An open letter to colleagues and friends following yesterday's Martin Luther King, Jr. Day march for Peace and Justice...

Post MLK day thoughts…

First, a thank you to all my colleagues and their congregations for welcoming our 13^th annual march. And for all the prayers and music that was offered. And for the specificity of the prayers. For the young people and children who participated in our event.  For the songs led by Arden. And the continuing presence of the spirit of Father Mike, even in his absence. (I kept expecting to see him at any moment…) And for the visible presence of Captain Mallon of the 24^th Precinct, in uniform. His walking with us was an unexpected “win” and I’m sure a result of our hour and a half conversation last Friday.

And thanks for all the work that went in before the march, including Tony’s challenging email, the hours of conversation and planning and the hard work with the police precinct personnel. I am convinced, that at least in our precinct, we chose the right path. The beginning of a closer relationship of openness and trust that hopefully will serve us in the days ahead if we continue to nurture it. On the one hand, the police were accepting of our need to question and challenge. And they were ultimately trusting enough of our integrity to come prepared to march with us, without any pre-agreements of signs or messaging.  For all this we can give thanks.

But I want to challenge us to go deeper. Given the events of the last several months across the country and here in New York City, this year’s MLK march came at a time unlike any others over these last 13 years. Even confronting the war in Iraq did not walk us into controversial community territory. Nor did demanding food justice. But this year is different. And the recent reminder of the Selma to Montgomery march through the movie Selma is a call to us to not misrepresent who Dr. King was, the reality of that movement and what faithfulness to Dr. King’s dream calls us to today.

The complexity of the moment is revealed in the kaleidoscope of yesterday’s events. At noon yesterday, another group of interfaith colleagues met at First Corinthian and then 2^nd Canaan Baptist with families of those who have lost fathers, brothers and sons. A solemn procession of mourners in funereal black would walk 4 miles to the United Nations, believing we are experiencing injustice of a national magnitude. Worthy of international attention.

In other cities there were die-ins. And around the country several gatherings like ours, including the SCLC’s!...were disrupted by younger activists feeling that the legacy of Dr. King has been coopted and tamed.  And they have a point.

This is our context:

* Last fall, when our church lifted up Ferguson, one of our African-American members, a Korean war vet, went home to get his sign, Ferguson We Stand With You. That was before Eric Garner. It has been and will continue to be true that a death of a black man anywhere in this country will be experienced as a death everywhere in this country, despite differences in any particular precinct or even city wide department.

* When officers Ramos and Liu were murdered, not on any dangerous duty, but simply on routine patrol, our officers felt under attack. Including members of my congregation, two young Latino children of immigrants, seeking to both have good jobs but also legitimately serve a city that they loved, and live out the values they had learned in church.

As tempting as it is to say, in the words of Rodney King, can’t we all just get along, or both sides feel attacked, it’s time to understand one another and move on, …No, we can’t. The family of Eric Garner still awaits justice. And the example of Latin American countries who after dirty wars just declared amnesty and moved on as opposed to South Africa where the Truth and Reconciliation Commission allowed victims to be truly heard is instructive. It’s not simply a matter of understanding. There can be no understanding without analysis of who has the power to do what to whom. Or, in the words of Dr. King,  “Power without love is reckless and abusive, and love without power is sentimental and anemic. Power at its best is love implementing the demands of justice,  ...” There can be no reconciliation without reconstruction of the basic relationships.

And this too is context:

* Black people today are incarcerated at a rate higher than in apartheid South Africa and the income disparity in the US is greater than in apartheid South Africa at it’s peak.

* There are more young black men between the ages of 18-25 in prison than in college.

* If you are a black male without a high school degree, there is an 85% chance you will be incarcerated.

* At equal rates of use, 65% of drug arrests, 75% of prosecution and 85% of convictions are from the black community.

* Any one convicted of a felony loses their right to vote.

These are systemic issues, and the police, rightly or wrongly, are seen as the agents and enforcers, and most visible face of that system.

So even though, indeed, all lives matter, one can see why voices feel compelled to cry out that black lives matter…

The movie Selma reminds us that Dr. King pursued voting rights not as an end in jtself, but as the best way to respond to the lynchings and murders of blacks (and others who stood with them) because that was the only way to gain entry into the jury system that allowed murderers to go free. For that reason, he was resolute when even a supportive President told him to be patient.

Sadly, we do not yet have a single focus as clearly defined as voting rights. (And even that is no longer secure…)The specific agenda is still being defined.  We in New York City have the opportunity to be at the vanguard of that critical clarification and response.

As we marched yesterday, we sang songs of a struggle. I reflected on that and wondered if we sing in the spirit of nostalgic memory or active engagement? When we respond to What do we want? Justice. When do we want it? Now. Is that a liturgy of remembrance or a passionate plea?

I don’t have the answers. But I do know this…we can’t wait for another Dr. King. We must ask ourselves, as faith leaders, what would he be saying today, what would he be doing? And find the words and deeds within ourselves to be faithful…

Thanks again for a great day…and may we hold each other accountable

In peace and justice

Bob Brashear

That's all one...

12/16

Stairwell Theatre 12th Night Jam

12/16
I hear music in the sanctuary. Sam G is at the piano, practicing for his Twelfth Night Jam coming up Thursday, working o  original arrangements of Shakespeare songs.

12/17

Representatives of Broadway Bound kids are in looking for time and space.

Gregory  makes another of his visits, just looking for metrocard money.

I explain to Charles that as long as the front doors are open, it’s OK with me if Geoffrey sleeps in the church. He occasionally sleeps up at Elise’s Advent church as well.

On the other hand, the sleeping  man outside, the one who looks like a mean Uncle Ben, needs to go. He’ s on the sidewalk, between our steps and Barney Greengrass. Completely wrapped up in a comforter, with various debris around him.

12/18

Back after a breakfast at Union with representatives from Ferguson.  It’s clear that we clergy are not the leaders here. Like so much else, we need to be chaplains, and in accompaniment.  But the young folks on the street are already way ahead of us. With Occupy veterans providing logistical support. The morning  ended with another die-in, this time on Broadway and 120^th.

David S tries to help me with the sleeping man . But he pops up, gets very hostile. Tells us to do what we gotta do. Which is call Project Reachout and then ultimately the police, who do succeed in getting him to move on. Even though we are responsible for the sidewalk, it is still public.

An Irish artist looking for space.

Another emergent church (with Baptist roots) in looking  for major worship time space. They’ve got 4 services, 800 members.   Still amazes me. Not quite sure what to make of that.

Pat meets with an arts group with desire for major space. Their own house has lots share of intrigue.

Sam

There’s a low turnout for Sam’s  Stairwell Theatre 12^th Night Jam. Maybe it’s the winter and cold weather. (Well, that’s As You Like It..) the night begins by giving an explanation of the day. The end of Christmas. A night of revelry and role reversal, tricks and pranks. The play itself probably written for a revel.

There are songs. And monologues. And games. And mustaches. Mulled wine and bags of treats. Ending of course, with Feste’s song. (…the rain it raineth every day…)There’s a warmth in the darkness of the sanctuary.

(As for music, I always remember the wistful, melancholy, magical score written by the Brooklyn band Hem for the 2009 Shakespeare in the park production…)

Then comes time for sharing. I work my way through Robert Earl Keen’s Merry Christmass from the family, still rough. And later Blue eyes cryin’ in the rain… A couple from Guatemala shares crafts and a song.

I feel like Sam is really on to something with his format. Just needs more people. (Believe me Sam, I’ve been there…) and finding the right way to  get them there.

….that’s all one, our play is done….

How Much of This Are We Supposed to Take?

12/1



The Riverside orchestra fills the sanctuary for their rehearsal.



12/2



I began the day at the Federation of Protestant Welfare Organizations with my            friends from the SWEAT campaign. (I finally learned that SWEAT stands for               Securing Wages Earned Against Theft..) We’ve come to one of the largest oldschool  antipoverty agencies in the city to seek their support for a bill in Albany to stop wage theft. At  least we’ve succeeded in getting the concept into the public consciousness. 


Pat O is in to review everything we’ve got to be dealing with
this week. Wanting to  get construction
underway before the weather is too far gone.


The Mass Incarceration Network has called an emergency meeting. Wanting to rally  their supporters to join in the ongoing Ferguson demonstrations. The meeting was      called for West-Park but got changed to SPSA so we have a steady stream of people  coming in looking for the meeting. The last one through is Noche Diaz, a young    leader in the struggle against  the NYPD stop and frisk policy. He is definitely unpopular with the NYPD so early in the Ferguson protests he was singled out and taken off the streets. A steady stream of phone calls to Central Booking got  him out.


My son Nate comes by to take me to dinner for my birthday,coming up tomorrow.



12/3



I get to the office after walking back home from lectionary study then busing in. I just miss    Jeremy and Priska. It’s one of those days…Russ waited for an hour not realizing our meeting was for Thursday and I double booked and forgot both meetings. It’s a bit of an off birthday.



I was at a meeting at presbytery about Ferguson and our response. Only 4 of us were there.   My friend Cornell the only African-American. Trust is low. New York City Hair barbershop  and salon brings another arrangement of fresh flowers. They’ve doing this for about a month now.



I’ll go to the Composer’s Concordance Concert in honor of Anton Webern’s birthday and feel happy to get a name check the end of the concert. Me and Anton.



Then I’ll meet up with Pat O to hear love music. The verdict
comes in. The Grand Jury brings no indictment against the NYPD officer who
threw a chokehold on Eric Garner on Staten     
Island. The one they called a gentle giant went down. Told them
he couldn’t breathe. He lay there. No
one offered CPR. Everyone’s seen the video. (http://www.theguardian.com/us-news/video/2014/dec/04/i-cant-breathe-eric-garner-chokehold-death-video)
An unbelievable verdict. I look outside on Amsterdam Avenue. A steady stream of    people hitting the streets. 



My friend Sekou will post on Facebook, How much of this are
supposed to take?

Awakening 2: the first Sunday in Advent, from Lament to Hope

11/30

Robin Rhodes, Bob Brashear, Angela Lamb, Olivia Harris

40/60 is here, ready to rehearse. They’ve come from Boston and Washington to reunite here at West-Park. Jeremy M arrives soon after.

There are quite a few visitors. One an old man I never do get to meet. There’s a woman who raises her hand in praise. I’ll be watching her for reactions. Turns out the parents of 40/60 have also all travelled here from different places to be here for the service and afternoon concert.

Pat and Larry are here early to decorate again and Pat has brought the three purple and one white candles for the Advent wreath.

We’ve got to cover Ferguson and Advent today.  We begin with O COME, O COME EMMANUEL.  Jeremy explains that it’s from the 12^th Century. And I add that the third verse, the one about war ceasing and filling the whole world with peace was written by Henry Sloane Coffin, father of William, former Yale Chaplain during my time there and Riverside pastor, at the start of World War I.

I’ve written my own words for the LIGHTING of THE ADVENT CANDLE:   

One: Our brothers and sisters are not yet free. Like captives and exiles in their own land, they mourn the loss of children with inconsolable grief.

All: We light this candle in solidarity. We light this candle to light the path from lament to hope. To the day of true emancipation when all will live in freedom.

We begin our scriptures with ISAIAH 64: 1-9 and follow with 40/60’s first

MUSICAL REFLECTION. Jeremy has written a  sung response for Psalm 80: 1-7, 17-19:

O come Lord, come; restore and save us now. After MARK 13: 24-37, we go into When the saints come marchin’ in with its apocalyptic language.

And then I begin my REFLECTION.    It’s been a hard week.  What you might call a kairos moment…where our normal chronos is interrupted…a week where the heavens are torn open…(Isaiah 64:1) There was the verdict in Ferguson. Then people exploded. Fires blazed. In New York City, tunnels, bridges, highways shut down. Shopping malls across the country. While protests in Ferguson have been building for weeks, there were spontaneous outcries across the country…

Friday was the traditional start for the shopping season, Black Friday. But another cry went up:  Black lives matter…If you saw Nicholas Kristof’s op ed this morning in the Times,(http://www.nytimes.com/2014/11/30/opinion/sunday/nicholas-kristof-when-whites-just-dont-get-it-part-5.html) you got some insight into the emotions of the time:

Black men are 21 times more likely to be killed than white men

Imprison higher percentage of our black population  of than apartheid South Africa.

There is now greater income disparity  in than in 1970 South Africa  at the peak of apartheid

As the children of Israel lifted up their lament from their Babylonian exile, it  easy to understand how our black citizens might feel abandoned…in captivity…

O come Emmanuel we sang…lonely exile, captivity..it has been said that what is happening now is not a renewal of the civil rights movement but a movement for the emancipation of oppressed….

Every Advent is three at the same time:

Historic, as in the birth of Jesus

Existential, as we move towards this season’s celebration of Christmas, the incarnation, God coming  to be  present in human flesh, in the midst of humanity

And future…the Second coming, or the day of emancipation, of liberation, of the coming of the  beloved community.

It is our challenge to move from our lament to hope.

That Jim Wallis quote again, to be able to believe  in spite of the evidence and the courage to make the evidence change.

Archbishop Tutu at the peak of apartheid affirming we have already won

Martin Luther King, Jr. saying that the arc of history is long but it bends towards justice

The liberatory power of black worship that created zones of liberation in the midst of slavery and oppression  giving sustaining power for the long struggle for true emancipation.

It is our work as followers of Jesus to create those outposts of the kindom, those liberated zones where people can taste and see and experience the freedom, the victory that is to come. That is the journey we invite you on in as we begin this season. I’m not even sure I know what all that means but it begins with a commitment to go there. And that we journey together.

We need a coming. We await a coming. Not for a new one to come. But to find  Emmanuel already in our midst. On the other side of our lament, hope…

As I concluded, before 40/60 played again, I asked Olivia to speak about how they experience the sharing  of their music as reflection on what is going on around us. And she explained her feeling of anger and frustration as she marched in Boston  and the moving of music through their instruments.  The non-didactic, expression of lament and hope.

Before our prayers, we sang as 40/60 played, from Isaiah 64:8:

Change my heart O God, make it ever true                                                                                        Change my heart O God, may I be like you.                                                                                         You are  the potter, I am the clay                                                                                                         Mold me and make me, this is what I pray.

Then I had John R and Dion bring our ceramic baptism cover from Occupy days. I showed it’s words of peace. And the crack. How its creator (Sheryl Jaffe) had said we were about healing the cracks in the world. And how I later learned of the Japanese tradition of always needing an imperfection as a reminder of life’s (and our) imperfection.

Our final song is Ella’s Song by () Berniece Johnson Reagon. It is frightening how fitting the  words are to what is happening  today:

Refrain: 

We who believe in freedom cannot rest We who believe in freedom cannot rest until it comes 

 Verses 

Until the killing of Black men, Black mothers’ sons Is as important as the killing of   White men, White mothers’ sons And that which touches we most is that I had a          chance to work with people Passing on to others that which was passed on to me  To me young people come first, they have the courage where we fail And if I can shed some light as they carry us through the gale  The older I get the better I know that the    secret of my going on Is when the reins are in the hand of the young who dare to run against the storm  Not needing to clutch for power, not needing the light just to shine on me I need to be just one in the number as we stand against tyranny  Struggling     myself don’t mean a whole lot I come to realize That teaching others to stand up and  fight is the only way my struggle survive  I’m a woman who speaks in a voice and I   must be heard At time I can be quite difficult, I’ll bow to no man’s word 

In the honor of powerful grassroots organizer Ella Josephine Baker, 1903-1986.

I go off to have brunch with my boys and return for 40/60’s concert. The gym is full  of supportive friends and family and they give us an afternoon of passionate,               inventive and intense music including a musical interpretation of Ulam’s Spiral, the    revelatory graphic representation  of  the correlation of prime numbers. By their          teacher David Mc Bride. 
Ulam's Spiral 

It was warm enough today that      people were eating brunch at the   outdoor café tables. The late          afternoon  sun washes through as   the music fills the room. 

A good end to the day….
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