Housing Our Future:Now

10/25

It was a beautiful day for a march. Though it felt a bit more like Thanksgiving than Halloween. Crisp fall air. And sun. We gathered at 86th Street and Second Avenue to march to Gracie Mansion, Mayor Di Blasio's home. The march was in support of the "House Our Future" campaign...a call for 30,000 new homes. The point was obvious, I think. The mayor  has his home. A lot of New Yorkers don't.

A crowd that would grow to 250-300 or so is gathering. Marc Greenberg, Director of the Interfaith Assembly on Homelessness and Housing (which I chair), asks me to help hold our banner.

Bob Brashear and Marc Greenberg with the banner

"Looks like a good crowd," he says. His broad smile reminds me that this is what Marc lives for. The gathering  of people, the marching, the chanting, the never ending struggle for housing justice that he has remained faithful to for decades.

The housing crisis which blossomed under Bloomberg has only worsened under Di Blasio. We now have record numbers of homeless, approaching 61,000. One third of those are working poor. Ten percent of city school children are homeless. It is scandalous. More so because Di Blasio campaigned as a progressive, promising 30,000 units, a promise yet to be delivered. (In more ways than one, Mayor Di Blasio, not unlike President Obama, came into office with a strong progressive base. And instead of using that base for truly progressive change has instead fallen into more traditional liberalism. Sad because the base is there...)

The march winds down 86th to East End. What do we want?Housing. When do we want it? Now. If we don't get it...shut it down..Hey, hey, 30K...and more chants. The crowd gathers.

In the crowd

A bombastic heckler is barely heard. There are homeless people working people, faith community people. People sharing their own stories. What will it take to be heard?

The Interfaith Assembly has been faithful to this witness since the "Kochville" occupation of City Hall Park thirty years ago in 1988. (See John Jiler's Sleeping With the Mayor ....https://www.amazon.com/Sleeping-Mayor-Story-John-Jiler/dp/1886913145.) Founded by a faith community trio of steadfast witnesses Marshall Meyer, Dan Berrigan and my predecessor, Bob Davidson, Marc has led the IAHH through these many years. There would be no better way to commemorate the 30th anniversary of Kochville than action on the 30000 badly needed homes.

Berlin 2: Somehow this all worked

2/8

Social housing

Maerkisches Viertiel neighborhood. Classic post war social housing projects, massive in scale. Big central shopping and mall area, as if someone took the best of Jane Jacobs’ ideas about circulation of people and how community is created. There’s a feeling of openness. Mix of older people who have  been here since the hosues opened, and newer, poorer residents. A small lake created for ambiance. 

Somehow this all worked. For all its shortcomings, a reflection  of an era when there was a sense of civic obligation for the greater good. Like The Great Society  in the US, which if only a half hearted effort, nevertheless represented a political values choice that some things like housing were a human right. 

This was the era that created in the Upper Westside the most successful public housing projects in the US. Were it not for the Vietnam War, (which could be argued was an extension of liberal social engineering on an international level) Lyndon Johnson would be rememebered as one  of our most effective progressive Presidents. An era that began with FDR and ended with Carter with basic assumptions intact whether Eisenhauer or JFK. Just like Reagan’s era exteneded through Bush with even Clinton dismantling welfare. The point is, the societal concensus that produced these social projects no longer exists and seems far away.

Bettina von Arrin campus

Micah’s high school, Bettina von Arrin, built like a ’70’s era civic campus model, different houses for each grade. A general school mixing social classes and academic tracks. Visual marks of a different era.

We visit two arts projects, the massive Ex Rotoprint and Uferhallen. A former printing  factory and a tram factory taken off the market by philanthropists so that affordable studios and places to create could be made available for artists. The artists are moving into Wedding and becoming part of its fabric.

It is what should be. My vision for what the West-Park building was supposed to be. Breaks my heart it has been so hard to bring into being. 

Angry

8/12

The day starts off with mixed feelings. Frustrated because I can’t reach Andre. Want him here. Steve practicing the day’s music. P_____ comes in saying something I can’t understand.  Two older men come in. One a retired minister, Douglas Beatttie, from Vestal, New York, near Binghamton. Turns out his great-grandfather was a deacon at West-Park back in 1889. Can’t stay for services but would love to see the historic record. Also turns out he was the first principal at PS 87, where all my kids went.

Rachelle comes in after a long absence. Wants to get her stuff out. Her SUV cart. (At last!) But the Hammond organ has it blocked in. Can’t move it. Someone has touched my cart...it’s not the same... I’ll ask. Need to get ready for worship now. 

Could be the smallest attendance at a service I’ve ever had. Throws me  off. 

Anger’s the theme for the day. We’re reading 2 Samuel 11: 26-12: 13, Ephesians 4: 1-16 and John 6: 35, 41-51. 

I start by asking is anyone angry this morning? And then What makes you angry? For a lot of people, it has to do with injustice. And people not living up to expectations. Maybe the expectations not being appropriate. 

I go back to our continuing story of David. One of those blood and guts Old Testament stories. The back story of his son Absalom. Name meaning Father of peace. His sister, Tamar, had been raped by his half-brother, Amnon. David’s first son. He was angry that his father had not been able to protect his sister. So he plans his revenge. Sets up a hit on his brother at a family gathering. Then flees. Goes to his maternal grandparents. Then David welcomes him back. And Absalom goes after father. Drives David out. Sleeps with his father’s concubines. Nathan’s prophesy of what David’s  actions had set in motion coming true. 

David had lost the support of his people. Had nothing left but his mercenaries. But David outsmarted Absalom. Drew his forces out into the forest. And Absalom dies, suspended  between heaven and hell. And David weeps for his son, Absalom. O Absalom, my son Absalom, if only I had died instead of you. Over 3000 years this anguished cry rings out, from the human heart of the story. Just as David had wept for Saul, even as Saul had tried to kill him. A great man of Israel has died. It’s got all the impassioned human complexity  of Coppola’s Godfather trilogy or an HBO series like the Sopranos or Boardwalk Empire. Families are like that. 

So what do we learn about anger? Ephesians says,  Be angry but don’t sin. What does that mean? First, that there are things that deserve anger. That anger can be the appropriate emotion. But it can devour you, eat you up, consume you, lead you down deadly paths. 

Don’t let the sun go down on your anger. Easier said than done. John R says can’t do it. And I, too, know what it’s like to lie awake, tossing and turning, angry. Not able to let go. That’s why we forgive, not for the other, but for ourselves, to not let our own lives be consumed by the wrong the other has done to us. (Reconciliation, well that’s another reality all together.....)

When I coached soccer, I always taught my players to keep their heads. If you could get your opponent angry, they’d get out of their game. Just where you want them.

And Don’t open a door to the devil.... that’s what it does... opens the door for truly evil things to happen. 

Right in the middle of my sermon, there’s a commotion. Steve goes to check it out. A truck has arrived with all of P____’s earthly goods. No I say to him. Didn’t see that coming. So I’m distracted watching Steven dealing with this in the back of the church, but I return to my reflection. 

What do we do? It begins with  putting away falsehood, let all of us speak the truth to our neighbors, for we are members of one another. Healing can only begin with honesty, with truth. 

Thieves must give up stealing; why?  rather let them labor and work honestly with their own hands, so as to have something to share with the needy. It’s about sharing. Not just neutrally giving up stealing, but moving  to positive sharing...

 Let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up, as there is need, so that your words may give grace to those who hear. And so we ask, what do our words say? What do our words give? If we listen to ourselves, do we hear grace? 

 And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with which you were marked with a seal for the day of redemption. That’s what our anger, our hurting does....grieves the Holy Spirit, because what we do to each other we do to God....

And then... Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice, and be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you. Last Wednesday in our study group, we marvelled at how mean church can be. At every level. Why? Maybe at some level we enjoy it, we get off on it. Ever see how excited people get with gossip? And it’s not just church. Steve, remember how mean Occupy meetings could be? The interpersonal attacks, invective? And how much of reality TV is about the entertainment value of conflict? Yes, at some level we enjoy it. There’s almost a visceral eroticism with anger.  

Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children, and live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.

I like that phrase, fragrant offering....far better than washed in the blood, far better than the cross, from a Mel Gibson torture porn passion, Jesus as a fragrant offering...like morning, like baking bread, like the inside of a conservatory at a botanical garden filled with orchids, like....fragrant offering...

Imitators of God...live in love....

And again, that’s why we need one another...why spiritual is not enough...I can do that alone...but religion, like I said last week, knitting  the ligaments together...we help each other get by, let go, move beyond...moving from anger to love....

The end of the service feels rushed. I head to the back. Confusion has broken out. They’re unloading all of P____’s things. Bed. Box springs. Furniture. Boxes of clothing. You can’t do that here...I say. But Reverend... The people who spent holiday weekends cleaning out the church are flipping out. They are committed to opening up the church to breathe. To change the energy. To give it breathing space. And they can see their work frustrated again. P_____ is panicking. It’s just a few days....How many?....Until the 31st....That’s three weeks...Please, I’ll move them out...Where will you go?....I have a place...Where?.....I don’t know....

P_______ feels surrounded. You are so many....you are all against me...o my God, o my God...she’s rocking back and forth....in her own place of anguish, cut off from us. 

I, too want and need the space to emptied out, opened, breathing.

You can’t do this, someone says.

She’s being evicted, I say. 

And so are hundreds of others, someone says. Are you going to help them all?

No, but this one is in front of me. This one is one of mine, one of us...And I will not put her out on the street.

Someone walks out, frustrated. Then returns. How about a storage rental  space? So Steven starts making calls. Seems to have found one. I’ll pay for it if I have to.

P ___ feels l’ve  have sold her out. Abandoned her.  Gone over to the other side. I watched them....they killed Rev. Davidson for the manse...and they will kill you...you no longer have the Holy Spirit in you. It won’t protect you. Something terrible will happen to you before the end of the day.  You’ll see, you’ll see...

Turns out the van driver wil ls tore all her things at no charge. But he’ll steal half my things...she says. No he won’t, I say. You have to trust...And so they load up all her things. Everything but the box springs. Driver says he’ll come back for them. Tomorrow. She comes back to me. He needs $20 she says. So I give her the 20. She kisses me on the cheek. And they’re gone. The box springs in the foyer continue to stare at me. 

I want all her things gone. I want all things left over for play performances gone. Rachelle’s stuff gone. Want it gone. 

On the steps with Teddy and Steve. She called me at 6:30 am, says Teddy. Wanted me to move her refrigerator, her, ...sorry, I just couldn’t deal with it. 

It’s OK, I say. I hadn’t wanted her to move at all. To confront the landlord. The sheriff. Now she’s moved out all her stuff. Has no place to go and no capacity to make a plan. After 38 years of supporting herself, paying her bills, raising her kids. Being driven over the edge of what was only a fragile sanity to begin with. This is not how it’s supposed to work. 

Well. you had the right sermon topic today, says Steve. 

I feel defeated.Frustrated. Angry.

Enough crazy, enough addiction

8/7

Spend most of the day with P____ in Housing Court.  Dante's circles of hell. Hour by hour my anger rises. The sheriff delivered the eviction  notice yesterday even though the hearing was scheduled for today. The landlord's attorney and a young real estate woman are trying to establish the fair market value of the apartment P_____has lived in for 38 years.  Seems there's little the judge can do. P____'s attorney is fighting valiantly.  I feel the rage rising. Keep wondering if I should rise up and just speak out. Channel Nathan. At the last hearing, the attorney began by saying Just because something is legal doesn't make it right.   

While we're there, I hear an old Chinese woman from Chinatown, every bit as lost as P_____, on the verge of being evicted in a Chinatown gentrifcation hustle. A middle aged heavyset black woman keeps calling out for Jesus. Do you see what's going on here? the attorney says to me. They're out for every vulnerable person in a stabilized apartment. it's an all out assault. He manages to extend the hearing into October. But now, can he get a stay on the eviction? P_____still doesn't comprehend what is going on.  Keeps talking about lasers and cameras and....and God's will will be done. And I want to say, No, P______, no it won't. In the end, maybe. But we're not going to see it. This is NOT God's will. 

So I get back to the church, worn out by rage and a feeling of helplessness. This makes no sense. And I find Edward sprawled out on the steps. Flies buzzing about. An open 40 at his side. Edward, come on man, you know the rules. you can't be here during the day.  I'm sympathetic man,  but you can't be here.  

He rouses. OK, OK, I'm going. But doesn't move. Look , I say, I'm going for coffee. When I get back, be moving, OK?

And I go next door to Barney Greengrass for iced coffee. I'm a dollar short. Next time, OK? says the counter guy and I nod. 

I come back out and see Edward, standing up, wavering back and forth,  his penis out spraying the steps with urine. WHAT ARE YOU DOING? I shout, somehow managing not to drop my coffee. He stares at me, continuing.

I call 911.  Come up on the steps with him. Teddy has heard me shouting and has come out to join me. 

Why you yellin at me?

YOU'RE  PISSING ON MY STEPS!

No I'm not....I spilled my beer...

EDWARD I JUST SAW YOU!

Nah, nah, look if somethin came outta me, wasn't intentional, right?

I CARE FOR YOU EDWARD BUT YOU CAN'T PISS ON MY STEPS!

Teddy says, Look man, you can't be doin this. You just told me how much you appreciate this man.  This is disrespectful, got it?

OK,OK, I'm goin....

As he heads to the corner, he sees the cop car. Teddy points out the newspaper sticking out the back of his jeans. Dude's in bad shape, man.

Edward turns around , heads the other direction.  The car pulls over. The female officer opens her window. You called us?  

I say, yeah, and tell her what happened. She looks up Amsterdam, sees Edward turning the corner. I know him., she says. Edward, I say. He's a got a girlfriend  around the corner, she says. Charlotte, I say.  OK, I'll talk to him.

And they make their way north.

Teddy can see I'm shaking. Never heard you yell like that before, Bob. 

It's the day, I say. 

Teddy says, you did good. You called him out but didn't dis him. I respect that. 

Inside, I tell Danielle. She's upset. Jonah is waiting to speak to me. He comes in. Teddy comes in to say he found him wondering through the building again. I told you that part's off limits, OK? Don't play me....

I'm not playin' you, Jonah says.

I tell Teddy it's OK. I listen to Jonah's story. RL looks in, asks me to join him and his attorney at the Gate. I listen more to Jonah. On a journey to discover the meaning of life. Had to leave home. The energy of this place drew him in, there must be an answer here, a place to stay?

I want to say, Dude, not today. Wrong day. Wrong time. But I say, you're about 2-3 months too late for Occupy Wall Street. You would have fit right in. But not now. It's late. if you want to come back tomorrow, I'll listen to you play. But not now.

I'm done. I'm remembering my five day struggle cleaning shit off the steps every day last summer. Not going back there.  I've had enough of crazy. I've had enough of addiction.  Just let me talk to three normal people.  Just three....

I walk down the street to meet RL. Calm down. Later, I pass the church on my way to meet Jamie at the B. Teddy's outside. We talk, All is calm. For now. 

Thou art the man

8/5

Reflection on 86th Street by Gidon Lowenthall

Steven is practicing the piano as I arrive. Teddy has everything ready. Hope arrives soon after.  It's August. Lots of folks away.  But Anna and Puppy are back.

The story in 2 Samuel (11:26-12:13a) is  one of my favorites. Last week, we had part one, where David sees Bathsheba, takes her, she winds up pregnant and he brings her husband Uriah home to try and create a cover,but being a faithful soldier, Uriah won't sleep in his bed and stays outside so David has him sent to  the frontlines so that he will be killed. This week is part two, the dramatic conclusion.     It's great drama. In the 1951 movie  Gregory Peck played  and Susan Hayward Bathsheba. Who would it be today?

I like this passage because of a sermon I heard my freshman year of college by Ray Swartzbach. Ray was one of the pioneers of Presbyterian urban ministry working in Cincinnati, riot torn Detroit, Cleveland. He decided to give his family a break and spend four years at the College of Wooster in bucolic Wayne County, Ohio. I can still hear his voice thunder as he spoke Nathan's words to David:  Thou art the man. (Sounds so much more dramatic in the King James version.)

In Ray's sermon, Nathan's story of the rich man who had everything taking the little lamb from the poor man who had nothing else was a parable for what the US was doing in  Vietnam. It was the fall of 1967 and opposition to the war had not yet become universal. That sermon kept me in church. Probably one reason why I decided being a minister would be a good job for me.  Years later at Yale, I would hear William Sloane Coffin, Jr. preach a very similar sermon on that text. It's parabolic value remains sadly relevant in  describing how the world we live in works.

Wes Howard-Brook in his recent book, Come Out My People, says that the whole Bible has an ongoing tension between two religions, that of  Empire vs. that of Creation. The people wanted a King, the david story shows what can happen. The tension is clear.

One of my colleagues in my clergy study group saw a connection between this story and the current War on Women where even basic hard won rights arfe being called into question.As the story goes on, Bathsheba is not even named, she becomes the wife of Uriah..And when Nathan says that David's wives will be taken sexually by his enemies, the focus is on the loss of honor by David, not the trauma of the women made victim to sexual violence.

What's also evident here is the sense  of entitlement that comes with position, power and privilege. Taking Bathsheba  would seem reasonable to David.  Just his due.  

Then there is the issue of collateral damage...who else gets hurt in what way? Act and cover up. Joab,  front  who gave the order that sent Uriah to the front was also a victim...I keep thinking of that janitor at Penn State. And all the others who participated in covering up the actions of Jerry Sandusky out of fear for their jobs or just not wanting to embarrass the university for ten years as the innocent victims continued to be preyed upon. 

And then forgiveness and consequences. David will be sustained through all, God will stay with him,  but he has set in motion countless consequences he will have to endure...strife within his family, violence to his wives: shame  and loss of  honor...

David hears Nathan.  He hangs his head, says I have sinned against the Lord. But wait... anyone else? I have always appreciated that in the Jewish High Holy Day sequence, the yearly journey to atonement, you can’t ask God to forgive what you did to someone else...

Our Psalm this morning is read every year on Ash Wednesday, to begin Lent. Was Psalm 51 David's  prayer after hearing Nathan? Against you alone have I sinned only makes sense in that a sin against any human being is a sin against God. To hurt another person is to hurt God. 

It goes on. I will go to court this week with one of our members. She has managed to support herself, keep a job, pay her rent for over thirty years. Signing a paper opened the door for a greed driven landlord to get her rent stabilization removed and begin eviction proceedings. Not only that, they're seeking years worth of the difference between the rent she paid and market rate. PLUS attorney's fees.  She will not only be homeless but financially ruined.  All to further enrich an already rich landlord. The rich man taking the little lamb again. I look at the landlord's attorney and think, how do you sleep at night? Do you not know what you are doing? If only Nathan could appear in court.....

What do we take for ourselves? We begin with  honesty, facing squarely our reality. Then, as in twelve step groups, we must make amends. And then begin again

And then, as in David's story, face the reality that some things broken remain broken...

It begins with speaking the truth in love...(Ephesians 4: 1-16)...having the courage to be open and honest with each other.  It's not easy, believe me, I know. 

We need each other....The word religion in Latin comes from the same root as ligaments. It has the sense  knitting together that which has been broken, fractured...We do that in community....as we seek to be together the body of Christ.

Later, as we begin to gather for communion, a table of inclusion, I reflect on the Olympics. As I read in Sports Illustrated,  The first world record of the Games went to South Korea's Im Dong-hyun, an archer who's legally blind. Natalia Partyka of Poland, a table tennis player with no right hand, joined Oscar Pistorius, the prosthetically fitted "blade runner" from South Africa, as someone who would not be waiting for the Paralympics, thank you very much.

In a gesture of national healing, Japanese athletes arrived in London with medals already in hand-beribboned discs, hewed by children from driftwood left by the 2011 tsunami. The support greeting Megan Rapinoe after her recent announcement that she's gay had the U.S. midfielder playing some of the most exuberant soccer of her career. And no hijab could have concealed the womanhood of Malaysia's Nur Suryani Mohd Taibi, who competed in the 10-meter air rifle while eight months pregnant. I have two hearts, she said after placing 34th of 56, so maybe I am stronger.

Perhaps the church can learn from the example of the Olympics. That is the kind of inclusive community we are seeking to create. That is what we celebrate at this table. Let all who will come be welcome.

We share our bread and cup using the glassware I brought back from the Pittsburgh General Assembly. Symbolically joining our little community with the Presbyterians who had gathered from around the country. 

We gather around the table. Say our Alleluias and Amen. 

Our worship has ended. The service will continue. 

Robert L. Brashearu

New relationship beginning

7/31

A morning with P______ in housing court. Emotionally exhausting. A mistake, a paper she signed, did she even know what she was doing? made it a slam dunk for the landlord. How justice can mean taking someone who even with bipolar has managed to keep a job, pay her rent and raise kids and not only evict her but seek to ruin her financially, push her into the homeless population, all for the sake of profit, it angers me to rage.

Breakfast with Chris who for years was in charge of the housing deal we were trying to pull off until Landmarks, and the economy intervened. He's left the for profit world and returned to non-profit housing in East Harlem. He's excited by possibility, what could be done.  Offer to help at West-Park. Need to figure out what that could be.  Lots of memories of weekly breakfasts trying to move a process forward. Seems long ago now. 

See Luisa on the street. Turns out she came to the Sanctuary NYC event as well. Felt worn out by the energy. Sorry to have missed Bible Study.  Looking at some outpatient surgery on Friday. A sweet, gentle spirit.

Martin, Teddy and Dan hard at work transforming the session room into a studio. Join them for lunch in the chapel. Martin with all kinds of creative grant and funding possibilities.  I get excited. And 

overwhelmed. 

It's time for a test. Martin's wife, Soledad, a world renowned flamencera, steps onto the floor, slowly begins working her feet into the passionate, rhythmic pounding that always looks like it could bring sparks from the earth. We head out to different places to see how much sound comes through. Obviously comes into the chapel. And Marc comes up from his workshop below to see what's going on. But everywhere else, sanctuary, Mc Alpin, fine. Thi sis going to work.

Dan is watching Soledad, mesmerized.

8/1

Martin has more ideas about development, fundraising, ....too much for me, need to get him together with Ted. 

Cleaning out a closet. Dan says reminds him of an episode of the Hoarders. We've cleared so much detritus out of here, but so much still remains. Gets depressing. 

Theatre companies all over the place. Lost track of who's who and who's where. Dan goes out for a deli sandwich and joins me in my office for lunch.It feels good having him around. 

Nan comes in to review where we are financially.  What bills can be paid. Still out on that tightrope without any net....

Late in the afternoon, the whole Noche cast is here for rehearsal. Now we can really hear the sound.

I'm thinking about the different people we've lived with ....the Woodshed gang, Occupy Wall Street, now Noche Flamenca.  A new relationship isn beginning. We'll see what it will bring.

Today 27,000 New Yorkers will lose their rent subsidies

6/1

When I get to the church after my lectionary study, Dave is hard at work trying to make a functional lighting set up out of what we’ve got left. Danielle and I are trying to come  up with text for Norm’s archival display. We’re skyping with Amanda working on the concert series. Then Andre arrives ready to rehearse with Jed. 

Jed arrives and they begin to rehearse. The sounds from the sanctuary are truly amazing. Dave is trying to explain the whole lighting arrangement he’s come up with and I’m pretending to act like I actually understand what he’s telling  me. He’s also found the skeletal remains of our sound system.  We might actually be able to make something of this. 

I point out to Danielle how amazing this is, the details of lighting systems and Andre and Jed in the sanctuary. This can be a truly special concert. Willa anybody come? Will anybody even  know? 

Outside, I move the shopping cart beside the garbage container again. Beside the basket is an inch of pasta remains. A bike is chained to the scaffolding.

I leave to go talk to my colleague Pastor Elise about money. She pioneered the model of the open church doors, the office open to the street. For me that  model has made a radical difference. 

I greet Marty but he’s not into talking. Must be one of those  days. The Prophet is back on the steps, writing in his notebook, drinking from a Ballantyne Ale 40. I tell him he can’t do that, he holds up a wicker basket looking for a contribution. I put a dollar in his basket, remind him about the Ballantyne. 

Danielle and I press on to finish our work. She hasn’t met the Prophet before. We go outside, he’s got another 40. I remind him again. He mutters incomprehensible words. I still think he may have written the Amharic placard we found.

There’s a work crew coming to prepare for Friday’s concert. I’ve got to go be with the Interfaith Assembly on Housing and Homelessness, their service, their overnight vigil in City Hall Park. Today 27,000 New Yorkers will lose their rent subsidies. Tent cities in five boroughs. Cuomovilles. Will the Governor come through?  Got to be there.

Danielle calls me while I’m in the service. When she got back to the church, the deadbolt was unlocked and the light were on. When I had left I’d turned everything off and bolted the door. Weird. And a little scary. I tell her to have Luis do a complete walk through before leaving.