Baroque, Barqu, Barque, Borracho, Boxer

3/12

Hope comes in to work on our first memo of understanding for those working in our building, needing to clarify roles, responsibilities, etc.  Signs announcing a public hearing regarding our building causing consternation. Need to get to the bottom of this.

Stephen digging deeper into the organ issue. Makes contact with the Austin Organ Company. Learning the history of our unique instrument and its unique (eccentric?) creator Allan Van Zoeren who may have been the first link in West-Park’s curious connection with Portland, Oregon. At some point, he got taken by the idea of going Baroque and rigged it up accordingly. So now Austin calls it a hybrid. We wind up trying to figure out how to turn the old instrument on. We find the bellows and manage to get it on, but the keyboard remains elusive. RL’s attention is drawn to the project and he provides a jack of all trades supervisor’s eye. The organ was last played by Leila’s father, Samir, deep into the days after the church was closed. He loved that instrument, made it his own.  

RL and Poet Tim invite me up to the studio. RL’s been working on archival material for the Dream project. telling the story of his Barqu Barque. Barqu, of course, being the demon responsible for the philospopher’s stone, maintainer of ancient wisdom. RL figured that was a good icon for his old books store. His dream was of a schooner which turned into a full sail pushcart with wagon wheels and a cargo of books. It’s a long story. Spoiler alert: ends with a breakdown, a flask, a limo and Staten Island boat burial. Better wait for the movie.

The Mexican from yesterday has returned. Near to pass out drunk. I’m very concerned. Too drunk to make sense. Mi hermano, no se puede estar aqui en este condicion. He just stares back. Martin comes out, says pretty much the same thing, except in proper  castellano. We decide to call 911. Martin tells him he’s going off to get coffee for him. To not go anywhere. Esparase. I have to go inside a minute When I come back, el borracho is gone. Martin returns with the coffee. Damn, Need to call off the EMT's. I’ll take the coffee.

Basta. Enough. Time to go home. Rachelle has found me. Tells me  she’s missed me. Asks if I’m going to the St. Patrick’s day parade. Church morning I say. She smiles. Boxer Mike approaches with his Dalmatians. Wearing a classic felt and leather boxing club jacket with embroidered gloves and sweats, wearing his old school Golden Gloves medal. I been tryin to get a room from you for two years, he says. Keep tellin’ you, wrote me a proposal, I respond. All I need is a place to hang my bags, he says, for the kids. He hangs with me until the Dalmatians decide to go elsewhere. Just some bags, he calls over his shoulder as he disappears down a cross street, just some bags....

The most important passage in the Bible?

3/11

Stephen and Marsha have been sorting through different projects that would be possible Kickstarter campaigns. He’s especially excited and intirigued by the  organ. Digging into the Internet. Seeing what he can find out online about it. 

The mumbling man is back again and again it costs me. 

RL and Poet Tim stop through on their way up to the studio.

Cara is alternating between Jane’s Addiction and a Lebanese woman singing oriental chants. Between 80’s strip clubs and desert convents. She stretches slowly and easily as the  dancer she is. I’m amazed at her supple flexibility, wish I could have seen her at the top of her game. She tells Stephen and I about her feathers.  For women and fems in recovery, marking  their sobriety anniversaries with peacock feathers. For the more manly men, it’s pheasant feathers. The peacock feather was her first awakening to a higher power. The intricacy and delicacy of pattern and design, like an Indian fabric, like paisley. She laughs and says, so when you see this and remember your higher power, you’ll remember  I got mine...

There’s an old Mexican asleep in a back  pew. She’s given him water. Anna’s afraid he’ll asperate. And we’ll be responsible. We get him up before Bible study, but while we’re deep in the Garden of Gethsemane, he slips back in. 

That’s where we are tonight in the Garden of Gethsemane with Jesus. (Mark 14: 32-42) The third time he’s prayed. At the beginning, the middle, the end of his journey. Always in a quiet, deserted place. Away. By himself. He asks his friends to stand by, to stay awake. Knowing that while one will betray him, all will desert him. Still he can hope. 

His emotions? The Greek behind distressed and agitated...grieved unto death...is all extreme...like the deepest anguish, a heart pushed to brokenness, as Keierkegaard put it, fear and trembling and sickness unto death.  He knows what’s up ahead and with everything in side of him does not want want to go there. 

Why? Why must he go there? It is the critical question.  Anna has read a book by Albert Schweitzer that analyzes Jesus as manic depressive, even paranoid schizophrenic, what we’d call bipolar.  For John,  Jesus has to die because of our sin, because of what happened in the Garden  of Eden.  I explain that in the Jewish tradition, it’s not so much the fall as it is the story of coming to consciousness. Leaving the garden is about having to live as a responsible adult in the world. Still John  has spoken clearly traditional Christian theology. For Marsha, the idea of a God demanding blood sacrifice of his own son just doesn’t work. John speaks of the Old Testament God. And I say that there are at least two if not three images of God in the Old Testament. And that the traditional theological argument leads me into an intellectual cul de sac.

The answer seems to me to come from the context of a Passover seder/season. Jesus as the Paschal lamb. The blood that was sprinkled over the doorposts of the children of Israel so that the angel of death would pass over them. So in this context, Jesus’ blood is not to take away sins, but to save from death.

(We’ll leave aside for a moment whether the angel of death should have been smart enough to have figured that out on his ---or her, see American Horror Story, season 2-- own.)

Marsha asks if Jesus himself ever said his mission was to die so that our sins would be forgiven, and the answer is no.

So ...what we are left with is this...Jesus, reluctant, anguished, fearful...chooses to be faithful and follow the path to the end...and thereby, by defeating the fear of death, is transformed. And thereby we, by following that path, can be transformed. It is not about substitutionary atonement (cul de sac) or even martyrology. Only about faithfulness. Bonhoeffer, King, Romero, the Salvadoran nuns...and on...

Marsha says this may be the most important passage in the Bible. And I agree. By choosing to be faithful to the end, the victory is already won. Resurrection becomes icing on the cake, confirmation, so to speak.

And once again, we have found a living word. Made my day. And the words of each and everyone around  the table brought the word alive. Ears to hear.

We also noted that when Jesus kept finding his friends asleep, even adamant Peter, the so called rock, he calls him by his original name, Simon. Rock no more. 

Nevertheless,thy will, not mine be done.  

                            * * * * 

Last Phoenix thoughts. Friday night was a party at Trina’s house. She gathered 20 or so long time faithful friends. people who have stood for women’s reproductive rights, rights of the disabled, immigrant rights, humane borders. Some for half a century or more. To be progressive in New York City is one thing. In a place like Arizona, the dry zone, it’s something else. It comes with a price. To remain faithful for half a century, despite the opposition of neighbor and even your own church people, that takes courage. But what I see in their faces is not tiredness, not exhaustion, but a sense of peace, a sense of joy. Somehow this connects. With the story of Jesus. In the garden. 

The fourth Sunday in Lent: Love that will not let go

3/10

The doors are open. Everything is ready. Took the red eye back from Phoenix arriving at dawn. Cara there to welcome me home. Stephen too.

There are two visitors. A young man, Ray. And an older woman with a bouquet  of flowers who leaves halfway through. Not what she expected. It’s often not what you expect, but if you stick around, something worth your while will happen. 

Today is a familiar story. the one we call the parable of the prodigal son. (Luke 15;1-3, 11b-32 Is there a better title? Someone has said it has been covered from every angle except the  abandoned swine..Who are  the characters? The father, the older son, the prodigal...What are their emotions? Did their youngest son really wish his father  dead? I don’t really think so. Was the older brother about envy?

When she hears how the son had sunk to the lowest job, tending the treif, the unclean animals pigs, hungry enough to want to  to eat their food, she asks, so the youngest son hit bottom?

This is the third in Jesus’  series of lost parables....the sheep, the coin....and now a son. Barbara Lundblad wants us to ask, Where was mom? Aliou Niang, of Union, thinking of his own village in West Africa asks, and what of the community? How were they affected by this series of events?

We agree that the we’re OK in the story  until the party...Why? It’s too much. Welcoming back is one thing. But a party? with the whole village attending? No amends, just a party?

Can we scribes and pharisees be  the older son? In the context of the parable the way Luke tells us, yes. But only if they are us, too. We who are responsible. We who work hard. We who take care of things, keep them going. And since the younger son already took his share, everything the father has is the elder son’s. The father is using what belong to the elder to fete the younger. But even so, we older ones still belong to the father. 

The son had become a nobody: with no home, no place, no future, no food... Another question, raised by Aliou, How did older son know how money had been spent? Is that what he would have done? And I wonder, what are things like a year from now? is the younger son still there? What if he takes off again.

Who are we in this parable?  As in every parable, we are all the characters. We have to experience all of them. 

Just notice , the Father  sees the son from far off, he is is watching and waiting...

I recall the memorial service for one of our original African American members, Ethel. She was one of the circle of live-in domestics who came to worship at West-Park, tired of having to travel to Harlem on Sunday mornings. They integrated West-Park. She ended her days in a public housing project a few blocks up the street. 

During the reflections part of the service. A middle aged man, well dressed in an off white coat, stood up, and tears in his eyes said, I am here because she never gave up on me. She never stopped loving me. I wasn’t even her child, just a kid in the projects. I stole her money. Stole her TV. Stole her toaster. But she never gave up on me. I finally had no choice but to become who I was supposed to be. She never gave up. Her love wouldn’t let me go...

And that is what this is about. Love that will not let go. That doesn’t give up. That is always there. Watching. Waiting....

We sing Amazing grace. But given what we’ve learned about people first, about using the situations of people who are part of our communities as metaphors for spiritual failings, we change the words...

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound

that saved a soul (no wretches here) like me

I once was lost and now am found

Thy love has set me free. 

And in our Spanish version, tu luz me rescato....

Ray stays awhile, wanting to talk about our service.  And the reflection.

The session gathers. Much to talk about as always. And Anna has given us much to think about. Vulnerable people. Those who may not respect vulnerability. Who might take advantage. 

I am tired. Cara is sweeping away as I leave. 

What does the lord require of you?

3/8

I am I Phoenix with my colleagues from the Presbyterian Health, Education and Welfare Association. Our networks cover  all tne areas that touch West-Park in its daily life:

• Addictions
• AIDS
• Serious Mental Illness
• Disabilitites
• Community Transformation
• Domestic violence
• Criminal Justice
• Speciaiized ministries (chaplains)
• Reproductive Options
• Child Advocacy

And we now have a request from the Homeless network seekign affiliation. I have been aprt of this community for 36 years. for better and worse. It is among these people I first saw a vision of church that was not just an idea but a reality. That vision has guided eerything I have done in minsitry over all these years. Our defining Bible  verse is Micah 6: 6-8

“With what shall I come before the Lord,
    and bow myself before God on high?
Shall I come before him with burnt offerings,
    with calves a year old?

7 

Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams,
    with ten thousands of rivers of oil?
Shall I give my firstborn for my transgression,
    the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?”

8 

He has told you, O mortal, what is good;
    and what does the Lord require of you
but to do justice, and to love kindness,
    and to walk humbly with your God?

            * * * * 

It is a good day for Zeljko. Today the Quad Cinemas in Manhattan signed the Second Meeting for a weeklong run in May and the New York Times has agreed to come and review the film. What he needs to be Oscar eligible. The next week he will have an opening in Los Angeles. This is God News.

             * * * * 

Strange to be in 80’ or more weather here when I knwo its still cold and wet back in New York. Wish I could sit across our dining room table and have a Budweiser with Zeljko.

Remaining on the correct time

3/12

                                                  "Long Road Through Balkan History"

Last night at West- Park, the church  hosted Zeljko’s film The Long Road Through Balkan History. Two writers, Miljenko Jergovic from Croatia and Marko Vidojkovic from Serbia, share the driving in a Yugo across the former Yugoslavia with very different persepctives on their shared history. Once again, West-Park became a gathering place for the Serbian diaspora in New York as they joined church people and neighbors for the screening. In Zeljko’s understated style, the Balkan wars of the 1990’s become paradigms of nationalism and war’s absurdity anywhere. 

I remember in Pittsburgh. A Cadillac dealer. Special deal. Buy a Cadillac, get a Yugo for free....

As I prepare to leave Phoenix, I see a sign on the hotel desk:

Please be advised that tomorrow  at 2 AM the rest of the country will be changed to Daylight  Savings Time. The clocks in Arizona will remain on the correct time. 

People first

3/10

Leaving Phoenix,  I have one last thought about our PHEWA time together.

We learned it from our colleagues in the Disabilities Concerns network. People first. It was language pedagogy at first: don’t say disabled people, deaf people, the poor, the homeless...People are nouns, not adjectives and any adjective does not define a person’s identity. We have had to stop and think until we have begun to understand. A group can refer to itself in this way as a form of community identification, as in the deaf community, but it is not to the rest of us to define people by any condition which is only one aspect of who they are. People first. Liberals have a longways to go here. People first.

But it’s more than that. It’s a commitment of practice. Those of us who have been around awhile have all experienced in one movement or campaign or organization or another the idea that people can be sacrificed for the cause. Point is, it is always soemone else who gets sacrificed. And who gets to decide? On what basis? The discourse is that personal feelings are to be set aside but in all honesty, it is usually personal feelings disguised as ideology that lead to banishments and exclusions. (Our Reformed perspective on how things work makes that pretty clear. It’s the way things are...) Too easy. Too susceptible to envy, jealousy, personal stuff that pretends to be objective. 

Organizing teaches us that it’s all about relationships. Yes, we can call each other to accountability, We are compelled to do that. But the nature of the society we seek to create is already revealed in the nature of how we conduct our struggle. Any vanguard, any leadership, that seeks to act for the masses and not with the masses has already acted in a condescending, paternalistic way that destroys community. And liberals can  be the worst offenders.  People first.

It was Che who said At the risk of sounding ridiculous, the primary motivation of any revolutionary must be love. 

Or if you prefer, Jesus who said that  you can't say you love God and hate your brother or sister. 

We have decided to claim this as one of the defining principles of our PHEWA culture. People first. The rest follows. 

Reflections on organizing and what I wrote for the celebration of the workers victory over Saigon Grill

3/9

Today in Phoenix, the weather feels Biblical...cold swirling winds and torrential rain turning into pelting hail...

Meanwhile, back in New York City, there is snow. And gathered in front of the Saigon Grill, the Sweatshop Free people and National Movement Against Sweat Shop people and Justice Will Be Served have gathered to celebrate a victory. The court ruled in favor of the workers over against Saigon Grill. One million dollars in back wages and penalties. Over two years of picketing, organizing campaign and coalition building have resulted in a victory. Notice has been served that workers, documented or not, must be treated justly. All we ever demanded was that the Fair Labor Law be obeyed. 

I wish I were there. I remember passing the pickets on a daily basis, greeting them, encouraging them. In every kind of weather. Until that cold Christmas Eve when  I walked by with my son Micah, the workers in Santa Claus hats. Micah stopped and spoke with them and asked me, so why don’t you join them? and a new relationship began.

Speaking at rallies in every season. Reaching out to clergy colleagues. Drawing in the Religion Labor Coalition and Rabbi Michael. Bringing in Teddy and #OWS. Hosting the neighborhood canvassing efforts from West-Park. Meeting with foundations. Celebrating smaller victories. And now, finally, this part of the struggle has come to fruition. 

So I send my friends a statement. To be read at the rally.Here is my message:

Brothers and Sisters....

I regret that I cannot be with you in person today as we celebrate the long and

hard fought victory over Saigon Grill. Know that I am here with you in

spirit. The celebration today is well deserved.  Through long years,

you have fought this battle in the streets, on the picket line and in the

courthouse. You have walked this line through every season of the year

and in every kind of weather. You have rallied in  sunshine and in

cold pouring rain. You have created a community of solidarity and

support that includes workers documented and those without papers, union

workers, the faith community, neighbors, politicians and small

business owners. You have been fearless and tireless and been a beacon

to all vulnerable workers in our community that standing up for one's

rights defeats fear and that the workers united will never be

defeated. You have brought us a step closer to making real the vision

of ONE sweatshop free neighborhood in one community that can be a

model for ALL the neighborhoods of this city. Today we can not only say that justice

WILL be served but that justice HAS been served. This victory is a

signal that we will not rest until all workers have won the  fair

wages they deserve and will be treated with the the dignity that is the

God given right of all people. Let us celebrate this victory today and

then continue the struggle....until the victory that will surely

come...

With thanks, commitment and solidarity

The Rev. Dr. Bob Brashear

West-Park Presbyterian Church

Even from Phoenix, the victory feels good. 

I do an afternoon workshop with my colleague John on Community Organizing. And our PHEWA grassroots model. The Sweatshop Free story and the Occupy Sandy story are great examples to share. 

Issue organizing says everyone in favor of this issue follow me.

Movements have one cause, a law, a war to end, one goal to achieve. No long lasting life. 

Ideology says we’ve got the right analysis, if everyone agreed, things would be OK. 

Charity, programs do for.

Liberal advocacy speaks for. 

The golden rule of community organizing is never do for anyone what they can do for themselves.  We are not to be voices for the voiceless. (Though we may be ears for the earless..) We work to help others to find their own voice and speak for themselves, becoming in Freire’s terms, the subjects of their own history. Strong organizations, built on solid public relationships, are built to last, to shift and change as circumstances change through constant listening. In PHEWA, our advocacy grows out of the daily doing of ministry. And that makes all the difference.

It’s always frustrating to me that I know this so well, teach it so well, and have had such a difficult time doing it in my own church. Part of that is the tension between roles of leader and organizer. You can’t be both at the same time. Like being a Presbyterian minister where your job with your Session (IE, board) is that of Moderator. On the one hand, you are expected to lead. On the other, if you go too far ahead, you are reminded that it is the Session who is really in charge. I am a Teaching Elder. They are the Ruling Elders.

In short, as my mentor, Philip once taught me, leaders are people who have followers. Organizers find leaders and build strong organizations. It’s that simple. 

One last chance. Have to try one more time. 

The storm continues. The power has gone off. To get to the restroom, you must pass through the courtyard. As people go out and return, it's now Shakespearean.  Returning,  the storm raging outside, it's like the climactic scene of King Lear.