Undefeated

10/25

Session meets early. Anxieties rising. It’s easy to look ahead and see the wall. Like the one on the Mexican border or between Israel and Palestine. Or at the 20 mile mark of any marathon. That’s what it feels like. We have resources. The question is how to use them wisely to build towards a future. We all feel a bit done in by meeting’s end.

The cast of Othello is hard at work preparing for next week’s workshop performance.

My son is heading to Phoenix for a week so there’s a family brunch before he goes.

The NMASS band

Tonight the National Movement Against Sweatshops NMASS) , the SWEAT campaign, Sweat Shop Free Upper West Side and Justice Will Be Served gather at West-Park for a party celebrating their recent victories against Domino’s Pizza and Indus Valley. Even though that last one took six years, the reality is that NMASS and the SWEAT coalition is undefeated against the big corporate players.  It’s a pretty impressive record for a group of grass roots workers in an exemplary Chinese- Latino coalition to have never fought a losing battle. The focus now is on Governor Cuomo.

Gov. Cuomo

When I get up to speak,

JoAnn  tells me to watch my time because everything has to be translated into Spanish, Mixtecoe Fujian Chinese. You have to love it. The table is laden with Chinese and Latino foods. The evening begins with the NMASS band playing some original protest songs. When I speak, I welcome them to our church, our house, nuestra casa es su casa…and remind them that they are undefeated…and will be undefeated because the cause is just and right.

Pastor Heidi and I laugh about when Domino's went after us. And we talk about the next steps in our community wide food justice work . I watch the people dancing, all shapes and sizes, that wonderful spirit that transcends class, shape, age or color. Then dj’s lights are flashing. The Latin beat pulsing…la lucha sigue…

 

Carlos and the NMASS leadership and Pastors Bob and Heidi

Bread&Puppet world

11/6

Gertrude died today. At 103. One year older than West-Park. When I first arrived here, she lived one block north of the church in a Sr. Citizen section 8 that eventually went market rate when all the contracts of the late sixties war on poverty began to expire.  I loved her retirement independent/assisted living place she moved into when she left her house.  I used to enjoy their theme parties, their Friday afternoon happy hours. And her 100^th birthday party.  When she moved t the Throg’s  Neck , two hours away by public transportation, I became harder. I’m sorry that I didn’t get to say goodbye.

I make it back from a Social Witness Council meeting in the Village in time to catch the last half of Bread and Puppet’s opening night. It’s a pretty full house. And as I look around, a lot of silver hair to be seen.  People who remember B&P from when they were young.  And the US seemed on the verge of a sea change. The War ended. But basically what we got was the American cultural revolution.

The world that B&P creates has the feel of  ‘70’s avant garde.  But also something medieval. Or even deeper. Ancient. Archetypal. Drawing on both ritual and spectacle. Accompanied by their Cheap Art Sale, B&P continues to be an act of resistance. They’ve never once wavered or wandered Cirque de Soleil style into the mainstream or cultural elite. Their collective work, their communal daily meals for the whole company, all continues to be an expression of visionary resistance. From the guerilla theatre of the streets to their Vermont compound, it continues.

Company founder Peter Schumann is now 80. Somehow gentle and steely at the same time. Still vivid, as Zeljko would say. And though the audience is gray, the company is filled with young people. And there are younger audience members around the edges. The performance ends with bread being brought to a central table and Schumann cutting slices to be dabbed with their special aioli from large wooden bowls and spoons. Carnivale style animals lead the audience to the table and there’s something eucharistic about it. Or again to the deeper roots that underlie the eucharist.  Free bread. Cheap art. Political theatre.

The anniversary also includes a retrospective of  50 years of Schumann’s work at the Queens Museum. And a downtown bookstore printed works exhibit. (http://breadandpuppet.org/50th-anniversary-2/50th-anniversary-events-calendar )

Trailer for the Shatterer: http://vimeo.com/75177278

Once again, that intersection of beauty and justice, ethics and esthetics…

There are no coincidences

6/14

The Sentinel appears every day. Sits in the south doorway. Says nothing. Stares at the street for a few hours. Then leaves. 

Marc is hard  at work with a plan to install some new plugs and systems so that we won’t trigger the breakers every time we fully light the place. I’m alarmed to see a light on under the balcony stage, but it's Marc, hard at work. 

Long talk with Teddy . Some of the earlier visions of Occupy Wall Street are getting smaller. Well in a sense. For him, it’s more about being part of a community. Doing his part. Expecting others to do their part. His presence here, it makes a difference. He has truly become part of our community. 

Eldridge comes in. I can never much understand what  he’s saying. Have to listen real close.  Finally I make out Metro Card and give him money for a new card. 

David comes by to pick up some equipment, talk with Teddy about the grate project. Lots of father's day conversations going on.

There are two old guys sitting on the steps, passing an Ivanov vodka bottle back and forth, talking, telling tales.  Like characters in an August Wilson play. I tell them they’re welcome but the vodka’s not going to work. They tell me it works quite well, I say, ok, but not here. They grumble  a bit, move on.  

I need to get a fax done at 85 Copy. As I step outside, Martin is there looking for me. I take him to the  B, it’s the end of the day. The current crisis in Spain is making him rethink his situation. The staggering youth unemployment. Loss of hope, increasing drug use. Increased harassment of immigrants, especially Africans. He says to me, Growing up in Spain, every time things get chaotic, there’s some fascist dictator takes over. I don’t think its going to happen. But I don't want my kids there right now.  He wants to reopen discussions about coming into our house. And I’m all for it. Tell him he’ll have to speak with Jamie. She asks the hard questions. We’ll find out quickly if we can make it work. The energy and passion of his work is something I really want to be with us. He’ll come back tomorrow when Jamie is there. Martin says there are no coincidences. 

Inside, I hear the sounds of Kum Ba Ya coming from the rehearsal in the Balcony Theatre. Deep slow African-American voices. 

The man with the gold teeth says his name is Jesus Diablo, ie, Jesus Devil. Says that’s his birth name. 

A feeling of light at the end of the tunnel

6/6

Back from a morning in court with P_______. Finally she has an attorney pushing back against the unconscionable avarice of her landlord. Counter suing for unlawful enrichment. It’s late in the game, but still a chance for justice. Every time I leave court, wandering through Chinatown to get back to the train I feel disoriented. 

Mim comes in to plan the agenda for this afternoon’s Center Board meeting. Much is at stake. The window is not a big one. 

Piano Dan is in the sanctuary tuning the Beckstein. I always love to hear him at work. Steve is working with Paula and Leo and their lighting person getting ready for Saturday’s big benefit for their friend with a serious problem with her autoimmune system. The old 29th Street Rep Theatre gang is pulling together for this. Sorry i won’t be able to be there. 

Marissa comes by to wrap up some details from last week’s Movement Research Festival. We’re mutually pleased with the results. 

Steve comes int to tell me that there’s someone asleep on the steps. And it’s only 4 PM. I go out to see. And am surprised to see that it’s Edward Green, aka Human Being. Edward, I say, haven’t seen you in a long time. I thought you had  a place to stay. 

Nah, man. I wish. No place. 

So the deal’s still the same, I say, you can’t be here during the day. You have to get dressed, get going. 

He nods. Steve will be nearby around to see that he goes. 

Deacon Linda is going down the street to her volunteer work at Westside Campaign Against Hunger. She stops to show me pictures of her new apartment. She is very proud. I’ll have to have people over,  she says. And promises to come back to worship soon. We talk about last Sunday night’s work together at the homeless shelter at SPSA. The great meal Kate made. And celebrating the woman who now has a job and a home. Thanks to the Interfaith Assembly. You won’t see no more, she said. Hey you can always volunteer, said Kate. 

I head out to visit Rachel. She didn’t make it to church last week because she had fallen.  Need to see how she’s doing. Tell her Bonnie is anxious to get to know her better. 

The big event of the day is our center Board meeting. We are meeting with a prime potential partner for our Interfaith Center. The discussion goes well. Our visions are very much in line. Jamie asks the hard questions which always puts my stomach in knots.  But they have to be asked. Financial realities are, well, financial realities. Specific assignments are made. Work to be done. We will meet again next week. When our guests leave, we continue our discussion. More assignments made. 

I think about how the day began. How it ended. For the first time in a very long time, a feeling of light at the end of the tunnel. 

Apparently there was a stabbing at the shelter

5/23

I meet Tracy and Wendy at Holy Name where we’re meeting with Father Mike to see if we can use the cafeteria of the school for a celebration of the victory of the workers at V&T pizza. It’s a major step in our sweatshop free neighborhood campaign,an opportunity to get everyone together...maybe even the bosses ...It’s even brought the neighboring institution Hungarian Pastry Shop on board as well. Father Mike, one of the founders of Westsiders for Peace and Justice, seems ope and it looks like we’ve got a place for the event. I walk down Amsterdam a  ways with them then head home before going to the church.

We’ve got a major dance festival coming up next week which will fill up most of the building. Need to solve the Occupiers issues by then. We’ve got another visit by the Fire Department with Teddy serving as host and talking about his uncle, a former firefighter. Other than refilling the fire extinguishers, we’re okay.

I’ll use the free time to grab a quick visit to Jack. Former jazz player, playwright and actor, college dean, poet, life mentor. The bus back up Amsterdam to meet Jane. 

There’s a young couple from Williamsburg waiting to talk about getting married. Melisa has a rehearsal in the chapel so since the people from A Course on Miracles chant, they’ve been moved to the sanctuary. With so much activity, I take the couple across the street for a cup of coffee.  Turns out they’re theatre people and an interfaith couple. Laid back, down to earth not billburg hip, just young. Want to get married under the bridge.

Jane and I are meeting with Runi to make clear that she and Chris need to be headed back to Portland by Tuesday. No choice. Teddy can take a day to drive them. Jane and I will help hook it up for them. I know they’d rather not go at all, and that’s hard on me. 

Jamie drops by and as we head up the street to the B, I notice David and Donna on the steps. Along with a Mexican guy and the white guy in the box. Apparently there was a stabbing at the shelter and they’ve come back. Yes, this is hard. 

Fourth Sunday in Easter: Good Shepherd Sunday 2012

4/29

At the copy shop, my freind tells me that he’s not been open these last two Sundays because his father died and he had to go back to Bangladesh. I tell him I’m sorry for his loss, and happy to see him again.

We open the service with The King of Love my Shepherd is, an Irish setting of the 23rd Psalm. Amy is still stuck in the middle of the 59th Street Bridge so it’s a capella. Marsha reads Acts 4: 5-12 for us and Amy arrives just in time to lead us in the response to Psalm 23, which we recite people’s mic style, in the King James Version. Never really sounds right any other way. And we do so in Spanish as well. Teddy reads the Epistle from 1 John 3: 16-24. And I do the Gospel, John 10:  11-18.

Every fourth Sunday in Easter is Good Shepherd Sunday. At the center is probably the most beloved Bible passage, Psalm 23. We talk about our memories, our feelings about this passage. For  most it brings comfort, a sense of peace and calm in the midst of trouble, a word that casts out fear. I’ve never done a funeral without it. Leila says in the movies, it’s what a condemned prisoner recites before execution.

I ask who has been shepherds for us? Although some say both parents, almost every one else named is a woman, a mother or aunt.  We’re urban people. We don’t see many sheep, except at street fair petting zoos, sawdust in dirty wool. I mention that even in  Jesus' time the image conjured a nostalgiac memory. In his own time, shepherds lived beyond the walls, somewhat suspect. 

For my kids, their shepherd was Kenny the porter for our apartment building who watched them safely to the bus in the morning and greeted them when the returned in the afternoon. The tricky part in the Bible is the part about laying down one’s life for the sheep. As Jesus says, I offer it up, no one takes it from me. 

It’s the week of the Tribeca Film Festival, often a home for edgy, cinema verite type films. One of my favorite films this year is Booker’s Place. A film about an African-American man, Booker Wright, in Greenwood, Mississippi at the peak of the Civil Rights era. He was a much beloved waiter at the city’s most popular restaurant, Lusco’s. When NBC came to do a documentary, they captured Booker in his song song incantation of the restaurant’s menu, never on paper. But then he went on to talk about his experience of disrespect, and demeaning treatment. He went so far as to mimic and mock those who insulted him, while he continued to smile. NBC wondered whether to run it or not. He insisted that they run it. And that led to the torching  of his restaurant, the loss of his job and ultimately his life. He insisted that he do it so that his children would not have ot go through what he lived through. No one took his life from him. He laid it down on his own. And thereby robbed the forces of evil of their power.

I don’t like to criticize other denominations. God knows we Presbyterians.....But I am astounded that in this day the Vatican would seek to silence its nuns. Seems that they devote too much time to the poor and not enough to important issues like opposing same sex marriage. These women have a median age of 70! They offer up their lives daily for the poor and oppressed. Who are the true shepherds here? I'm thankful for the movement We are all nuns whuch has collected over 150,000 signatures so far. 

Maybe that's why this Sunday comes at the peak of the Easter season every year. Because this is the essence of resurrection living, to be a shepherd. To offer up one’s life for others....

We conclude our service with On Christ the Solid Rock I Stand.... and join hands for our Amen.

Imtiaz, Nadia and Alayna

Nadia, Alayna, Bob, Hope

After the service, Nadia and her husband. Imtiaz  bring their new baby daughter  Alayna for a visit. Nadia studied West-Park as part of her dissertation. And became our friend. Brought the NYU Muslim Student Organization to West-Park for a  service day, working side by side with us. She’s brought my dissertation back to me. Defends her own this week. It’s a joy to hold Alayna. 

The Session meets to seek a strategy to deal with the avalanche of issues legal, financial and ecclesiastical now swirling around us. Need to stay clear headed, focused. 

Palms to Passion Sunday 2012

4/1

There are some days that start as if the universe has stripped a gear. Like you are out of sync with the cosmos in some way. Or maybe it’s just April Fools’ Day.  85Copy’s closed when I go to get the bulletins. There’s no one around when I first get to the church. Wesley and Antonia are still on the steps and it’s after 10:30. Later, Rafael will help me move them, Andre looking on, shaking his head. I think thet're incapable of following the guidelines you've set up, he says.  I’ve left my cell phone at home and Dan has left for church already so I’ll have to cab home and back to get it. People are waiting and ready When I get back, Amy has just arrived. 

The service is a little shaky gettig underway. It’s an adaptation oif a sevice  Katherine and I came up with years ago in which the liturgy moves with Jesus through  Holy Week with Stephen Mitchell’s telling of the Gospel as its text.

We read of the triumphant entry, singing Hosanna.  I remember other times, processing around the sanctuary following Greg Beyer with the berimbau. Jed Distler’s amazing creation with Katherine of the Great Round Dance of the Cross. When in the narrative Jesus prays, we pray. When they sing a psalm, we sing a psalm (118) When he breaks bread with his friends, we break bread. 

When we reach the time of  reflection, I’m starting to feel more at ease. I ask everyone to raise their palms, wave them. I ask them  I ask what it feels like to be on a march? At a rally?  For Stephen, there’s the excitement of the crowd, the chanting. For Hope, the feeling of togetherness. And for Rafael, who works security,  the stress that comes from having  to watch everything. That’s what the front end of this was all about. Palm Sunday was not a religious event. It’s not like Jesus said well next week is Easter so we need something to kick off the week....maybe something special for the children....

Check this out....Palm Sunday was primarily a political event.....what were the issues?

• The Roman Empire occupying their country, back when occupy was only a negative word.
• Taxation without representation, money going to support the Empire
• Support of local leaders for the empire, the ethnarchs, the Herods, who ruled over their own people on behalf of the Romans.  

The event itself was many things...symbolically a mocking of a Roman victory parade, with #OWS cutting humor style. Imagine signs, chants, down with the empire, Rome go home..Some were hoping it was the start of the revolution...and Jesus was the guy who was going to be the leader...there bits of evidence  here and there in the Gospel that seem to indicate an underground movement with coded signs, this man with a colt, that one carrying a water jug... 

OK...so why do we do it this way? How did Palm Sunday and Passion Sunday get mashed together? Palm Sunday used to stand on its own, then you woud have to go through a long week of church services. As more and moe people stopped doing that, those who set the liturgical calendar wanted to make sure that we don’t just jump from one high to another. Palm Sunday straight to Easter. Pablo Richard, a theologian from Costa Rica, says that his problem with North American  Chirstiansis that they  want to jump too quickly to the happy ending.  We need  to remind peopl that to get to Easter, you have to pass thru Good Friday, that there is  no resurection without crucixion .... so we jam it all up into one day, two liturgies, one of the Palms, one of the Passion. Can’t we have just one day to  enjoy the feeling that we might win? 

In the middle we find the story of the woman who shows uo and anoints Jesus’ head  with costly  oil. Though not named, from medieval pop culture to Jesus Christ Superstar she’s ben associated with  Mary Magdalene . The hardcore ideologues complain. Jesus is clear that the poor will be with us always. Not that they should be, but given human nature, they will be. There will always be ample opportunity to care for them. But Jesus will not be with us long. What she brings is extravagant loving....and that is to be honored...

Don’t follow leaders
Watch the parkin’ meters

said Dylan..long before #ows. When did Jesus get that he  wasn’t  going to be the new Che Guevara? Last Thursday night, here, Cornel West said that  No one should want to be a leader, leader’s get killed...instead we should be lovers...who love the people relentlessly...

People aren’t necesarily ready for that kind of leadership. look how fast people get pulled dowh by their own..Jesus gets himself betrayed by one of his own. And yet he embraces the moment and goes with it. 

This week is a journey ..open yourself to it...pass through the valley..see what might be on the other side..We finish with these words from the Gospel of Thomas:

The disciples of Jesus said to him, "When is the kingdom going to come?" Jesus said, "It is not by being waited for that it is going to come. They are not going to say, 'Here it is' or 'There it is," Rather, the kingdom is spread out over the earth, and people do not see it."

Jesus said, “I stood at rest in the midst of the world. And to them I was shown forth incarnate. I found them all intoxicated. And I found none of them thirsty. And my soul ached for the children of humankind, for in their hearts, they do not see. Empty did they enter the world, and again empty they seek to leave the world. Now they are intoxicated. When they shake off their wine, then they will have a change of heart.

This week as we gather in our circle there are no Alleluias, just a simple Amen. 

Hope and Ana teaching Sunday School. The Session meets to review the events of the week, discuss Melissa's proposal.


We leave palms on the steps. Across the course of the aftrnoon, they are all taken. 

The Thirteen Grandmothers

Late in the afternoon, I come back for  Jane’s showing of For the Next Seven Generations. It’s a film produced and directed  by Carol Hart (Sesame Street, Free to be You and Me...) about the 13 indigenous grandmothers who have come together to pray for peace, pray for the earth. The scenes shot at El Santuario de Chimayo bring me back to that special place where, as they say, the veil is thin. Two grandmothers form the Mohawk nation, Iroqouis Confederacy, sing native songs of blessing. 

Wesley has been listening. Now that’s interesting, he says.

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