We're here. We're open. We're alive.

9/16

The front doors to the church are closed as I approach. Paul is stretched out alseep on a cardboard bed, a stack of newspapers for a pillow. Excuse me, sir, you can’t sleep here during the day, I say.  We use this door, people come in and out. You’ll have to leave. He looks up at me, nods his head, begins to gather up his things. There’s an empty Smirnoff’s mini and that’s it. 

I go in through the side door. Go to our desk. Text Danielle, Im here, where are you? And she responds, sanctuary. OK, so somehow I missed her. I go check the sanctuary and there she is working on the set up for Sunday’s showing of Divided We Fall. We’ve decided to use the sanctuary instead of the balcony theatre. We’ve borrowed a projector and screen from SPSA. Things seem to be checking out ok so far. Danielle tells me Sara will be in later to finish up and also install our new banner.

Woodshed comes in to prepare for the evening’s performance. Bon Iver has been replaced by a hip hop song today. A woman comes in askinghow she can get tickets. I tell her there’s a sound check going on and to go down and ask.

Sara has arrived. We’re talking about upcoming events. I tell her about the upcoming P&G evening. Show her RL’s press release. She thinks it’s great and will help get the word out.  The final test of the equipment says we’re good to go.

She’s brought along one of their production people, Jake, to help get the banner up. I really don’t like not being able to help. The big ladder is brought out, put up on the scaffolding. Danielle and Jake climb up and onto the scaffolding, Sara remains on the ladder. Working together, using bugees, they get two banners up.  Dream. Real. Hard, they say. Hopefully, they’ll help people realize we’re not vacant, abandoned or derelict. We’re here, We’re open. We’re alive.

Gary Grengrass is walking past the church on his way home. Good shabbes to you,Reverend, he says smiling. And good shabbes to you, too, Gary. I still have to finish the Sunday service and finish up a few things before I go.  It’s late Friday afternoon. It’s turned chilly, like fall. All of a sudden. We must get the boiler solved.

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.

Moving slowly

9/14

The Programming  Committee: John, Katherine, Mim, Ted and Danielle are gatheed in the sanctuary to meey with Sarah of Lupus Dictum to sort some things out.  We’re wanting to getthe bnner up outside,get better advertising, more visibility.  In the middle of our conversation, Danielle sees Boxer Mike and his dogs back again. She goes to talk to him then comes back. Feels like the meeting has been productive and we’re on the right path.  

Outside, there are empty bottles and cardboard again. And between the steps and Barney Greengrass, another pile of crap. Well, not on the steps, but still our responsibility, but not today.I can’t do it and I’m not asking Danielle.

At the corner of 87th, I see Deacon Linda. She’s very concerned about me. Says I look thin. Wants to know all about my surgery. I tell her my story and she gives me a big hug. She's never done that before. Shares with me some of her own medical adventure stories. Amazing how many people have medical stories to tell.  I’m going home for a break.

Danielle tells me Edward has been in to talk several times. Project Reachout hasn’t had any success, but he seems to be seeking them out, concerned about his hand. If nothing else works, we can’t help him to a better solution, we may have to call 911 the next time he won’t move. 

I realize I’m moving slowly, improving but slow.  

I'm there for ya

9/12

A sunny day.  A quiet day. Danielle and I talking through the week ahead. Boiler number one on the list...

9/13 

Things look pretty sketchy on the steps.  Cardboard beds. Empty beer bottles and cans.  No good.  Danielle takes some time to do some cleaning.  

Mike the boxer comes in. His faithful dog behind him. He’s still looking for space to hang up a bag, do some training. Maybe a ring. Do something for the kids. And  could we get backboards up in the gym again? He’s got an album of photos to show us. Lots of kids. He'll have to write up a proposal. And I knowHope i dead set against boxing and kids.  And as always he ends with, Anything you guys need, I’m there for ya, ok? I’m there for ya. He talks about keeping people off the steps as he walks out. 

Sara comes down the steps followed by little towheaded kid. She talls us she’s a nanny in addition to her Lupus Dictum work.  She’s been upstairs checking out the projection equipment for  our screenng of Divided We Fall this weekend. It’s looking good to her. We should get the projection equipment working ok.  

Out on the steps Edward has taken up his post too early.  Edward, I’ve told you before you can’t sleep here during the day.

I ain’t asleep, I’m awake. 

Well,awake, asleep, you can’t be here during the day, not surrounded by cardboard and  botttles.  It’s no good. Upsets the neighbors. Me too.

Leave me alone. 

It’s not about givng you a hard time its about respecting the space. There are rules. You can be here but there are rules. It’s about respect.

All right, all right,leave me alone.

Where’s Boxer Mike when I need him? I go back inside, upset. Ask Danielle to call Reachout. I already did, she says. They’re done for the day, cutbacks...

Right, of course, right...

I head out to meet with RL. To plan the memorial festival in honor of the late,lamented P&G cafe. The last concert they never got to have. WindTide Music and the P&G Tribal Council in association with West-Park Presbyterian Church presents:  A celebration of years: A P&G Live Music Festival.

Remembering 9-11, ten years later

9/11

I’m pacing back and forth in front of the church. I have opened the church but I need someone  who can open the heavy main doors. Can’t do it by myself right now.  Hope arrives and we wait together.Finally Jeremy arrives and serves as my doorman once again.

Jeremy and I go into run through Not by might..I’m getting concerend. Its near eleven and neither Andre or Caleb is here. Jeremy and I decide that if they don’t come, we’ll go ahead by ourseves. 

As he begins on the piano, Andre walks in. Jeremy whispers that he will do Caleb’s part and we’ll do it just as we rehearsed. And we do. And the congregation applauds. But the mervousness in my stomach remains.  

We do the early parts of the service, singing Sanctuary slowly. Reflectively. The scriptures are read and Andre improvises the words of the 23rd Psalm as we chant our responce. Then I begin my sermon.

First thing this morning, the first thing that happened, was a phone call from my friend Uli in Germany,(you may remember him, he’s been here many times.) He’s wanting us to know that he was holding us, our church,our parish, in his prayers. He spoke to me of  how his church in Berlin had prayed for us this morning. And of a large commemoration at the Brandenberg Gate.  His call was moving , just because of the solidarity expressed. But more so as a reminder that 9-11 was something that happened here, but also something that happened in the world. 

On the other hand, I understand the feelings posted on facebook by one of our members that as this date approached, she found herself once again feeling posessive about this experience, that others had no right to this anger, ths grief, that it hapenned here. It happened to us. 

Some people make  things. Our work as Pastors is to help people make sense. So our work as pastors is to help make sense of all this, as if we could. But I want to ask three questions: where were we, where are we, where are we going?

It;s easy to get lost in memory. Those days stand out as if time  out of time. Easy to get lost in memory....Where were we? Some NFL players petitioned the league to wear gloves in their games today  that say, never forget, as if anyone could. We all remember where we were on that day.  I was right here, in this church. In a staff meeting with Katherine, Holly,Angela...waiting for Regi. We got a phone call from him. It didn’t sound right. I thought he must have heard something wrong. By the time Katherine received a phone call from John at work telling her the Pentagon had been hit, I knew it was not a mistake.

We ran home to check on our immediate families. My son Micah was home from school.  When I got there, I watched with him over and over again the loop of the plane flying intto the second tower. 

Our Session gathered. Called all our members to make sure that they were all rght...just like we did before the hurricane, only not just homebound members, everybody. Some used the occasion to vent feelings re. longtime hurts. First lesson: folks wouldn’t necessarily set evreything aside in light of such a horror. For some, feelings  are magnified. Some couples came together, while others split. No real paradigm or patttern. 

Yes, these days were time out of time. We had no idea what was to come, if another shoe would drop. Remember the anthrax scare?  I will always be proud of how this congregation swung into action....we were in every way what a church is supposed to be...(see the recent Presbyterian News Service article on West-Park and 9-11   http://www.pcusa.org/news/2011/9/9/9ll-plus-ten/  ) Our night at Ground Zero, our 18 months as a hub church working with people whose needs fell between the cracks, how we hosted volunteer work groups from around the country, how we received from Presbytery an Angel of 9-11 award. 

Let me share some thoughts on where we were...

We were wounded, vulnerable. For once the rest of the country could look at us wirh a sense of connection.  The cards, letters, thoughts and prayers that came in from all over the country.

We came together, as New Yorkers at our best always do. To live in this city takes the giving and receiving of a 1000 graces a day. We exist as an act of collective will, no force government or other power keeps this thing called New York City together, we choose it. That quality saved us from chaos. 

We were given the opportunity to understand our connectedness to others who have suffered, who do suffer around the world. To connect with Berlin and Beirut, Gaza and Guernica. We had that opportunity.

Where was God? Many people ask. But it’s not a hard question for us. In the planes, in the  towers, in the streets,inside these walls, wherever we were, God was. 

Where are we?  We didn’t use that opportunity to live into that connectedness. We allowed our rulers to use the moment as an excuse to pursue their own agendas of power, dominance and control. To launch wars. Wars that couldn’t even qualify as legitmate revenge. Wars that continue to this day, with no great sense of public outrage, or even awareness. A daily Guernica.

Hugo sent me a good article about the NFL and its commemoration. Some aspects of commercialism creeping in.  But ironically, it is in the stadia of this country that the awareness is regularly lifted up. As annoying as the 7th inning God Bless America is at Yankee Stadium, there is no other daily recognition of the reality of  Americans fighting in wars overseas. The reality of that for them and their families. (As well as the people who live where they are fighting.) Perhaps we need at least a weekly reminder in church that we are still in two active wars.

Our gospel lesson today focues on forgiveness. At least one of my colleagues is focusing her sermon on that. Some of my colleagues tried to go to forgiveness that first Sunday after. I couldn’t. It was important to just let ourselves experince the moment as it was before trying to go anywhere. However the issue is still important. For that reason we are gong to do a series on the recent PBS film called Forgiveness. Our former intern Eleanor Harrison is going to lead this series. 

Forgiveness remains a challenge. It is not reconciliation. It is a letting go. As one friend said, giving up for all time the hope for a different past.  We do it for ourselves. To give oursleves a chance to own our own lives. So that are lives are not consumed by the hurt that was done. 

In plannning today’s service, my first impulse was to recreate as much as I  could. To reexperince the service from the first Sunfday after. Then  I realized we could not. We were where we were, are where we are. We’ve recreated some of the music, at least to remind us of who we have been, and are. I continue to be amazed that in the late 1880’s a mainline Protestant church would choose Not by might, nor by power  as its Biblical slogan. ... I wish I could talk to them about that choice. Over the years, it has defined us. 

Where are we going? First, we must keep caring, especially for one another. That caring  kept us, will keep us.

After that, transformation..The vision of the Center grows directly out of my experience of 9-11, witnessing the power of destruction, of deconstrucion and denial of life. The power of evil. From this grew my idea of creation as resistance, as partnership with God. Later in October, when Jane and I begin our study series, we chose Genesis as our subject and  as our title  In the Beginning, because its all about creation, how we continue to create oursleves, our community.

So we must seek to continue to be a community of caring, of resistance, of creation.... that is our path. That is the path from memory to the place we are moving towards, to truly being who we ae called to be.

Jane has graciously agreed to come and back me up due to my uncertainty of how much I could do. So after I finish the sermon I sit down and ask her to lead the prayers of remembrance and of intercession. 

Andre sings his Here’s to Life, just as he did that first Sunday. And in our Bridge Concert series. Even more than Old Man River, this is his signature song. 

We collect our offering and then sing Pues Si Vivimos/ When We Are Living, beautiful Spanish song based on Romans14: 1-12. Living or dying, we belong to God. We make our circle,announce the benediction, pass the peace.  I realize that even when things aren't  exactly what you wanted, it i still  possible to do something, to worship, with integrity and authenticity.

We stay with each orher awhile, then slowly begin to leave. Jane has invirted us as a group, to join in her congregation’s interfaith service at 2 PM. Several of our members want to go there. I need a rest.

Walking up Amsterdam, I feel I’m walking easier than before the surgery.

A good rehearsal

9/10

Jeremy doesn’t recognize me at first in my street clothes, old Seattle Rainiers shirt and ball cap.  Need him to open up the front doors. We go down to the Beckstein. We want to get Not by might...set before anyone else arrives. We go over it and over it as he begins to feel it. 

Caleb walks in and comes down to the piano. Jeremy asks him to just listen until he understands what we’re up to. Then he begins adding his high baritone over top of my voice. We’re getting there. Finally Andre walks in, wearing his fedora. He sits down and begins to listen. Now we’re working on a call and response, Caleb high, Andre low.

Andre has a skeptical look on his face. I know what you’re trying to do, but it just ain’t makin it. Just ain’t there. But just tell me what you want, I’ll be quiet and do it, he says. 

So what’s wrong? asks Jeremy.

It’s about structure, says Andre. 

OK, I think we’re almost there, we’ve got solo voice, twice through with call and response, piano improv then repeat and out...and I’ve got another idea...

Andre continues to look skeptical. But then he says, OK, let’s work on that ending...and he begins to work out how it should resolve.

And we all do it again. It’s going to work.  Then we go to the 23rd Psalm. Work through the repeated refrain...the Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want, the Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want...and then Andre begins to improvise the text over and above the chanted refrain..... He maketh me to lie down in green  pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters..... Caleb looks up at him intently. OK, we’ve got that one too. 

I’d originally wanted to recrerate all our music from that first service after 9-11. But then I remembered, each musician had chosen their own. That was what was important. So I invite Andre and Caleb to choose what they feel moved to sing. Andre is thinking I come to the garden..., Caleb’s not sure.

Jeremy has to take off. Andre and I continue to talk. He’s remembering how Bill Schimmel created these pieces with us, his combination of creative collaboration and precise, crafted structure, so carefully done as to be almost invisible. He did that not only with individual pieces of music but with the whole service, constructing what he called the liturgical architecture. That’s one rare gift, says Andre. I feel privileged to having been able to experience that, I say.

Andre says something to Caleb, wanting to draw him into the conversation. He’s lost in his Ipod. How old are you young man? Andre asks. I’m twenty, Caleb replies.  Ah, that explains it, says Andre.

I ask Caleb to lock up the heavy front doors. It’s been a good rehearsal. It’s time to go.

Back to the steps

9/9

Walking, carefully, down Amsterdam with Mim, my longest walk so far after surgery. Feeling very vulnerable.  First time to see the steps this week. The steps from the street to the door seem daunting. But I take them one at a time. And realize what Hope has told to tell me about no rail to hang on to when you reach the top.It takes some maneuvering.  I’m seeing a lot of things from a different perspective.

Inisde, Hope, Danielle, Mim and I are talking about the boiler. This  is the pricnciple issue in front of us. We’re on the verge of losing committted rentals if we can’t gaurantee heat. I don’t know what we have  to do to get a response from our city council member. It’s been six weeks since our community meeting, we feel stalled. Jammed up.

The green solutions seem to rquire having something to replace, not starting from scratch.  Does the asbestos have to be abated before work begins? Can it simply be encapsulted?  Is it possible at all to fire up one of the old ones, just for this winter? (Doesn’t seem to be.) We need to figure out the most efficient, cheapest way to do this and move forward. And where will the money come from? This is it right now. This is the challenge. 

Mim asks if I want her to wait to walk me home. I think for a minute. No, I’ll try it on my own. I think     I 'm ready.

It’s getting late. Time to pull together our service for the 10th anniversary of 9-11. Trying to figure out what’s possible with limited resources. Jane and Jeremy will be there to help. How much do we recreate from that first Sunday after’s experience? How much do we look back, and how much forward? 

I talk, Danielle types. Enough for today. Time to go. Danielle offers to go with me. I thank her. And head back up Amsterdam, on my own. One step at a time.