Because St.Patrick's

 3/16

ready for St.Patrick's Day

So with tomorrow  being St.Patrick’s Day, today has to be wearing of the green.  I’ve got a New York Mets “Irish night” hat and a baseball jersey from their Brooklyn farm team, the Cyclones. 

While the baseball lockout was still on, spring training games were cancelled until March 18th. When the agreement finally came, they pushed it back to March 17th. Mainly because St.Patrick’s Day has become a thing in baseball. It all began in 1978 when the  Cincinatti Reds caused a sensation  by wearing green caps and the wonderful cognitive dissonance of jerseys with the word Reds written in green letters. 

Since then teams like the Mets joined in and now virtually all MLB reams wear at least green hats on March 17th. It’s also a perch marketing bonanza. In my collection is a Knicks basketball jersey as well.

Finally...

And since  training has started, my coffee mug from 2019, the last "normal" year. 

Guiness and Staten Island

On the day itself, it's my Guiness soccer jersey and late lamented Staten Island Yankees Irish night hat. Special because the day after breaking five ribs I dragged myself in serious pain to the ferry and across the harbor just to get this hat.

Guinness and hamentaschen

Let us also note this year  the rare convergence of the Jewish] holiday  Purim and St.Patrick's. 

East Village

And one quite odd St.Pat's display...

Perhaps my favorite St.Patrick’s Day was 2012 “Occupy St. Patrick’s Day,” with the Occupy Wall Street march to Wall Street and then to the Irish Famine Memorial to make the point abut the voracious nature of predatory capitalism. My friends Pat and Mandola Joe played music and potatoes were handed out.  (https://west-parkpress.blogspot.com/2012/03/twentyfirst-day-of-lent-st-patricks-day.html). 

Or perhaps the next night at West Park when we gathered to bring Mexicans and Irish bands together to celebrate El Batalon San Patricio, the St. Patrick’s Battalion of US soldiers who decided they were fighting on the wrong side and went over to the Mexicans,  story celebrated in Mexico and buried in the US for more than a century. (http://west-parkpress.blogspot.com/2012/03/fourth-sunday-in-lent-vivan-los-san.html)

And this, from my Facebook post…

OK...the easy thing to do is just go all shamrocks and leprechauns and just say "Happy St.Patrick's Day everybody"...and forget that the first New York St. Patrick's Day parade was a demonstration  for respect and dignity by denigrated immigrants...and that the potato famine was not a natural disaster but the results of a nearly genocidal imperialist colonial agriculture policy by Great Britain..and that the refugees were viewed suspiciously....lived side by side by African-Americans in 5 Points and Seneca Village...until they were accepted as white..that they were disproportionately drafted..and sent to Mexico in an imperialist war...West Point's first Irish graduate John Riley took his batallion to the other side where his mainly Catholic immigrant  conscripts joined the Mexicans as el batalon san patricio. When captured, they were hung as traitors without the usual court martial trial . Honored as heroes  in Mexico. Hidden in history in the US until️ recently. El batalon san patricio presente. And happy St. Patrick's Day!

So today, hats off to the Irish, and people of struggle and resistance everywhere. 

Living in Coronavirusworld 2: Sometimes loving your neighbor is staying away

3/24

virtual St. Patrick's

Yesterday I did my Monday weekly planning at home for the first  time. I usually like to go to my favorite coffee shop, get an almond croissant and latte and plan out the week.  Last Monday, I thought I had one last day before the ordered Tuesday lockdown. But I found the shop had  already converted to takeout only, hoping to make it that way. (Now even takeout is closed.) I got my coffee and croissant and headed to A Philip Randolph Square to sit. The regulars there were in heavy conversation about “martial law,” which they figure is next. That’s how it is in Harlem.

****

Tuesday I went to my physical therapy, still open, on 54th Street.  Walking through the Turnstyle Underground Marketplace at Columbus Circle, most restaurants and food places  were still open. Takeout only, of course. Folks scattered at tables in the concourse, socially distant for the most part. 

New York City Presbytery met by ZOOM and voted to advise all Presbyterian congregations to cease all in person activity “until further notice.” The strongest opposition came from racial/ethnic congregations concerned about remaining “faithful to Christ” regardless of the danger. It took some explanation to make clear it wasn’t about ourselves accepting risk, but that our accepting risk endangers others. That sometimes loving your neighbor means staying away. As a retired pastor with a small pension and social security, I depend on guest preaching, consulting and weddings to augment my income. I began to understand that I would be losing around $1000 month in addition to my lost music gig income. It hurts. Of course, many friends have. Lost all their income. Those projected $1000 or so government checks will be a limited value.

The St.Pat hat collection

At 7pm we gather by ZOOM. The gang that accompanied theologian/activist Peter Heltzel on his annual St. Patrick’s night pub crawl. And traditional 7 PM toast. This year it would be virtual. Wearing green and with my own pint, we toasted, Peter’s son Tristan on his lap. Slainte. 

.....and no place to go....

****

At last night's ...Songwriters' Exchange, one of our youngest members sang about her lost prom and graduation .She was embarassed to put it in the song. Seemed so trivial. "No. Sing about your life," we told her. "We get to the universal through the individual. And this is your life, and your life is not trivial..." All those once in a lifetime experiences gone. 

                                             ****

Today the Center at West Park’s Program Committee met by ZOOM.  It was supposed to be about planning the next season’s residencies but had to focus on cancelled spring programming first. Productions cut off in mid-run. Possible make up in a summer Phoenix Festival? Good idea, but what can we know?

I talk with a chaplain who directs a spiritual  care program for persons with intellectual and developmental disabilities. One of only half a dozen or so programs like it in the country. As a day program, all the clients are now homebound. She has  to arrange over 180 home visits by a minimal staff.  The strain is already showing. And how long can their visits continue?

I hear noice outside. Three of my neighbors have been talking on the stoop. The police have stopped to tell then to break it up. I mean they do this under normal circumstances. It's Harlem. A younger man is quite riled. An older man, the young man told the police was "one of our elders," tries to calm him down. "Let it go,"he says, "they just doin' their job..."

The president has said he’d like to “open up for business again” by Easter. “Ready and raring to go!”  he says.  “The cure can’t be worse than the problem,” he says. What world does he live in? Of all the ignorant things he has said, for some reason this enrages me more than usual. We are so unprepared as it is.Visions of stacked bodies. And the Lieutenant Governor of Texas says that if grandparents have to put their lives at risk, even die to save the economy, he’s “all in.”  This grandparent is not. The fact that we have elected officials who think like this both offends and frightens me. Little hope that w ehe the wisdom -or will- to do what’s necessary.

Today was the 40th anniversary of Oscar Romero’s martyrdom.  Even in the midst of coronavirusworld, Oscar Romero, presente.

Fifth Sunday in Lent: Green eyes, just like Eva Gardner

3/17

Stephen, Kimberley and Andre

St. Parick’s Day. The doors are open. Stephen is waiting. On the way to 85 Copy, I run into Marty.  Happy St.Patrick’s Day, Marty. He looks up. Recognizes me. It takes a minute. 

So Reverend. Did you say a special mass for the holiday? It’s a sad day. or is it a happy day? My father was a reverend, I see you’re wearing green. My mother had green eyes, just like Eva Gardner. That’s why he married her.

Because of the green eyes?

No, she was a good cook. But when he got mad at here, he’d just stare. Right in those green eyes. 

You have a good day, OK? And he nods. 

On the way back from the copy shop, an Orthodox Jew in his black hat and beard is taking to him. And do you have matzoh? And grape juice? When are you going to get it?

I walk past. Back to church. Anna and puppy are guarding my office. When I go to set the sanctuary, she goes out to sweep the steps. I set the table with Lenten purple. Lay down my purple Guatemalan stole. Then, just for today, add my green stole. St. Patrick’s Day.

Kimberley is leading today. Stephen has learned the music and is playing the piano. And Andre has arrived to sing and lead the music. Her reflection is on the story in John where Lazarus has just been raised. A dinner is going on. Mary perfumes his feet with expensive pure nard.  And Judas, called a thief by John, complains.

Her main focus is living in the moment. How even in the shadow of the looming cross, we need to feel the joy of the moment. Allow it to fill us. Share it with each other. Celebrate in the midst of sorrow. Appreciate the people around us, now. We know not what tomorrow brings. But we are here, together, now. 

Her reflection was well thought out. Theologically coherent. Filled with touchstones of people’s lives. And seasoned with a collection of quoted from a broad variety of sources true to her Unitarian self.

Andre does a reprise of Come by here, my Lord. I say that it began with the slaves, was taken to Africa by missionaries and brought back around by Pete Seeger. Remember its role in Glen’s play, Dem Dahk Days Down South.( http://west-parkpress.blogspot.com/2012/07/it-just-doesnt-work.html )And Glen tells us his assistant Victoria has been accepted into the graduate program at NYU.  And Kimberley leads us in a rousing Shout for joy,  brightening our Lent.

Tracy has sent pastries from Joe Bar. Jamie has brought coffee. We take time to enjoy each other. Get to know Ashley, our visitor. 

Time to get the Session together. Review where we are negotiationswise. 

I’m loaded down with boxes for packing. Jame hails a cab.

I’m remembering last year. The Occupy action. Tying together the deeper meaning of St. Patrick’s, finishing at the Irish famine memorial. (http://west-parkpress.blogspot.com/2012/03/twentyfirst-day-of-lent-st-patricks-day.html) Then the next night, our celebration of el fiesta del San Patricio, with the Buskers, Joe and Pat and KT. And Carlos and his norteno band of Mexican workers. As we lifted up el batalon San Patricio, the immigrant draftees who decided they were on the wrong side and refused to fire on Mexicans. It’s good to remember. (http://west-parkpress.blogspot.com/2012/03/fourth-sunday-in-lent-vivan-los-san.html )

Que viva el batalon San Patricio. Presente!

Glen and Don

Hope, Stephen and Arcadia

Andre and Cara

Twentyfirst day of Lent: St. Patrick's Day

3/17

American Spring

Wesley and Antonia are gathering up their  belongings as I pass by. Yo, Bob, Bob...I hear George calling my name and turn. George, good morning...

Yo,that Rafael, he still workin for you, he still your security man?

Yes.

Them occupy people, they still there? Inside? 

Yes.

I heard you in  the news. Say they steal something. Some sacred thing. Say you gonna kick their asses out....

Yeah, well, it’s more complicated than that. But a smaller group, still here. 

He’s not a good security man.

What?

Those dope smokers, he tell them to move, they just laugh, go around the corner, smoke  some more...

Rasta Man’s gone, George...

Who?

The rasta man with the dreads..

Ain’t talking bout no Rasta Man . Talkin bout them young white mothafuckas. Them fools. They just laugh. Gone get us all arrested.  

That’s all over George. They’re gone. 

I’m tellin you, you need a new security guy. 

OK, George. Take care.

Inside, Don is inside working with Marc on sound issues for  his Wednesday night performance of Disenchanted...it’s looking good. 

Back outside, everything is quiet.  

Joe, KT, Pat

Tracy anf mark

The Bull

Late in the day, I come back from downtown, A day full of Occupy. Alternstive St.Patrick’s. Back to the roots. Meet at Zucotti. Mandola Joe and the Buskers. Silent procession.. Blessing potatoes. Funeral wreath at the bull. March to Battery Park. Adolfo from the Sweatshop Free speaks. Marc Greenburg from Interfaith Assembly speaks, Bob Coleman from Riverside Church. Rev. Mary Caliendo does her blessing, healing ritual. Then to the Irish Famine Memorial. Handing out potaotes to tourists, visitors. Back through the Zucotti circus. 


(http://www.tribecatrib.com/news/2012/march/1235_away-from-the-occupy-wall-street-protests-quiet-blessings-ove)

Walking along  Amsterdam on  my way to see Hugo and Arcadia. The NYPD Emerald Society Pipe and Drum Corps is marching in and out of the Irish bars. They stop. They play. Free drinks for the band. 

St. Patrick’s Day.

Organizer Jessica Hall and Bob

Eighth day of Lent: Vivan los san patricios

3/17

St. Patrick’s Day. The most sunny, warm, nearly perfect day of the year so far. 

Steps almost empty today. Just a black plastic knife. But Amsterdam Avenue is awash with a steady stream of people in green returning from the parade on Fifth Avenue. The pubs south of 86th are overflowing onto the sidewalks. A bus pulls up in front of the Dead Poet, (the place Amanda calls the office, much good work done there) emptying out a band of pipers in green plaid kilts. 

                                                  

One block down 86th from the  church, in Euclid Hall, the home of the West Side Federation for Senior and Supportive Housing, (yes, birthed at West-Park)is the Parlour.     More than an Irish pub, it’s a Celtic bar. That is, a home for the New York fans of the Scottish Glascgow Celtics, the traditional Catholic football club and arch rival of the Protestant fan based Rangers, though both teams are filled with all kinds of international players. Green and white striped Celtic jerseys fill the walls. While other neighborhood pubs are showing the NCAA March madness, the big screen here has English Premier Football. Right across the street from SPSA, it’s been a good place for church gatherings when we had no place of our own. I order a Magner’s Irish Cider, for Amanda, watch Kentucky’s last second win over Princeton on one of the smaller screens.

I’m thinking today of the San Patricio Battalion. That group of several hundred mainly Irish but also German and Scots draftees in the Mexican War of 1846-48 led by Captain John Riley. When they got to Mexico they looked around and said, wait, they’re Christians, we’re Christians. They’re Catholics, we’re Catholics. They’re poor, we’re poor. It’s their land, not ours. We’re on the wrong side here. So  after refusing to shoot at the Mexicans, they switched sides. 

After defeat by the US army, most of the  captured san patricios were tried by military tribunal, without defense, and hung, in violation of the Articles of War.  In Mexico, los san patricios are remembered as heroes.  Streets named, statues. The Mexican  name Obregon is a latinazation of the Irish O’Brien. But in the US, the story remained buried for centuries. 

Each Easter morning, West-Park gathers  in Central Park at the site of the All Angels Church in Seneca Village, the community of African-American, Irish and German immigrants there before Central Park. We gather there because All Angels was a multicultural church and we honor that heritage. Their story, too, was buried. Given the draft laws of the day, who knows if Irish immigrants from Seneca Village may have been among the san patricios.

Here’s a promise....if we’re still here a year from now, I’ll invite  El Taller to join us and  do a concert of Irish and Mexican music in honor  of los san patricios. And maybe go to Gabriela’s for corned beef and cabbage burritos after.

Vivan los san patricios.

Now the army used us harshly

We were but trash to them

Conscripted Irish soldiers

Not first class soldier men

They beat us and they banged us 

Mistreated us you know

But they couldn’t make us killers in the sands of Mexico.

Our John Riley seized the day 

And marched us down the road

And we wouldn’t slay our brothers

On the sands of Mexico.

Ry Cooder