Living in cornavirusworld 57: We have not been orphaned

5/18

a place to start

So it turns out today is Victoria Day in Canada. (A uniquely Canadian holiday.) So our International Sanctuary working group meeting has been postponed until June 1. Four of us didn’t get the memo as they say and were waiting in the ZOOM room until we reached someone and figured it out. 

After planning out the week, it’s a good opportunity to do the errands left over from a busy.  weekend.  Stops at the drug store, and Best Market for groceries. On my walk back home, I notice a solo trombone player at the corner of 116th and Fredrick Douglass. 

solo trombone

Heading  home on 115th, I recall that there have been volunteers in Luigi’s Garden all weekend, clearing and cleaning, getting the garden ready.

cleaning out the garden

After preparing my BibleStudy, I go for my walk and at 110th and 5th Avenue, there’s the same trombone player, bracketing my day. He’s at least a mile away from where I saw him before. I wonder where he began, how many stops he made and how his take has been on his busker’s journey.  He's playing 'When the Saints..." a taste of  New Orleans in Harlem. 

trobone player reappears

Tonight we’re studying John 14: 15-21. But there will of course be lots of conversation about yesterday’s meeting. This section of John is about “the power of the Holy Spirit.” Jesus is preparing his followers for the fact that he will  not be with them in the flesh. In the midst of our 50 day Easter season, we are reflecting on the risen Christ’s earthly appearances between his resurrection and ascension.  So the church finds these word of Jesus a helpful parallel for preparing  us for the post-Easter time of the risen Jesus’ departure and the season of the Holy Spirit. On first hearing, the passage that strikes Marsha is verse 16, the comforter. What does that mean? Like a warm blanket to wrap round you? An arm around your shoulder?  Russ bemoans a theology of comfort that ignores social responsibility. I am most taken by v.18, I will not leave you orphaned. We will later talk about how in Jesus' day, orphan had not only sociological, but economic. Orphans were among society's most vulnerable, and therefore the constant concern of the Torah as in ...widows, orphans and the stranger at your gate...Which sounds like the current administration's deportation list.

There is a strong emphasis on the keeping of Jesus’ commandments. (See also 15:9, 14:15, 21-24) In John’s circular argument, a connection between keeping the commandments, knowing Jesus and loving Jesus. 

The word translated in King James as “comforter’ (v.16) is actually the Greek word for advocate, as a defense attorney. In ancient Hebrew cosmology, Satan was the prosecuting attorney (as in Job) and the Holy Spirit the defense attorney.  In personal terms, the voice that tells you you can’t do it, you’re no good, why even try, that’s Satan. The voice that tells you that you have value are worthy of love and can do it, that’s the Holy Spirit. The Greek word paraclete can mean “helper” or “comforter”as well, depending in the context. It’s important to note that in the gospels, John is the only one to use this term, four times: (14:26, 15:26, 16:7, 1 John 2:1).

Further, the Holy Spirit, the advocate, is the Spirit of Truth. There’s that word again. Like in I am the way, the truth and the life.... Again, this is uniquely John’s language. (Although we find similar language in the Dead Sea scrolls.). 

In essence, John’s argument comes down to the Spirit of Truth is connected to Jesus.  The world does not know or receive Jesus, therefore the world does not know TRUTH.  Truth is a big word. The fullness of truth is always and always will be beyond us. BUT, if you truly see Jesus, you see the TRUTH. There is a common narrative in popular Christianity to see the Holy Spirit as what Jesus left us with after he left earth. As if it didn’t exist before. In fact, in the Jewish tradition, the Holy Spirit has been there since the beginning. The breath that blew across the primordial waters to separate out the dry land was ruah, the Holy Spirt.  The breath that breathed into the lifeless clay Adam (earth-man) was the Holy Spirit. In John’s cosmology, Jesus was cosmic. The Creator, Christ and Holy Spirit were all present at creation, three distinct persons and yet one. Trinity.  Which maybe only Buddhists and readers of Marvel comics can understand. 

In 18-24, Jesus speaks of his return as abiding presence.  But notice, he’s talking about his return after crucifixion, not a second coming. ‘In a little while, the world will not see me but you will see me because I live and you will live. I am in my father and you in me and I in you.” 

(‘I am the walrus” again: I am he as you are he as you are me And we are all together’) It’s a circular argument: Those who keep my commandments love me, therefore they are loved by my father, therefore loved by me and I will reveal myself to them.” 

The popular concept of a “second coming,” that is Jesus coming back in triumph, is basically not a concern for John. Because he’s been here all along. Never left. And where does he live? Inside us. 

The earliest witness to the resurrection textually is Paul. He meets the risen Christ in an internal experience on the Damascus road. For him, Christ is not seen, but experienced. This happens after Paul witnessed the stoning of the apostle Stephen. Even holding the cloaks of stoners. My riff here is that in seeing Stephen, Paul saw Jesus. Later he will tell us that we will know him as he has. (1 Corinthians 15)  Likewise, in writing about the resurrection Bishop Spong argued that it was breakfast on the beach (John 21) when eating together, they experienced him within themselves and their companionship.  

Simply, we don’t see Jesus (except in others) we experience Jesus. 

We are not talking about belief in doctrines here. This is something else entirely.  To love Jesus, follow his commandments. When you do so, you will know him. Acting precedes belief. 

We finish by talking about the meeting. Beyond concerns about the lack of coherent vision at any level of denominational institution, despite the frustrating moments of conversation, coronavirus inspired uncertainty about the future, nevertheless the actions taken indicate hope. And remaining possibility.  Acting precedes belief. 

No we have not been orphaned. He is with us still. 

Living in coronavirusworod 48: Empire, power, ambition

5/9

Morningside egret

Colder. Especially in the shade.But the sun is out. In Morningside Park, we continue to be fascinated by nature in a way that we were not before. The egret, the turtles and the feral cat become characters in my daily drama as I check on their whereabouts and activities. I like the turtles and their prehistoric amphibian nature between the he world underwater and our own.  In Native American mythology the turtles’ upper shell is the vault of  heaven and the lower  shell the earth.  Two months ago, I would not have been writing about turtles.  My walking partner prefers the egret with its s curve neck and bathing ritual. 

Aa we walk our circuit around the Meer, through the Conservatory gardens and back, we talk about the DOE. 

Central Park starling

How it turned out the all the business about ZOOM's compromised security and checking out alternative platforms was just part of a tactic in the negotiations  between ZOOM and the DOE. ZOOM has now created a special platform just for New York City schools.  We can’t give more than a passing notice to the proliferating stories about “plandemic” suggesting it’s all a plot and statements that the death tolls are being inflated and the president essentially endorsing the wildest provocative speculation of the internet as reasons to “reopen” then economy. She is “confused” by her friend’s analysis that there is little difference between the Democrats and Republicans in handling’s the key economic issues exposed by the coronavirus. True enough.  BUT the fact is that Hilary, probably even McCaIn, would have left us with thousands fewer deaths in this crisis.  That counts  for something. We can’t think about these things too much. Just enough to be informed. Not so much as to fall into despair. 

Even small coughs are suspicious now and I try to stifle what I feel/hope is just spring allergies. 

My Saturday chores take to standing in one  line at the drug store and another  at the grocery store and carrying the grocers home over my shoulder n a Steeler bag. 

On Fredrick Douglass, an African-American motorcycle club fills the street with a pipes  roaring procession, one bike after the other.. Six feet? Well, I guess….

I watch the National Theatre of London’s production of Antony and Cleopatra starring Ralph Fiennes and Sophie Okenedo.  As always, I see relevance to our current situation. That’s what makes Shakespeare Shakespeare. It is among other things, a reflection on empire and ambition  and power.  I find myself thinking about living under occupation and realizing in many ways we are experiencing that reality. Every aspect of our lives is dominated by an alien force outside of our control. Freedom of movement and assembly curtailed. And the cost of ignoring orders can be death, either from the virus or other humans. Global lockdown. The sun never sets on the Covid19 empire.

And I listen  to a podcast that explains how diabolical this virus is, capable of mutation and self preservation. Only starving it stops it. And certainly our voracious unchecked consumption has open end the path for the virus to find us. 

And then the Saturday Night 45th Season Finale.  The "at home" show finished with a video called "Dreams". featuring Cecily Strong. (my favorite because she's ben in my audience a few times at Bar 9.) It's not perfect kind of quirky and even includes some clever "nightmares" as different cast members dream of their actual life in our city. All accompanied by DeBussy's Claire de Lune. By the time it finished, I was sobbing, missing what has always been and is not. That's what it is...imperfect, quirky, sometimes a bit nightmarish i ways we can laugh about....but ours. 

                                                              "Dreams"

It's time  for the day to end, knowing once again sleep will not come  easy. 

Living in cornavirusworld 41: This is your last warning

5/3

Mister Softee to the rescue

The highlight of the day is our weekly  family get together on ZOOM. The joy of seeing my grandchildren,  As Germany reopens, my son is beginning to think about the the tension  between civil liberties and pubic safety . And how our different contexts can produce different responses to that question. No matter where we live ,we need to be aware of ani-democratic forces who would use the virus to expand their powers and  diminish  civil liberties. One can imagine the layers of security that will be called for after. Added layers of airport security, for example..It’s easy imagining an organized country like Germany, having come out of national quarantine, not wanting  to admit visitors from  a chaotic  country like the US with it s lack of testing and tracking.

Time for a late afternoon visit to Jackie Robinson Park to visit with another friend. It's hard maintaining social distance sometimes. It’s changing us. But good to see each other in the flesh, covered as it is.  As I leave, I hear the sound of the Mister Softee truck. Children come running. (I check to see if I have any dollars, and I don’t.) A little guy stumbles leaving the truck, his soft serve hitting the street. Before he can even  start to cry, the Mister Softee man calls him back for a fresh cone.

Back home, the 115th street floating craps game is back on, just up the street from me. There is a mask or two among the players. No gloves for throwing of the hot dice.

Later, inside my apartment, I hear the bull horn from a police car threatening, “This is your last warning. Move further apart, now. This story last warning.” I will hear that several times as the night wears on. There are already videos circulating of police violence against people of color over social distance violations. None of the videos come from Central Park or Bryant or Madison Park  or the West Village. They are all from the collective hood in its various  manifestations. I think of our earlier conversation. Forces of repression will use this moment as a cover to do what they’ve always wanted to do. ‘This is your last warning.”

Late at night. I hear a sound, look outside. The craps game has moved to right outside my  window.

This is  your last warning ….

                                                                    

Livingincoronavirusworld 34: Yesterday I heard the Mr.Softee truck chimes

4/26

All customers must......

Yesterday I heard the Mr. Softee truck chimes.

 Calling the  children out from their homes into the streets for an ice cream treat.  A sure sign of spring in the city.  Appearing phantom like from out of nowhere, disappearing just as fast. The website says that officially they’re in quarantine,…but…..

A cold and raw day.  There’s now a “keep this far apart” sign at the entrance to Central Park. I walk through the park along the Meer. In the raw damp cold there is an emptiness, far different from the warmth of human presence that filled the  park yesterday. This quiet, this emptiness, makes the enforced solitude, the strangeness of these days, all the more powerful.  I feel very much alone. 

I walk as far east as 5th Avenue and head north. At 111th, there’s a bar with open windows..street side counters…scattered patrons. Hey we’re open a woman in an apron says. It’s appealing. I consider an $11 drink and then decide to head home to  leftover chili and a cold beer.  I note the required mask posters on Lenox. 

Our family gathers on ZOOM. It’s good to see the grand children in Berlin. They’ll start back to pre-school on Monday....teachers are essential workers...At a year and a half, my granddaughter has learned to jump. Like her brother before her, she jumps into life with both feet, wanting it all. Believing she can do it all. Germany is slowly reopening its doors. As always, we talk about food We all talk about food, preparing it, eating it. One of those connections to normal. It takes time. It takes creativity. I wonder how long it will be until I can be with  them again. 

The turnout this week for the We Love Songwriters is smaller than usual. I won't speculate as to why,  just good to be here. CC Eve, in Montreal, tells us she celebrated  her birthday with takeout Quebecois food.  Some people look puzzled. I know what she means. We followed my oldest north and up the St. Lawrence for summer workshops. There are the smoked meats of Montreal. A Quebecois pastrami. And poutine.  Truck stop, road side stand food. French fries with gravy and cheese curd.  Food for cold winters, trappers and lumber jacks. 

We talk about food. We talk more than we sing. CC wants our help on a song she’s working on. “What do we miss?”  she says.  “A cold pint of Guiness with friends”says Pat. As for me, who basically lives alone, it’s human contact. Non-virtual, real human contact. I miss my boys in Brooklyn. Drinks with friends at the Gate. Pat and I are basically not drinking, although in this circle of singers, I have a Jameson’s. It’s not the alcohol we miss, its the people. I am so thankful  for my walking  partner and our walks.  And I miss harmony. CC remembers singing  in the choir. I remember what it’s like to have my band and 3 or 4 other singers and we stop the instruments and go  a cappella and all the voices meet and embrace each other while maintaining their own unique voice and I feel I’m in heaven. It’s my song but it’s so much better because they are singing it with me, adding voices, adding harmony…(like just the right spices when you are cooking. ) I miss harmony.  These Sunday night get togethers are islands in the stream. I wonder how long  will it be before CC can cross the border again.

Yesterday I heard the Mr. Softee truck chimes.