On the first Sunday of June

 6/6

Art, Morningside Park

On the first  Sunday of June, this was my reflection for the Beverley congregation...

The sun is out. It’s warm. Like turtles in the parks, we’re easing our heads up out of the water, bit by bit, ready to feel those sun rays.  I’m sitting in the ballpark again, making plans for summer travel. At my mothers’  assisted care facility, I can take her outside and wheel her around the little lake. More and more of us are vaccinated.  Who knows? Some day we might actually be able to meet in person again for church. 

Since we’ve last met together, we have passed the one year anniversary of the murder of George Floyd.  And just last week, the 100th anniversary of an event that happened in a city I once served in for 10 years.The Tulsa Race Massacre. Meanwhile all cross the country, legislatures seem to be doing all they can to bring back voter suppression. The situation with homeless people in our city seems to be getting worse. And city elections are coming by  again. 

So what’s Jesus  up to this week? He’s healing people, doing exorcisms, and drawing such big crowds there’s no time to even eat. Even his family seems to think he’s gone too far so that they want him to "tone it down.” People are saying he’s crazy. Religious authorities have come down from Jerusalem to discredit him, saying he’s casting out demons by the power of Satan. 

Let’s stop a second. Last month, May, was mental health awareness month. In Jesus day, people understood mental illness to be “demon possession.” (In some respects, that’s not that far off.) Their claim that Jesus is doing this through the power of Satan makes Jesus just about as angry as he gets. First, he uses logic. “How could I use the power of Satan to drive  out Satan”? Logically, only the power of the Holy Spirit could drive out an evil Spirit. And that’s where he gets really angry…their calling the Holy Spirit the spirit of evil is not only illogical, but blasphemous and to Jesus, the only unforgivable sin. (At least in this chapter..)

This is where another quote comes in…

4If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand. 25And if a house is divided against itself, that house will not be able to stand.

These are the words Lincoln used to describe the United States on the eve of the Civil War. The kind division he saw was probably inevitable given that the whole economy and culture of the South (and let’s admit it, the riches of the north) was built on the backs of enslaved human beings. Human beings treated as property.  There is ultimately no compromise between the idea that some human beings can be owned and used as property and the belief that all human beings are inherently to be free people. There is no middle ground. The fact is the whole system of chattel slavery only worked if those enslaved were not viewed as fully human. Any kindness or generosity simply a form of humane treatment of animals. 

I might even suggest that at the end of the day, that original sin if you wish, informs the divisions we have today as resistance to the teaching of race theory grows. 

There are other ways we are and will be divided. Now when you go the game, the stadium is divided between vaccinated and un..There are bars in this city you can’t enter unless you are vaccinated. Laws banning trans athletes are being passed. Our divisions may be as deep as they were during the Civil War. Or the beginning of the Vietnam War. 

The challenge of the next few years will be how do we even begin to understand one another? We can’t even agree on what the meaning of words are. And this divide may be greatest between those of us who clam the name of Jesus as savior. I don’t have an answer for that

(Certainly the apostle Paul gave our Southern Presbyterian ancestors more than enough quotes to support their belief in slavery.)

But back to Jesus and his family. Note that he’s inside the house  and they’re out. You can’t blame his mother for being annoyed, always having a crowd of people you don’t know  hanging around. They have to send word into him to get his attention.  

His response  can seem very harsh. Who is my mother? My brothers and sisters? Then he waves his arm around pointing to his followers and says these are they. 

For people my age, that brings up memories of what it was like during the early years of Vietnam. While cleaning out my mom’s house, my sister found an 8 page letter I had written my family explaining why I had to go to Washington, DC to protest even after they had expressed their displeasure. Those were hard days.

(Let’s be honest…Jesus’ words about family can last be used manipulatively by cults and others.. …)

We understand that we have families by birth and families of choice. New York City, because of its nature, may have a disproportionately large number of families  of choice, because of the numbers of people who come here because they need to get away to be who they truly are. We can over romanticize our birth families. Some are more complex and some just outright toxic or dangerous. 

True happiness may be when your birth family and your family of choice fit together, one the extension of the other. And that’s especially true of Church families.

Jesus makes clear that his ministry is to be about forgiveness of sins, even blasphemy.  That may actually have a lot to do with what heals people. The one person most of us have difficulty forgiving is ourselves;

Recently, the HBO series “Mare of East Town” captured the imagination of a wide audience. It’s a wonderful picture of a small Delaware County (Pennsylvania) town where everyone seems to be related and all kinds of serious family issues exist. A terrible murder of a young woman has taken place and its resolution leaves a deep mark on several families. 

Months later, the whole community is in church. The young deacon who was himself accused of the crime is back after a leave. In his return sermon, he says how good it is that we are all here together after what we have been through.  But not everyone is here. Perhaps we don’t believe they deserve to be here. Perhaps they  don’t believe it themselves. But it’s not our job to determine that. We can’t really know that. All we can do is love them.

Forgiveness may be the most important word in our sermon today,. Maybe that helps heal madness. Maybe they helps heal divisions. Maybe that helps to  heal us. 

Amen

Mark 3: 20-35

. and the crowd came together again, so that they could not even eat. 21When his family heard it, they went out to restrain him, for people were saying, “He has gone out of his mind.” 22And the scribes who came down from Jerusalem said, “He has Beelzebul, and by the ruler of the demons he casts out demons.” 23And he called them to him, and spoke to them in parables, “How can Satan cast out Satan? 24If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand. 25And if a house is divided against itself, that house will not be able to stand. 26And if Satan has risen up against himself and is divided, he cannot stand, but his end has come. 27But no one can enter a strong man’s house and plunder his property without first tying up the strong man; then indeed the house can be plundered.

28“Truly I tell you, people will be forgiven for their sins and whatever blasphemies they utter; 29but whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit can never have forgiveness, but is guilty of an eternal sin” — 30for they had said, “He has an unclean spirit.”

31Then his mother and his brothers came; and standing outside, they sent to him and called him. 32A crowd was sitting around him; and they said to him, “Your mother and your brothers and sisters are outside, asking for you.” 33And he replied, “Who are my mother and my brothers?” 34And looking at those who sat around him, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! 35Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.”

Just in case

7/3

When I try opening the front door, it won’t open. As I push a little harder, I realize that Rob is on the other side. Uh, Rob....it’s like 11:30. You can’t be here, you know? He looks very apologetic and begins gathering his stuff up.

A few minutes later, two people come through the door so I know he’s gone. I feel like celebrating. After several days of mixed connections trying to get Christopher together with people who can help him get to an appropriate housing placement, finally Chantel and Tim of BRC show up AND Christopher is here. I think about it for a minute and then decide to let them talk this through for themselves. Big mistake.

When I get back awhile later from getting iced coffee at Greengrass, Chantel and Steve are getting ready to leave. Chris didn’t like the accommodations they had available. Turned them down and left. Back to the drawing board. Seriously frustrating. Now I have to have that conversation about there being no choice anymore. 

A woman walks in. Named Penny. Wants information about the open mics. I show her the chapel where the open mics take place. Turns out she’s a Greek Orthodox. Interested in churches and how they feel. She tells me about hers over on 91st and West End and I explain that church was born as a Presbyterian church and show her the similarities with hers. And she smiles. Now it makes sense. No dome.  Wants to come back. 

RL ducks in. Harvey has moved from Roosevelt Hospital back into Kateri. That’s a good thing.

A young man comes in. Named Peter. He’s opened a new office a few blocks down the street. A counseling office. Just wanted you to know I’m here, he said, Just in case someone, you know, ever needs counseling or therapy here. Just in case. I look at him a minute. Think of responding. Smile to myself. Thank you, I say, I’ll keep that in mind.

Joanne comes in looking for Danielle.

Around closing time, Logan B comes in with a last minute need for holding  for a shoot on Monday. I give him a quick look around. He remembers the place from last fall when he used us for Amy Schumer’s new show. He’s got an an indie movie coming up. Says he’ll be back Friday. Hopefully we can make this work.

Tomorrow’s a holiday. We all could use one.

So his name is Geoffrey....

2/19

Press conference at Saigon Grill

Saigon Grill press conference

On the way to church, stop by the press conference in front of Saigon Grill. The Sweat Shop Free Upper Westside Movement has a victory to celebrate. The court has decided that Saigon Grill owes the workers more than 1 million dollars in back pay and damages. The question is whether they will make arrangements to pay up or go chapter 11 to avoid paying. At any rate, the decision sends a clear message: you cannot exploit workers, documented or not, for the sake of profits. 

They ask me ot speak and  i do, emphasizing that every consumer’s decision we make, where to shop, where to eat, which salon...every decision is a choice for or against economic justice.

Tracy and I meet for coffee afterwards. Through these conversations, and having seen and experienced some of the dark side of unmediated ideology, there must be something more, something deeper. Something that migt be found in communities of inclusion, equity and mutuality, communities based in relationships....a transformative way of being that seems to be the path Jesus is describing. I describe the political worship,(in German it’s a better expression..) I’d heard about in the old steel town of Duisberg, Germany. weekly meetings for study, reflection, discernment, critical analysis and prayer...wondering what it would take...She’s got an ides of her own idea centered around films, workers, reflections...

Martin stops in for numbers crunching and looking at dollars...

Meanwhile, Cara is playing the piano, Amanda improvising wordlessly over Cara’s music...

The prophet comes in and sits down in the narthex. Writing his cryptic notes. Danielle says Hello, Geoffrey. And I discover that he has opened up to her, shared his name. So  the prophet is Geoffrey. And so much still remains a mystery. 

In RL’s studio, RL, Poet Tim and Mandola Joe are in conversation. Amanda joins us. Soon she and Joe and I will head ti the Village, to the Living Room to hear our friend, Matt Turk. And Cara walks with us in the cold wind to the subway where she wil ride awhile....

Home again: Crazy enough

2/14

To wake up in the morning  in Berlin  and find myself back in my office in New York in the afternoon, in a day that feels endless, is strange. Disorienting. The all too present issues of the moment come swirling back like the snowstorm I missed, with only traces remaining, that kept me in Berlin.

Cara is out and happy to be back. Eagerly sweeping, having discovered it’s spiritual discipline value. A prelude to piano.

I look for Marc to check signals on upcoming events and find him in the chapel playing electric guitar along with RL, Mandola Joe and Poet Tim. 

Anna too comes in with her care for Cara and her usual eagle eye for everything and everyone in the house. Trying to make sure we all stay alert. 

Later, I find Mandola and Tim in RL’s office. Mandola lets me test his orange ukelele and I remember my father and My dog has fleas... They’re headed for another impromptu concert for Harvey.

As the day comes to an end, I share Storm Large’s Call me Crazy with Cara, knowing she will appreciate this force of nature from Portland’s portrayal of her own journey turning her wounds into transcendent funky art. (....that’s how I turn a nosedive into flight...) Stephen joins us as we watch her YouTube video for 8 Mikes Wide...

The Dzieci are in for rehearsal and welcome me back. Check signals for teddy’s memorial. And Isis has brought muffins.

There is an undercurrent of dread... I figure I’ve got time to catch RL and crew at the Gate. 

Doesn’t feel much like Valentine’s Day...

Strangers to the seasons

1/16

Tim and Dante have come on behalf of the Imperical Rogue Thratre Company.They want to produce a comedy about suicide...called Suicide...hmmmm...from1928 by a Russian playwright Nickolai Erdman. Looking like maybe spring. Feels good. 

Heart of the day taken up with a conference call about a possible agreement that could possibly produce the solution I want, not one I have to accept. Lots of questions to explore. Lots on the table. It’s still alive.  And time very short. Like the extra time in a soccer game...the ref has just added 4 minutes more...

RL stops in before another visit to Harvey. There are some minor victories to declare.We talk about our experience of yesterday.  He understands well the difference between the crazies who know they are and the ones that don’t. The ones smart enough and in control enough to trick the testers. The power of delusion in the situation. And he understands how Teddy had learned that nonengagement pays off better than even fights you win. Being in this place requires a certain zen approach, or maybe emotional aikido. 

The Ralph McTell song Marc played yesterday was Stranger to the Seasons...      an evocation of the pain of unemployment on an individual and society...

For a man without a job Is a stranger to the seasons No music to the cycle of the changes will he hear. Like a band without a drummer There's no Winter, Spring, or Summer There's no rhythm to the passing of the  Months that make the year.

Feels like that sometimes.

When I come back from the strange and beautiful Aging Magician at the Here Art Center, the folks from Course on Miracles are finishing up their night. Outside on the steps are three Mexicans and the white man we fed last week. Three Mexicans and a white man, strangers to the seasons...

He said: Don't look back

11/17

Gypsies in the house

When I arrive at the church, Saturday’s Pledge Day for Sweatshop Free Upper West Side is just wrapping up. One of the organizers tells me that six new businesses have been added to coalition now passing 75. The goal is 100 by the end of the year. Workers have been out door to door explaining the campaign, developing support. Hope introduces me to Miriam, the wife of the late Jim Drake. Jim was an organizer’s organizer, knew the work intuitively and trained a generation of organizers. I met him back when West-Park was a founding member of the Industrial Ares Foundation (IAF) organization Westsiders Together. We were also the first home of WEST. 

I’m happy that Miriam has recognized the fact that SSFUWS utilizes classic community organizing practices building a truly community based campaign with an organization’s structure involving workers with and without papers, union members, faith community people, politicians, residents and small business owners. And that after a year, our small business owners are leaders in the wisdom of guaranteeing workers basic (and legal!) rights. The connection back to Alinsky’s principles (see Sol Alinsky, Rules for Radicals) is clear. It’s good to make a connection back to Jim and his legacy of justice. 

I share with hope the outcome of the Presbytery vote, 64-34 against dividing the Presbytery into 4 borough based sub units. Tellingly the vote mirrored the results of a straw poll taken at the end of a study day months ago. Somehow, the questions raised by that  day remained and were never really answered. Despite its creative features, it felt like an effort of the white and wealthy Manhattan churches to separate from the poorer outer borough churches of people of color and to create a mission driven by the churches with money and smaller churches in colonial client relationships as opposed to colleague brother and sister ministries. Tough to explain to Sarah, but not disconnected from our recent election and the move in the country away from a commitment to the common good and and towards making the poor and marginalized more dependent on charity.  That part came through.

Alivewire’s Scott wants to come upstairs and see what’s happened in their closeout.  He’s taken their theatrical kitchen set and turned it into a more functional actual working kitchen for us. Prep and serving stations, bar, ready to roll. They’ll be leaving this for us. It’s been  good having them in the house. 

Late in the afternoon, we’ve got an issue. Alivewire’s moveout is continuing, production people from Shades of Gray and Dzieci are arriving. The place  is buzzing with activity.  And Teddy has had to call 911 on Rachelle. Something about all this activity excited her and she kept interjecting herself into the middle of everyone’s work. (Just trying to help, she would say.) Teddy asked her gently to leave and when she wouldn’t and launched into a verbal attack,  instead of losing his temper,  called 911. (Steven, setting up the bar, confirmed the story. Teddy did the right thing, he said. Given their own disagreements, that meant a lot. By now, Rachelle in her billowing hat and layers of clothes was in full Tennessee Williams mode...I have never been treated this way...I am a professional woman...

The police arrive and question me. They talk to Rachelle. She is slowly being persuaded to leave.  My time is running short. Barely enough  time to race home and change before Makbet. She follows me up the street. Telling me she’s cancelling the holiday party she was going to hold to raise so, so much money for your church... and what are you going to do about that man?!!! I keep walking, saying we can talk about that but I can’t have that conversation right now....and finally I’m free, but I am haunted by the difference between her understanding of the world...a world where she plans wonderful parties that everyone attends and raises money and does wonderful things to help so many people and carries herself with the bearing of the privileged while just having moved off the street into Capital Hall. The reality of which she couldn’t bear to accept. 

Even some well respected professional people in my circle are prone to dramatic exaggeration and completely different understandings of what happens in any given circumstance. Thing is, they believe the exaggerations. And it wears me out...

The first floor is a wonderful cacophony of activity. Audiences for two two productions crowding into the halls. A gypsy band is playing fiddle and accordion and violin and singing and passing around bottles of wine.  I pull Hope and her friend June with her into the chapel. Now turned into a gypsy encampment. Matt, as the head gypsy passing out shots of vodka. One by one we are pulled into our seats. And gypsies pass around doing divinations.

He takes my hand. I can feel your hand. I know your back.....has troubles....I see two big hands ....one supporting you, one pushing you forward. Then he looks piercingly into my eyes...Don’t look back. Only forward. Don’t look back. And those words pierce.

And then the lights come down and like a story, a tale told, a ritual around a campfire, Makbet  begins... in flickering light, scene to scene, characters shifting passing the visible sign of each character-- a hat, glasses, a scarf---  to keep clear who’s who...chanting, passing in and out of witches’ circles...something wicked this way comes...tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.... bottles passing, apples passing ... until the end....when the lights come on....and bread, challah, which most of us associate with communion or shabbat passes....

In this chapel we have taken this journey together...Matt talks with Hope about their upcoming residency...their Fools’ Mass and later Ragnarok.... and their commitment  to performing in homeless shelters, AIDS residences, supportive housing and SRO’s.....ritual, service, worship, action....inseparable... well, welcome..

I say goodbye to my friends Beppe and Liljana.  Walk out with Hope and  June. Walking up Amsterdam, the words come back...Don’t look back....

Casting out demons, amends, who didn't pay us back, and Occupy Pachelbel

1/29

There’s confusion when I first arrive. One of Rafael’s security guys is confronting an obviously disturbed young man. Not an #owser, but drawn there, refused entry, he tore down Berik’s fashion show poster and slept on the steps all night. And now he wants in. I speak to him. He comes back at me. Eyes blazing, hands trembling.

Tells me he’s Jesus. Satan. Daniel. I say, Aren’t you Kevin? He says, No, you’re Kevin. Then he launches into song:

Oh water, water,water, I made it out of clay. Oh water , water, water, with water I will play. Do you know what I’m saying to you?

Uh yeh, that’s the dreidel song...

Of course I know that. My name’s Goldtstein. I’m a Jew. From Staten Island. My parents are dead. I’m dead. I am brought back to life.My own people, the Jews, kicked me out..I am God’s son..I am here to raise you...it’s all about the children...look into my eyes...

And I do. The scariest thing about mental illness is when I look into the person’s eyes and realize that they totally believe, are experiencing, what they are saying. Makes me question my own sanity.

Then he says,... Let me in, I can bring this place back, fill it up,  like Sister Act, like Whoopi Goldberg.

I have to admit, he almost had me there. Sorry man, can’t do. I turn and go in. He follows me. Yelling incoherently, swearing. Andre looks up from the piano, shaken. Rafael approaches Kevin. Looks him in the eye. Kevin cursing and swearing. Taking it out on Rafael. 

Rafael opens his arms, That’s okay, man, I love you, give me a hug...Kevin opens his arms, Rafael embraces him, picks him up, literally carries him out of the church. 

Andre tell me he almost had another stroke. But he was blown away. Had never seen such strength of love. I am  just glad Andre is here. Later, Rafael told me that outside, Kevin continued to rant. Until Rafael said, Well, ok, but I need a cup of coffee. And you’re the only one who can do that. Because you have super powers. Only you know what I need. Only you have the power to get that one special cup of coffee. And Kevin goes off to get it. And by the time he comes back, the ambulance and police are there and Kevin is on his way to St.Luke’s psych ward.


One of the two octogenarian Belnord peace activist Shirleys from across the street has come to plead for continued occupation. She and the other Shirley had gone down to Zucotti and put up their  own money to buy emergency supplies. She works me like a veteran activist. 

How do you preach to a congregation that’s filled with  occupiers? It’s the last official day. They’ve come to say sorry, to say thanks, to make amends. We begin by singing a calming Taize chant, confitemini domino....come and fill our hearts with your peace...and then because I know what’s coming, I move the scriptures, the sermon up. 

John reads Deuteronomy 18: 15-20, Andre chants Psalm 115, Marsha reads 1 Corinthians 8: 1-13. Arcadia reads Mark 1: 21-28 in Spanish and I in English. Tell them there are several things at issue today...

I ask, Who’s the leader of #ows? And of course the answer is no one, we all are. I lift up 

first the idea of prophets. in Deuteronomy...The LORD your God will raise up for you a prophet  from among your own people; you shall heed such a prophet...tell them that’s what God says when Moses is gone. After Moses. And it always seems to be that way. Someone always seems to be  lifted up...but... I’m not so sure anymore. Marian Wright Edelman said it: there will be no more MLK, no more Gandhi. It’s got to be us....

Paul staes it more clearly:

We know that "all of us possess knowledge." Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up. (Any thoughts on this one beyond word?) There is beyond this the idea of the  equality of intelligence...that all of us together are smarter than one of us alone. .Presbyterianism is supposed to be built on that principle. 

Anyone who claims to know something does not yet have the necessary knowledge;

Then how do I make sense of all this stuff about food sacrificed to idols?  Forget all the stuff about idols, watch what Paul’s saying about decision making..: His argument is, we know the idols are  not real, therefore to eat food sacrificed to them doesn’t matter, so you can do it, but if you do, you might mess up someone who thinks they are real...

OK...what’ exactly does that mean for us? Like we said last week, all things for us, are lawful, not all are beneficial... you follow me? 

For example,  when I was growing up, when we  did eucharist, communion, it was grape juice, Welch’s grape juice. The first time I went to an early Sunday eucharist at an Epsicopal church and they had tawny port, wow! But then in the ’70’s, we said wine was ok and we were all like see we can be Christians and have wine ...but then...THIS church, West-Park, by its tradition, for our regular communion, uses grape juice. Why? Koinonia, or in otherwords, solidarity. Because some folks struggle with alcohol, right? So some churches have cup A with wine, Cup B with juice, but you know what? it’s suposed to be ONE cup, so, not because its not allowed, but because we CHOOSE to, we only use juice. ONE CUP.

We make choices. Can you extend the analogy here? We don’t do some things that there’s nothing wrong with doing because it might mess up others...choices...free will, respect, not rules...

8:12 But when you thus sin against members of your family, and wound their conscience when it is weak, you sin against Christ.

When he’s saying family, he doesn’t mean just your actual family, he  means your community, whatever that is. If it’s a church, to hurt another brother or sister is like to hurt Jesus because we all bear his name. In a community, to hurt a brother or sister  is like hurting God, because  God is in each and every one if us, we all bear the image of God, and God is in the intersection between us....

Finally...Jesus and the demons..can you believe we have this passage today? .in the Bible, the demons, they always recognize him...why? how? It’s that 666 thing..it's not some spooky thing, it's 7 was perfect and 666 is as close to perfect as you can get...ie, sometimes, the evil one is so close to the holy one as to be hard to tell apart, good and evil, so close...

There ‘s another story, about one possessed with demons who runs around naked until Jesus casts out the demons and the one previously possessed appears clothed and in his right mind...(which is how I want to see you all when I get here in the morning...)

SO if it’s confusing, go back a step...when you act, always ask the question, who will it hurt? Who will it help? How do we build up the whole? The greater good? Do I always know? No, I don’t but that is what guides, that is what we are called to...

Instead of the planned offertory, Andre sings Great is thy faithulness, and as I expected, at the end, he goes for the high note...and you can hear a pin drop, before the amens...

I put the prayers at the end of the sermon, not before, as usual.. and asked the children to stay because I know what’s coming...one after another, occupiers stand up to apologize, to thank us...one who speaks in tongues, nervously, another who says, I do that, too, let me help you with that...quietly, softly, humby the words keep coming...finally Marsha gets up and says, we want to thank you...for waking us up, for saying what no one wanted to say, we are better for your having been here with us...

And then Kelly, no dress today but a black suit and clerical collar, gets up, quotes Matthew 25, thanks us for having lived that out, and gives us $1600 in cash...and we hug...

We pass the peace. Sing I’ve got peace like a river, tengo paz como un rio, then gather  in our circle. After the benediction, we sing our Amen to the tune of the Pachelbel canon, and I say, you have just particpated in Occupy Pachelbel...

Later, the session meets. We are clear what we want to say to Presbytery. We are a church. Treat us with the same dignity and respect as any other congregation. That’s the bottom line. The session wants the occupiers to stay. After all, says Marsha, the banks never paid us back for what they stole from us...

The detectives have come in and disappeared. I give up looking for them, figure, they’re detectives, they’ll find me..there’s a knock on the door. It’s Jane with the detectives, Nancy Drew, girl detective reporting, she says, and Hugo looks quizzical. I’ll explain later, says Arcadia. And we all laugh. The detectives see a pile of hundreds on the table. It looks like a drug deal has just gone down. And I go to give them a tour of the church. 

The font  cover is still missing. The detectives, satisfied, leave.. On 86th street, there’s the Hatzolah volunteer ambulance waiting. Maria has had a seizure. A day that began and ended with ambulances. With grace and reonciliation in between. And as Jane says, and so it is.....

A woman with a mandolin and a drag queen

9/15

Danielle and I are caught in that constant whirl of things needing to be done and not sure where to go next. A woman, Anita, comes in, says she's interested in the play going on here. Actually, with the Dark Lady Players’ Shakespeare’s Gospel Parodies, there’s two plays going on here right now. Anita seems interested in them both. (John is rightfully excited that his Dark Lady production got a big picture in ths week’s Time Out New York.) 

(for more information see
http://www.darkladyplayers.com/gospel.htm )

P_______ comes in. She has a yellow rose for me.  I’ve been very worried about her. She came up to me after last Sunday’s service, reminding me of her court appearance the next day. I thought that maybe I coud make it. But waking up in the middle of the night, walking with great pain, I knew I couldn’t  make it. Not by subway for sure. Not even by car.

This was very hard for me. Having walked down this road with her this far, I wanted to be there with her at the end. I knew my presence is helpful. When Andrea asked if someone else could go, I said no. Rightly or wrongly, the presence of clergy beside someone in court always has an impact that’s different from anyone else’s. 

I’m relieved to hear that this wasn’t the end. The judges could not reach a decision. She can remain in her house. For now.  In her house, even with all her challenges, she is making it. If she were to be evicted, well, she would be at least incredibly vulnerable. 

Over and over again I realize the importance of PHEWA’S Serious Mental Illness Network. It’s one of the most difficult parts of urban ministry. I have to deal with it on almost a daily basis.

We end the day by going outside and putting up posters for our showing this  weekend of Divided We Fall: Americans in the Wake...It’s a film about the experiences of the Sikh community following 9/11. IT’s part of our continuing commemoration of the tenth anniversary of 9-11. We wanted not only to remember and memorialize the tragic deaths of thousands but also look at the aftermath, how it afffected different groups in the US. How our civic life has changed in light of 9-11 and  where are we going now.  

Divided We Fall is also the first of our Center’s film  series on hard issues. The series will also include the PBS film Forgiveness, along with a three part discussion and 7th Street, in essence a love song for one particular street in the East Village that helps us look at the issue of and why how urban neighborhoods change. 

Danielle has to be the one to climb up on the scaffolding this time. I can only stand nearby and hold the tape. Soon the posters are up. Time to go.

I come back for the special benefit performance of the Tenant. Jeremy, his wife and uncle are there. Jeremy and I talk about last Sunday’s service, how the music went. Working together with both Jane and I. I have missed that kind of creation, collaboration. 

I feel good on the stairs. I was very concerned how that might go. Walking through the rooms, it’s an interesting crowd. There’s a woman who walks around all night with a mandolin. And a drag queen. This time I go uo to follow the Tall Pale Man  narrative line.  Stephen says it’s his favorite. Plus I’ve been wanting to see Caitlin at work.   It’s dark, somewhat expressionist, with at least two lyrical monologues.

After the peformance, I talk with Caitlin. Sometimes they do their monologues with no one in the room. But they have to keep doing them anyways. (Church feels like that sometimes.) Stephen also has some ideas worth pursuing as to how we actually could finance our project.

As I head home, there’s no one on the steps.