white twice. The other time being at the tomb. (Luke 24: 3-5) And both times they have questions as to why we are looking in the wrong direction:

Luke 24: 5.   “Why do you look for the living among the dead? 6He is not here; He has risen! … and 

Acts 1: “Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up toward heaven? This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.” In both cases, we’re looking to the past and Jesus has already moved on. And we’ve got work to do. The two men in white are brackets, the parentheses that contain the 40 days of the risen Christ's time on earth.

Finally, we see a glimpse of their life, spent in prayer.  There’s a list of the disciples, minus Judas Iscariot, of course.  And the mention of Mary. The last time her name appears in the New Testament.   We spend some time talking about the lack of information about her death. What was it like? Who was there? What was said? (Just as interesting to me is what was Joseph’s death like? What was the conversation like between Joseph and this adult man he had raised as his child, a boy he had not fathered? A story still to be written.)

So we are left. On our own. We are called to witness. And we are on own, but not alone. The Holy Spirit will sustain us. Not just comfort us, not just an arm around the shoulder, but the sustenance to keep us going. As Marsha says, it’s a pretty horizontal vision.  We sustain each other in the vision, in the witness. 

In the days ahead, following the virus, many churches will not be able to afford pastors and perhaps even preachers. It will be up to communities to

bear the witness in new (or perhaps very old) ways. And we will not be alone. 

                                                                                                       

        

Seventh Sunday in Easter: One

5/8

Singing with Daniel from Lebanon

John 17: 20-26 from the Message by Eugene Peterson

I’m praying not only for them
But also for those who will believe in me
Because of them and their witness about me.
The goal is for all of them to become one heart and mind—
Just as you, Father, are in me and I in you,
So they might be one heart and mind with us.
Then the world might believe that you, in fact, sent me.
The same glory you gave me, I gave them,
So they’ll be as unified and together as we are—
I in them and you in me.
Then they’ll be mature in this oneness,
And give the godless world evidence
That you’ve sent me and loved them
In the same way you’ve loved me.

^24-26 Father, I want those you gave me
To be with me, right where I am,
So they can see my glory, the splendor you gave me,
Having loved me
Long before there ever was a world.
Righteous Father, the world has never known you,
But I have known you, and these disciples know
That you sent me on this mission.
I have made your very being known to them—
Who you are and what you do—
And continue to make it known,
So that your love for me
Might be in them
Exactly as I am in them.

Today is Mothers’ Day.  Friday was the day of Daniel Berrigan’s funeral. Donald Trump seems to have the GOP nomination all wrapped up. Thursday was also Ascension Day…the day we celebrate Jesus leaving earth..fro the time being…after his 50 days of earthly, bodily resurrection. I remember being in Germany ‘Himmelfahrt” day, or “heaven journey”. “Fly up day”, like the Girl Scouts. And today we’re talking about ‘One” about being ‘One”…I can almost hear John Lennon:

I am he as you are he as you are me
And we are all together…..
I am the eggman
They are the eggmen
I am the walrus
Goo goo g' job

SO what is this “one” all about?

In the list of many possible meanings of the Greek word "one," it is this particular definition that applies here: "in contrast to parts, of which a whole is made up." There is a healing of past divisions explicit in such unity; the wholeness is created through Christ, which is non-existent otherwise. The famous verse from Galatians is a fitting example of the fervent prayer of Jesus for his followers both present and yet to come: "There is no longer Jew nor Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are in one in Christ Jesus." Ephesians 4 comes to mind, too. "There is one body and one Spirit ... one hope ... one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all." (Presbyterian Outlook)

All well and good. But so what?  Our society feels far from one. The greatest income disparity since Teddy Roosevelt and JP Morgan.  The super rich don’t even want to see people not like them.  (That’s the worst)  I believe what we see in the current election is vast numbers of people saying it just doesn't work for them anymore and that they’ve lost all hope in things as they are.

While I don’t believe that Trump supporters and Sanders supporters are two sides of the same  coin, both are expressing frustration. 

I really enjoyed Andrew Sullivan’s article in New York, where he wrote with empathy about the abandoned white collar voters who back Trump. I was especially touched when he wrote about how it feels when you’re barely able to hold onto the bottom rung of the economic ladder and up and coming young Ivy League men tell you to “check your privilege” and look down on you. Somewhere along the identity politics line the Democrats abandoned the working class.

We are NOT one, we are divided.

Since we’ve settled sexual identity issues in our church, new divisions are appearing:  big vs. small, rich v poor, the churches that are doing well and have pastors and the vast majority that do not.

We are not ONE.

Signs..do we see signs? Donald Trump wants to build a “beautiful wall”…in Acts, the wall comes

down…

We’ve had as special friends the Seed group and Open Choir. Friday night, I attended their One Day; a Festival… in the Samuel Freedman Home.  (Itself an interesting story…built by Samuel Freedman during the depression days for broke millionaires, today housing neighborhood programs and housing for artists….) There was :

A Cuban bamba group

An African-American drum circle of young people from the South Bronx

An African-American gospel choir from a South Bronx Catholic Church

A Garifuna choir from the same church…

Oh…and me!

What moved me was the connections that had been made…these young people actors and musicians from all over the world accepted as full brothers and sisters by deeply Christian folk…and followers of Yoruba rooted religions…not judging, just feeling the inner connections…sharing each others music and dance…remaining themselves with their own unique backgrounds but also ONE at the same time…

At the Samuel Freedman home

When I do weddings, two candles  remain lit. The families  of origin always remain…even as the new family begins…the couple becomes one even as they remain themselves..

Oneness implies reconciliation. More than letting bygones be bygones. This summer, at our PC(USA) General Assembly, there will be an overture (taken to New York City Presbytery by West-Park and Jan Hus…) calling for an apology to the LGBTQ community for years of exclusion.  The Covenant Network, tall steeple liberals, have declined to support it because it is “divisive.” More Light, on the other hand has called for a Truth and Reconciliation Commission, like South Africa. To begin by telling stories. And listening. Sometimes all people ask is to be heard..

This church. Are we divided? Hmmm. Not sure. We certainly have lost people over  the years. What would reconciliation look like? Would it even be possible? Is there a first step? What would being one look like? Feel like?  If you have  any thoughts, let me know…

In the meantime, let us seek to find that place of being one…

                                                                                    ****

As it is Mother's Day, here is the original Mother's Day proclamation from Julia Ward Howe, before it be came sentimentalized...

Arise, then, women of this day! Arise all women who have hearts,
whether our baptism be that of water or of fears!

Say firmly: "We will not have great questions decided by
irrelevant agencies. Our husbands shall not come to us, reeking
with carnage, for caresses and applause. Our sons shall not be
taken from us to unlearn all that we have been able to teach
them of charity, mercy and patience.

We women of one country will be too tender of those of another
country to allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs. From
the bosom of the devastated earth a voice goes up with our own.
It says "Disarm, Disarm! The sword of murder is not the balance
of justice."

Blood does not wipe our dishonor nor violence indicate possession.
As men have often forsaken the plow and the anvil at the summons
of war, let women now leave all that may be left of home for a
great and earnest day of counsel. Let them meet first, as women,
to bewail and commemorate the dead.

Let them then solemnly take counsel with each other as to the
means whereby the great human family can live in peace, each
bearing after their own time the sacred impress, not of Caesar,
but of God.

In the name of womanhood and of humanity, I earnestly ask that a
general congress of women without limit of nationality may be
appointed and held at some place deemed most convenient and at
the earliest period consistent with its objects, to promote the
alliance of the different nationalities, the amicable settlement
of international questions, the great and general interests of
peace.

Julia Ward Howe
Boston 
1870

Ascension

5/20

The sanctuary still has the afterglow of yesterday’s wedding. 

I’ve got to get over my sense of disorientation from the loss of a cellphone and numerous other mixed emotions. As usual, Teddy and Chris have everything ready.

At the beginning of the service, I read the story if the Ascension from Acts 1. Then pull out the guitar and sing, I’ll fly away:

Some glad morning when this life is o'er, I'll fly away; To a home on God's celestial shore, I'll fly away (I'll fly away). [Chorus] I'll fly away, Oh Glory I'll fly away; (in the morning) When I die, Hallelujah, by and by, I'll fly away (I'll fly away). When the shadows of this life have gone, I'll fly away; Like a bird from prison bars has flown, I'll fly away (I'll fly away) Just a few more weary days and then, I'll fly away; To a land where joy shall never end, I'll fly away (I'll fly away)

As a response with Psalm 1, I have us sing the refrain:

 We shall not, we shall not be moved, we shall  not, we shall not be moved

just like a tree, planted by the water, we shall not be moved.

And...

No, no, no nos moveran; no, no, no no moveran

Como un arbol firme junto al rio, no nos moveran.

and explain it is both a spiritual and an old union song. Make any verse you want...Black and white together, the union is united...

And then after we read the scriptures, Acts 1: 15-7, 21-26 and John 17:12-19. I begin the reflection. 

This is the Sunday following the Feast of the Ascension...One of those gateway days like Christ the King, and Transfiguration, leading us from one liturgical season to the next..I remember when I was in Germany on this day. Himmelfahrt, they called it, IE, heaven bound, heaven journey...It’s still a .public holiday...I’m not sure what that means in an essentially secular society like Germany today. it always comes 40 days after Easter.

We’ve been talking about resurrection living...What does it mean to be resurrected? Are  we ready to claim new life? As individuals, as a church? In the context of the risen Christ present in our midst.

So now we make a shift...how do we live when the visible presence gone? The ascension leaves the disciples in an in between space....

Part of what they have to do is replace Judas...and this Judas  story is different than the other Judas story, the one where he hangs himself. Here he takes his coins, buys a field, and falls headlong into it, bursting open and his bowels pouring out. (No wonder the lectionary skips those verses.)

Pretty soon we’re into all kinds of sketchy stuff....Like all this  happened to fulfill the scriptures...what? Psalm 41:10 says:

Even my trusted friend,

who ate my bread,

has raised his heel against me.

Most of us know what that feels like, and I’m sure David did too. But I can almost  guarantee that David had no thought in his head about Judas when he wrote that Psalm....

And the whole fulfill business gets too crazy for me... finding random verses scattered throughout the Hebrew Scriptures as if it were the gospel according to Nostradamus...or Jean Dixon. I’m not sure  where or ...how...I fit in such a world...

Still there is this fascination with Judas..whether it’s in Kazantszakis’ Last Temptation  where they are boyhood friends (along with Mary Magdalene) or Jesus Christ Super Star, we don’t want to let him go. We want to understand him. In recent years we have discovered the Gospel of Judas. In this gnostic gospel, Jesus needed someone very special to fulfill this role...and only Judas was strong enough and spiritually mature enough to fulfill the role. 

It’s fun to think about, but the real point here  is succession. They needed to be 12 again.... I wonder..what if every time we lost someone, church member,  one way or another, we didn’t rest until they were replaced?  If that became the priority?

( Though I am convinced that God brings the  people we need to us...)

But back to the weird...the casting of lots....I just read where an election in Texas was just settled by a coin toss...I remember when the church where my dad was choir director merged with another church. Who would be the new choir director? Someone suggested casting  lots as a Biblical solution. My dad said no way. (And wound up being named choir director.) Makes me wonder why Presbyterians have always been so opposed to games of chance..

The bottom line is, here it is about two people we’ve never heard of. It’s about ordinary people  called to do extraordinary things...that’s where we come in

I’m also troubled by what I read in John...all this in the world/not in the world...It’s where the Lutherans get their kingdom of heaven/kingdom of earth dichotomy. (Luther said he’d rather be governed by a wise Turk than a dumb Christan.) And Presbyterians their social vision rooted in a world over which God has dominion. When I was a kid, I remember singing, This is my father's world...

What we have here is John’s cosmic Christ..The one who is preexistant, who drops down for awhile then goes back up. For me, here, this world, is enough...the other place we belong to is  the place of liberation...from whatever oppresses us..occupation, slavery, poverty, addiction....mental illness....none of this define us. Our true self is deeper, beyond that....That’s what i think it means...

So what then are we to do? Obama said it the other day, We know what to do, do we have the will? ...Jesus says, you’ve seen how to live, will you?That is the question that goes with us as Jesus leaves us without his physical presence...Will we? That is out own journey to take....

Our final hymn is Guide my feet. As i look around the circle, it;s good to see Don back from China. Jennifer back again. Wondering how Glen’s dog and Anna’s dog will get along. We close with our Caribbean Halle, halle, hallelujah...

Making a sale

Chris and Runi

We have not had time to plan for this year’s Amsterdam Avenue Street Festival, but Teddy and Chris and Runi quickly organize a clothing/book sale. And mainly enjoy just dealing with folks on the street. 

Late in the afternoon, it’s Leonel’s concert. To benefit the church. It begins with Josh the Juggler. The Leonel sings some songs, Hoagy Carmichael & co. And then it’s Joan’s Seven Ages of Woman, a feminine twist on Shakespeare’s Seven Ages of Man. It’s Joan, her daughter Dee Dee and granddaughter Emily and narrator Nydia. It’s clever, well written, classic Broadway style. The audience shares its appreciation with Joan.

The show ends with folksinger Richard Corrie. (That’s right.) Accompanying himself on autoharp. 

They deserved more people. But who they did get was wonderful. Lots of older folks, peace movement veterans. The old Peace Action folk who used to meet here at West-Park. Joan herself a founder of Grandmothers Against the War and  the Granny Peace Brigade. Allow me to say, saints....

And afterwards, I meet women who had been a part of the planning team here for the march against nuclear proliferation in 1982 that drew over a million to NYC. One of them is pressing me to do something about human trafficking. Tell him who we are, her friend says. Turns out they’re sisters of the Sacred Heart, those senior citizen nuns so devoted to the poor they’ve drawn the ire of the pope. These women who stood with Dan Berrigan in exile are not about to be cowed by a straight laced German pope and a hierarchy that it's out of touch  with the streets.

It’s been an honor to have them here. To hear their experience of West-Park. And our opportunity to carry that legacy on.

Ascension Sunday: I'm here because I read your blog

6/5/11

Andre is waiting for me when I arrive. A quick look around is disheartening, it's going to take awhile to clean up. Someone has created a bed out of cardboard including a styrofoam pillow. As I’m sweeping, someone in line at Barney Greengrass says, Spring cleaning? No, I say, more like everyday cleaning. Then I lift up my head and bang into  the cross bar of the scaffolding. Painful in more  than one way. 

I leave Andre minding the store and head down the street to pick up the bulletins and get bread and juice for communion. Back in the church, I remember that the communion table was moved up a set of stairs for the  Friday night concert. Looking around at all that needs to be done, I realize, I can’t do this alone.  I do my best to make things presentable for 11 AM. Anxiety rising.

There are two visitors, a man and a woman in different pews. Anxiety rising more. What will they think? Will they be disappointed? Why can’t more people be here?  Slowly our people are arriving. 

I have Andre play some piano while I scurry around and finish preparation. Take a breath. Begin.

Just before I read the Ascension story, we pass the peace. The man who is visiting shakes my hand.He’s Doug from Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. I’m here because I read your blog, he says. And all of a sudden, I’m not worried anymore. He knows exactly who we are. And that’s why he’s here. I can relax, be myself.  Made my day.

It’s Ascension Sunday. I ask if anyone was ever a Brownie. (The visitor holds up her hand.)What was it called when you went from being a Brownie to a Girl Scout? Fly up day. Sort of what Ascension Day is  about. 

One of those portal Sundays through which we pass from one season to the next. Like Christ the King at the end of ordinary time. Transfiguration at the end of Epiphany. This is our portal to Pentecost.

So as Jesus is preparing them for his leaving, the question of the disciples is yet again, Lord will you now restore the Kingdom to Israel? They still so don’t get it. They’re still looking for Superman. Someone says, are we still looking for Superman?  And without hesitation I say, no, not this group. 

And I recall our history from the  real estate  deal that would have solved everything to its going away in the face of landmarking and the economy to the proposed sale and merger to deciding to come back to reclaiming the church, inch by inch, step by step. Every new bathroom cleaned and ready a victory won by the work of our own hands. Not waiting for Superman. Not this group.

So why did Jesus have to ascend? Fly up? Why couldn’t he stay around awhile, you  know, help us get organized? I recall the movie Harold and Maude. Harold gives Maude a ring and she holds it gently and  then throws it into the water. Shocked, Harold asks how she could do that. That’s so I’ll always know where it is, she says. 

As long as Jesus is here in earthly form, despite his capacity to pass through walls and all, he is still bound by time and space. Once he’s ascended, he can be every place at the same time. In me, in you...

The disciples keep looking up. Why are you looking up? The angels ask. It’s not up there, it’s down here. Here is where the action is. Here is where we live out, become together the living body of the risen Christ.  Which we will celebrate later as we share communion. It’s not the bread and wine  that is transformed, It is us, we who are transformed. 

We share the bread and cup. We sing In Christ there is no East or West, in English and Spanish. Make our circle. Say Alleluia, Amen! Sing Amen. The service is over. 

Danielle is taking a fire safety expert through the building. She takes a break to meet with the session. Talk about possible rentals. Our need for a dehumidifier. Outside signs. The Session also prepares for the dramatic Presbytery meeting coming up tomorrow night. And decides to invite Presbytery to meet here in November. We’ve got a meeting space. A room to eat dinner. Three bathrooms. And we have wi-fi. 

I take a break. Go visit Philip at his work at the Michalski Residence . Talk with him and Guillermo on the steps. Haven’t seen Guillermo since we left SPSA. I miss him. And we talk about Ruby. I tell him how her old friend Irene was lifted up among the saints by the More Light movement  following the victory. 

Fred from Jane’s church comes to check out our sound situation and see what can be done.  Get us ready for our concerts. It's been along day. Amazing how I can go from anxiety and be lifted into a space where it’s good, where worship really happens. And then, inevitably, the anxiety back again.