The 3rd Sunday in Easter: Have you anything to eat?

4/19

The PDA volunteer work crew from Sacramento Presbytery

Today we have our friends from the Sacramento Presbytery with us. We’ve got 8 volunteers from the Presbyterian Disaster Assistance program to do a week’s worth of reconstruction work with us, under the leadership of my longtime friend Jeanie. (Marsha finds it a fun thought that we qualify as a Presbyterian disaster.) Andre has come to lend his voice and jazz musician Adam Birnbaum is our musician.

Pat and Larry decorated again

As we do throughout Easter, we begin with Alleluias. And the traditional greeting:

One: Christ is risen!

All: Christ is risen indeed!

Our first hymn is  Come Ye Faithful Raise the Strain. And for the first time in a long time, we get one of Andre’s jazz improvs on Psalm 4. Today’s gospel reading is LUKE 24:36B-48

Jesus himself stood among them and said to them, “Peace be with you.” ³⁷They were startled and terrified, and thought that they were seeing a ghost. ³⁸He said to them, “Why are you frightened, and why do doubts arise in your hearts? ³⁹Look at my hands and my feet; see that it is I myself. Touch me and see; for a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have.” ⁴⁰And when he had said this, he showed them his hands and his feet. ⁴¹While in their joy they were disbelieving and still wondering, he said to them, “Have you anything here to eat?” ⁴²They gave him a piece of broiled fish, ⁴³and he took it and ate in their presence

⁴⁴Then he said to them, “These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you — that everything written about me in the law of Moses, the prophets, and the psalms must be fulfilled.” ⁴⁵Then he opened their minds to understand the scriptures, ⁴⁶and he said to them, “Thus it is written, that the Messiah is to suffer and to rise from the dead on the third day, ⁴⁷and that repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. ⁴⁸You are witnesses of these things.”

I start my reflection with the question:

Have you seen Jesus this week?   Just wondering…was he on one of the posters of the victims of police shootings at the rally last Tuesday at Union Square? With Cornel West and Eve Ensler and Arturo O’Farrill? Did he spend the night in jail? Was he with the one who came in to my office last week, the one who we helped find housing who said you helped me can you help him? Asking me to contact our Reachout friends and write a letter to help get his friend a place to live. Passing it on, you might say. Or was he the one who needed a home? Was he at the PCUSA DC training on Mass Incarceration last Friday? Maybe a cell mate of my friend whose 39 year old son has been in since age 17? Or did he come from Sacramento with a hammer and paintbrush? Have you seen Jesus this week.?

Rising…resurrection living…that’s our topic, that’s our theme…today the question is…do you have anything to eat? We’re looking at what the disciples saw, reported…

Let’s set the context….after Easter morning, in the late afternoon, two unsuspecting characters were walking along the road to Emmaus and were taken by surprise by a stranger. And they walk and talk and ask the stranger to stay for dinner and when he breaks bread, they recognize him…like Mary needed to heart her voice, and Thomas needed to see the wounds, it’s this familiar act, they must have shared with him so many times….those must have been great meals, not the food so much, but the fellowship…during the revolution in Nicaragua, the usual form of address was companero, the one I break bread with …like our word companion…with the Latin word for bread in the middle..Jesus was before all else, their companero, the one they shared bread with…and in that act, they knew him..

So the two guys, already late in the day, walk the seven miles back to Jerusalem…anxious to tell the disciples…and all of a sudden, Jesus is there…don’t ask how he got there…and he says, Shalom….peace…

And how do they respond? ³⁷They were startled and terrified, and thought that they were seeing a ghost.

And how does he respond? As he did to Thomas…

Why are you frightened, and why do doubts arise in your hearts? ³⁹Look at my hands and my feet; see that it is I myself. Touch me and see; for a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have.” 

And although they feel joy, it was too much to believe…so what does Jesus do? He asks for something to eat…(It’s been a pretty long day after all…) And they offer him broiled fish. (Several were after all, fishers…) And he eats….

What is the gospel writer trying to tell us? That this was a flesh and blood rising…even this risen, resurrected one could hunger and need food and nourishment…that just as Christmas was about incarnation, so too is Easter…God made flesh…(John puts this story on a beach…at breakfast…here, we’re still on Easter night..)

And then he connects his story with the Bible story they all know…and before he’s done, tells them to take this story to all nations…as witnesses…that’s what it means to be a disciple…to be  a witness….

So what is this supposed to tell us about our rising? Our resurrection living?

First of all, it’s not about metaphor. We are being challenged with flesh and blood reality. Go wrestle with that. There’s no how here. There may be a why. But at the end, it’s just an IS.

Believe me, I have struggled with that my whole adult life. Je suis Thomas,  le incredule…I survived for years on the power of metaphor…but I feel I’m starting to get it… it has to be flesh and blood….

And we are to be witnesses…what do we witness? How do we witness? It’s got to be flesh and blood real.. He asking for something to eat…

My Easter ended perfectly with the meal we served at the women’s homeless shelter…no fish this time, though Kate can put out  mean salmon…but we did have lamb and ham..he wants  to break bread…he wants to walk the road with us…he wants a place for the night to rest his head…and yes, he wants to breathe…

SO your job for next week? See if you see Jesus…maybe carry a notebook, or just put a memo on your smart phone…

I want to close with a poem by John Updike, not usually one of my favorites, but with this one he took me by surprise…

Seven Stanzas at Easter

Make no mistake: if He rose at all
it was as His body;
if the cells’ dissolution did not reverse, the molecules
reknit, the amino acids rekindle,
the Church will fall.

It was not as the flowers,
each soft Spring recurrent;
it was not as His Spirit in the mouths and fuddled
eyes of the eleven apostles;
it was as His flesh: ours.

The same hinged thumbs and toes,
the same valved heart
that–pierced–died, withered, paused, and then
regathered out of enduring Might
new strength to enclose.

Let us not mock God with metaphor,
analogy, sidestepping, transcendence;
making of the event a parable, a sign painted in the
faded credulity of earlier ages:
let us walk through the door.

The stone is rolled back, not papier-mâché,
not a stone in a story,
but the vast rock of materiality that in the slow
grinding of time will eclipse for each of us
the wide light of day.

And if we will have an angel at the tomb,
make it a real angel,
weighty with Max Planck’s quanta, vivid with hair,
opaque in the dawn light, robed in real linen
spun on a definite loom.

Let us not seek to make it less monstrous,
for our own convenience, our own sense of beauty,
lest, awakened in one unthinkable hour, we are
embarrassed by the miracle,
and crushed by remonstrance.

John Updike, 1960.

We enter into our prayers by singing

Lead me, guide me along the way

For if you lead me I cannot stray

Lord let me walk each day with thee

Lead me, O Lord, lead me

And then there’s a joyous passing of the peace all around. Andre treats us to a an artful

Fairest Lord Jesus as we pass the plates.

a circle of friendship

And we close the service with Christ is Risen Shout Hosanna to the tune of Beethoven’s Ode to joy. And it feel something like that.

After our post worship conversations, Don from Sacramento, the construction manager of the team, and I will head down to Home Depot in Chelsea to get all the supplies needed for the week’s work.

I get back to the church in time for Noche’s  final flamenco singing class. The song that begins Si alguna vez va a Cadiz a el barrio de Santa Maria, tu veras los gitanitos bailando con alegria is working its way inside of me. We’ve been working on it all week. Since it’s the last class, there are bottles of wine and Spanish sherry and cheese and later chicken. Voices are singing open and full. I learned from el maestro Juan Ogallo that you riff on the open vowels, the a’s and o’s. It’s like una ventana entro la alma…To do it on the i (sung as e in Spanish) sounds like you saw a mouse. So I did learns something. 

Talking with Juan about flamenco singing

Around 7 PM, I’m in the lobby. In the sanctuary, the francophone African fellowship is finishing it’s service with vibrant soul stirring song. Upstairs in McAlpin Hall the Stop Mass Incarceration Network is working diligently and determinedly on their next action.

The Stop Mass Incarceration Network

And in Martin’s studio, the flamenco fiesta continues. I think to myself, this is how it is supposed to be. 

The day after: you won't see that in Milwaukee

10/30

Stepping outside, it’s strange. Our neighborhood seems normal. Cool, some light rain. Here and there yellow police tape cuts off the sidewalk under scaffolding where pieces have blown off. There were loud bangs last night when pieces flew off our apartment building and the neighboring building, landing in the driveway next door, but that was all.  People are out, walking around.

Strange to feel so normal when you know that major parts of the city are without power. Parts of the subway underwater. The 14th Street power station blew up. No subways or buses. We’ve cancelled the clergy gathering we were going to host this afternoon. And the Princeton students who were supposed to visit today, who arrived in the city over the weekend,  are stranded in Brooklyn and don’t know when they’ll get out. Their leader calls me from Prospect Park talking about  how bizarre it is to see tree branches--- and whole trees---strewn about while joggers and bikers make their usual circuits.

I look to see who’s open. Of course Mani Market, the neighborhood grocer. Taki, the owner, a true rock star. Stayed open through the whole storm. Walking down Amsterdam, about evrery third business is open. Mainly bodegas. And as I expected, Barney Greengrass is the only restaurant open on the block. The line is so long, I look for another place to get my coffee, but nothing else is open. Not Dunkin Donuts, Not the Bean. Only Barney. So I go back, wait my turn. As I pay Gary, I say thanks. He smiles, then shakes his head. Time to check the church.

Martin and Teddy are working in the studio I look and see Soledad, the world famous flamenco dancer, in overalls with a paintbrush. Martin tells me they worked all day yesterday until the storm while Teddy was all over the church carrying 4 x 6’s, nailing boards over windows, making sure everything was secure. 

Teddy tells me everything was uneventful. There’s a man on the steps wrapped in plastic bags. He said that he had invited him in but he wouldn’t come in. And when I praise Teddy’s work to Jamie on the phone, he tells me that Steven had worked hard tying down outdoor garbage cans and containers. He’s not sure about the basement but Marc had been down there and had a smile on  his face when he left. I go down to check it out, and sure enough, dry as a bone. 

Martin and I talk contract again. Can we finish it this week?

Anna and Puppy come in. She’s concerned that she missed Bible Study but I tell her that we had cancelled. She’s got all kinds of instructions for me on all kinds of things but I’m not fully paying attention.  

On the one hand, the city is requiring cabs with less than 4 passengers to stop for anyone along a route they’re traveling. On the other, Teddy reports hearing from someone about cabbies charging triple fares. That’s illegal, I say. Yeah, says Teddy I told him you got two choices, call 911 or punch the guy in the face...

RL comes in. Relieved that his windows held up and no water came in. He’s been in working on his studio all day. Yesterday he and the Noche crew were working all the way up until storm time. 

Hey, I got a good one for you, he says.  I’m walking home down Amsterdam. The streets are empty. Everything’s closed, well except for the Gate. No traffic except for emergency vehicles. The wind is swirling. The rain is coming down. And I see this couple. With a dog. Bent against the wind. And the dog squats and poops. And with the wind swirling and the rain pounding the guy pulls out a plastic bag, bends over and scoops the poop. I love this city. You won’t see that in Milwaukee! He’s got that RL twinkle in his eye.

On my way home, I pass by Central Park. See it is closed. That never happens. Some determined runners are making their way in. I see lots of branches. Downed trees. Hard to assess how it compares to last time. The runners and closed park make me wonder, what about Marathon Sunday? How is that going to happen?

Later in the day, Teddy texts to tell me the man on the steps wrapped in plastic is an amputee. I’m bringin’ him in, Teddy says. 

Yes. That end of the stick.

8/13

The day is filled with Dan and Teddy working for Martin painting all the doors and woodwork around the entrance and the studio to try and make a more welcoming place. I really enjoy Dan’s presence. 

Samantha comes in needing a recommendation for a work study program. The recommendation comes easy as I’ve watched her grow and mature over 17 years. Representing us at national church youth meetings, Presbytery meetings, never afraid to speak up. And creative. 

RL wants to talk to the one who really runs things, IE, still trying to get his rehearsal place and studio together. 

No Bible Study tonight. The chapel is currently a work room. And I want to try and catch a performance of Matthew Webster’s Kingdom Come, which he rehearsed at West-Park but I never got to see because of an emergency meeting. 

8/14

While Nate and I are waiting in the line for Shakespeare in the Park tickets for Into the Woods, I get a call from Dan. Apparently it’s been a rough start to the morning and he needs to talk with me as soon as I  get there. And is there any way we can get Teddy tickets? (Well, actually, no....)

As soon as I get there, Dan comes in. Teddy had earlier encountered Edward and Charlotte pissing on the steps. As he turned the corner, he encountered a fresh deposit of feces, right where the dancers would  have to come in. (Dan was watching all this) A 9-11 call went in .Because Teddy wanted  the police to see what  was going on. But after an hour, they still hadn’t shown up and Martin needed a path cleared. 

As Teddy was beginning, they showed up again. As he tells it, in a straight forward way, he said, Look, I’m cleaning up your shit, would you maybe help me out?  And what followed included a series of fuck yous and other curses along with spit hurled at Teddy. And Teddy lost it. (Been there.) Dan said he’d never seen Teddy so angry. (Been there, too) And said to him, Teddy, just chill, just chill....and then she gets up in his face to challenge him and he looks at her and walks away. (Later he says, ah she was just posturin.’ ) Then Dan and Teddy begin the arduous task of clean up. Martin chips in to buy a hose. One that can stretch from the basement all the way to the steps. We haven’t had that in years. At one point, Dan thought Teddy was ready to turn the hose on the couple. And they quickly took off. 

Scrubbing. Clorox. Pine sol. They even did the walls. Time that could have been used moving forward, 2 1/2 hours, taken up by having to fight the way back to status quo. 

And as he works, Teddy gets angrier. We’ve got other people in the house and he consistently winds up with the shot end of the stick. (Literally) And he’s fed up with it. And wind sup going off for a nap. 

Dan is kind of shaken by all this. Has lots of questions. About sharing work. Accountability. Responsibilities. The nature of homelessness. Why we haven’t gone like BJ and SPSA and put up No Trespassing signs. Yet. (Well, no one’s set the steps on  fire yet, like at SPSA...) I wish I had more answers for him.

As for the accountability issue, that’s up to Danielle and I to get people to honor their agreements. And all should  share equally. I’m happy to hear Danielle talk about the steps. An effort to show some modicum and compassion in a neighborhood that increasingly would just like to ignore the homeless population. The mentally ill and addicts. They don’t fit the expectations of those who are trying to recreate Westchester in the Upper Westside.  I’m sorry but in this time, this is a part of what make a city a city. To choose city living is to choose complexity and being disturbed. You can’t wish it away. 

And we tell Dan that 80% of those we meet (more or less) have found housing or a rehab program through the work of our Project Outreach friends. We couldn’t do this without their help. The goal is to not close the steps but to not surrender the either. Another thin line. 

Later Teddy has rested and come down for conversation. Steven agrees to get some more help for the morning clean up and crap patrol. And at the first sign of Edward, call 911. And if they don’t show, call again. I’ve experienced enough of alcoholism to know that when it gets to this stage,  the situation is critical. I remember  the day last year when Edward had me call him an ambulance. When it arrived, he hugged me as he entered the back. 

Back outside, the Prophet is struggling to stay awake.

I wonder what he's receiving

8/11 


 One of those work Saturdays. Martin, Nayeli and I start talking about the whole process and strategy behind development, grant writing, etc. Jamie joins us and we get back to negotiating out a longer term relationship between West-Park and Noche. We're getting close. 

 Outside, the Prophet seems to have fallen asleep on the steps.He's wearing his conical hat and a long batik dress, like an African shaman.  I rouse him, he looks startled and  and immediately bows and goes into prayer. I come back later and he is standing out on the sidewalk, face towards the sun, alternately bringing his hands together in prayer and then opening his arms wide as if to receive a blessing.  I wonder what he is receiving. What it feels like. Seems to be soaking in the sun as it plays over his face. 

 Steven stops in to talk about the music we've scheduled for tomorrow, methodically working through every song. We spend a little time talking about social media and his proposal to move us forward. 

Later, Sarah comes in. She's gone to Boston to retrieve my bound dissertation after many months from her business partner, Mark. She sees Teddy and they exchange a big hug. She's also glad to meet Teddy's son for the first time.  There's a lot to catch up on. I also introduce her to Martin as the person responsible for the branding identity of the church and the Center. She knows Noche well and is impressed to find Soledad dancing in our Session room. We head to the B for conversation. Get her opinions on how things are developing. She may also have another theater group, one that she had wanted to bring in as part of our 100+ campaign, that still feels drawn to West-Park. We talk of weddings. Marketing. And her upcoming trip to Thailand. It's good for me that she still wants to feel connected. 

 Later, coming home after a movie, I find Edward asleep on the steps. Cross my fingers. Hope all will be well in the morning. 

Who we are: from tamales and pastelitos to wine and cheese

8/2

Teddy and son

Jamie drops by so that we can review where we are with developing a longer term contract with Martin and Noche Flamenca. I introduce her to Teddy’s son, Ted III, who’s in for the weekend to visit his dad  and joining him  and my son Dan in the work crew working with Martin to make the session room a studio. His temporary floor has ripped so a new solution has to be found. 

We all feel amazed when we watch Soledad Barrio, Martin’s wife dance, testing the floor ((http://www.nytimes.com/2011/09/29/arts/dance/soledad-barrio-and-noche-flamenca-joyce-theater-review.html) . Amazed to have in our house a woman who thre New York Times has called one of today’s great dancers of any genre. She finds the ruined beauty of the session room perfect for flamenco, just as it is. 

There’s the young cast of  a play in rehearsal having lunch on the steps. Dan wants to know why they’re there. Just need a break I say, need to come outside. I think its OK, them being there, he says . It’s  OK. 

I’m glad Dan is around to be part of this.

8/3 

workers share their stories

Today is one of those days that makes West-Park what it is. There’s a breakfast in McApin Hall. Tracy and the Sweatshop Free Upper Westside Campaign has invited kitchen workers from the neighborhood to gather and share their stories with one anther.  One of the workers has brought fresh made tamales for breakfast. The chili added to the masa wrapped in corn leaves is a good for a wake up. Someone else has brought pastelitos. I think back to my days with the farm workers in Oklahoma, their breakfasts of menudo, tripe stew. The t-shirts that said, menudo: el desayuno de los campeones, ie, menudo: the breakfast of champions. 

I sit and listen  as the workers tell their stories. (The meeting is all in Spanish.) Sixty to eighty hour work weeks. No overtime. Less than five dollars an hour. The Sweatshop Free folks have   not jumped into the minimum wage struggle yet. Raise the minimum wage? How about we start by paying the minimum wage...No breaks, not even for bathrooms.  No pooling or keeping tips.  Threats and anti-gay slurs used as insults. As the stories are told, heads nod. All too familiar. And it becomes very clear that they need to stand together, to be unidos, to not allow themselves to be separated from one another.  

We talk about the city wide Dominos boycott.  While I’m tweeting what I’m hearing ( @rlbrashear, #ssfuws), the West Side Rag tweets in that they’d like to know more about the  Dominos boycott. Hopefully we can get that word out.  And how Pastor Heidi and I have been threatened for our support. 

I bring Martin and Dan upstairs. Martin so that he understands where he’s moving int better, Dan so he sees the whole picture. When the meeting is over, Martin introduces himself to Tracy. Recalls interaction and relationships with people, from the UFW movement.   And he always dreams of teaching children flamenco, as part of their culture. That’s the synergy I want to have happen. 

Edward is back on the steps. This leads to a long conversation. A very long conversation. I’ve been a bit rough on him and need to be gentler. Dan watches Wants to know how I know him. His story. You ask, I say. They don’t always tell you at first, but sooner or later, if you keep trying....Gregory, the Sentinel, is silently observing all this. 

Teddy moves back and forth between Martin and RL who’s got his own work crew of David and Clifford working with him. Dan jumps in there a little, too.  When work is over, Teddy takes me across the street to the B to review the events of the day. I stay until its time for Berik’s opening.

Berik and his New York Realism friends have a new show. There are new paintings on the wall, artists and wine and cheese.  An Israeli artist has done a fantasy reflection on 86th Street with the church in the  center. 

Berik's new show opens

I look at Mc Alpin. Reflect on how this morning it was filled with Mexican kitchen workers and tamales and pastelitos and this afternoon it’s artists and wine and cheese. That’s what this place is. That’s who we are.