Living in Coronavirusworld 2: Sometimes loving your neighbor is staying away

3/24

virtual St. Patrick's

Yesterday I did my Monday weekly planning at home for the first  time. I usually like to go to my favorite coffee shop, get an almond croissant and latte and plan out the week.  Last Monday, I thought I had one last day before the ordered Tuesday lockdown. But I found the shop had  already converted to takeout only, hoping to make it that way. (Now even takeout is closed.) I got my coffee and croissant and headed to A Philip Randolph Square to sit. The regulars there were in heavy conversation about “martial law,” which they figure is next. That’s how it is in Harlem.

****

Tuesday I went to my physical therapy, still open, on 54th Street.  Walking through the Turnstyle Underground Marketplace at Columbus Circle, most restaurants and food places  were still open. Takeout only, of course. Folks scattered at tables in the concourse, socially distant for the most part. 

New York City Presbytery met by ZOOM and voted to advise all Presbyterian congregations to cease all in person activity “until further notice.” The strongest opposition came from racial/ethnic congregations concerned about remaining “faithful to Christ” regardless of the danger. It took some explanation to make clear it wasn’t about ourselves accepting risk, but that our accepting risk endangers others. That sometimes loving your neighbor means staying away. As a retired pastor with a small pension and social security, I depend on guest preaching, consulting and weddings to augment my income. I began to understand that I would be losing around $1000 month in addition to my lost music gig income. It hurts. Of course, many friends have. Lost all their income. Those projected $1000 or so government checks will be a limited value.

The St.Pat hat collection

At 7pm we gather by ZOOM. The gang that accompanied theologian/activist Peter Heltzel on his annual St. Patrick’s night pub crawl. And traditional 7 PM toast. This year it would be virtual. Wearing green and with my own pint, we toasted, Peter’s son Tristan on his lap. Slainte. 

.....and no place to go....

****

At last night's ...Songwriters' Exchange, one of our youngest members sang about her lost prom and graduation .She was embarassed to put it in the song. Seemed so trivial. "No. Sing about your life," we told her. "We get to the universal through the individual. And this is your life, and your life is not trivial..." All those once in a lifetime experiences gone. 

                                             ****

Today the Center at West Park’s Program Committee met by ZOOM.  It was supposed to be about planning the next season’s residencies but had to focus on cancelled spring programming first. Productions cut off in mid-run. Possible make up in a summer Phoenix Festival? Good idea, but what can we know?

I talk with a chaplain who directs a spiritual  care program for persons with intellectual and developmental disabilities. One of only half a dozen or so programs like it in the country. As a day program, all the clients are now homebound. She has  to arrange over 180 home visits by a minimal staff.  The strain is already showing. And how long can their visits continue?

I hear noice outside. Three of my neighbors have been talking on the stoop. The police have stopped to tell then to break it up. I mean they do this under normal circumstances. It's Harlem. A younger man is quite riled. An older man, the young man told the police was "one of our elders," tries to calm him down. "Let it go,"he says, "they just doin' their job..."

The president has said he’d like to “open up for business again” by Easter. “Ready and raring to go!”  he says.  “The cure can’t be worse than the problem,” he says. What world does he live in? Of all the ignorant things he has said, for some reason this enrages me more than usual. We are so unprepared as it is.Visions of stacked bodies. And the Lieutenant Governor of Texas says that if grandparents have to put their lives at risk, even die to save the economy, he’s “all in.”  This grandparent is not. The fact that we have elected officials who think like this both offends and frightens me. Little hope that w ehe the wisdom -or will- to do what’s necessary.

Today was the 40th anniversary of Oscar Romero’s martyrdom.  Even in the midst of coronavirusworld, Oscar Romero, presente.

Living in coronavirusworld 1: One week in

3/23

Closed tonight

One week ago was the last day before it all shut down. Our Wednesday morning reflection group’s ethical conversation about whether we shook meet in person or not, brought to an abrupt close.  Conversations about whether to continue Friday night open mic or not, likewise over. The last dominoes had fallen. There would be no St.Patrick’s Day pub crawl this year. I decided to go to my favorite pub, St. James Gate, to hopefully find my friends, especially RL in his appointed “Bullshit Corner,” and have one last shot. But when I got to the Gate, it was already closed. Maybe I could find RL at his alternate spot a few blocks down the street.  Looking in the window at Frankie Mac’s (formerly MacAleers of NYPD Blue fame), I saw Dion. And Rodne. And Dierdre. So I went in.  One last Jameson’s on the rocks. Tomorrow would also be Rodne’s birthday. No celebration. Mandola Joe sees us and comes in, keeping a safe distance. RL already home. It would be awhile before I see him again. We enjoy our drinks with an underlying sense of sadness….that was last Monday. 

Dion, me and Rodne

On this day, I enter into another day in Coronavirusworld.  At 12:30 p.m., our International Sanctuary Declaration working group, gathering from around the world, need at our regular place, ZOOM.  We are together from New York City, Arizona, El Paso/Juarez, Canada, Germany, the Netherlands…all dedicated to just migration. The updates from around the world are chilling:

* In New York City, many food pantries serving the homeless people  are shuttered. There are serous worries about conditions in the shelters. And where the homeless population will fall in the anticipated triage system of health care. 

* Both the US-Mexico AND US-Canada borders are closed. Meaning getting vulnerable people into Canada is no longer possible. And the streets of Juarez fill up with people unable to cross. NO asylum claims are being heard. Anyone found in the US will be  immediately deported.

* Even so, people continue to find their way into the most deadly parts of the Sonora desert.  Medical volunteers even more constrained than ever. 

* In Amsterdam, legal prostitution is shut down. Even in the compassionate environment of Amsterdam, vast numbers of sex workers are trafficked women. Or young men. The coronavirus leads to a global crisis for sex workers who will turn to more risky and dangerous ways to support themselves.

* Lost in the chaotic US response is any thought  as to how to deal with “social distancing” and other simple health safety issues let alone testing

* Starting in Elizabeth, New Jersey, three ICE detention centers are in the midst of hunger strikes for safety, even rudimentary sanitation  and humane treatment

* Growing concerns over the implications of Coronavirus in the reality of US mass incarceration

Needless to say, it was a sober meeting.

After several warm days, where I developed a routine of a 30 minute walk and 15 minute meditation in the park, it’s cold and raining. Nevertheless, the walk keeps me sane. So out I go. Almost home, I slip on wet pavement twisting my knee.

It’s my son Nate’s birthday, I can’t be there. His brother Dan has made him pulled pork barbeque. I wish I were there.

The Jack Hardy Songwriter’s Exchange meets, what else, via ZOOM.  This exchange meets every Monday, keeping the tradition started by Jack Hardy alive. 

(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jack_Hardy_(singer-songwriter)       

About two dozen of us have gathered tonight. Most of us are struggling through our music to make sense of what’s going on around us, some cynical, some angry, some didactic and provocative, others indirect and suggestive. I’m surprised to have found a sense of hope, inspired by a poem currently circulating on the internet. 

Here are my lyrics:

Listen

They were the first to live the truth of this pandemic

So much unknown, so much to fear

As weeks went by, they begin to listen

And are amazed at what at last they see and hear

For the air was clear

And the sky turned blue 

And the people of Wuhan heard the birds sing again.

In the streets of Assisi, voices fill the square

From open windows their songs fill the air

To tell the lonely people, sheltered in their homes

You neighbors are with you, you re not alone

          For the air was clear

And the sky turned blue 

And the people of Assisi heard their neighbors  sing again.

If we take the time to listen, take the time to learn

Turn away from all that keeps  us from what  we truly need

Heed the warning, heed the sign

That points to a new morning, and points to a new time

For the air was clear

And the sky turned blue 

And the people of Wuhan heard the birds sing again.

We’ve been given a moment to stop and catch our breath

A moment to decide between what is life and what is death

If we are truly open to a time of rebirth

We might learn to heal ourselves, we might learn to heal the earth

For the air will be clear

And the sky will turn blue 

And the people of the earth will hear the birds sing again.

As always, my friends are quick with their critiques: get your verb tenses straight, one verse too many, lose the third; try it as a waltz…

And as always they are pretty much right….

It’s good to be together. I find these ZOOM get togethers and the effort to hold onto normal takes energy. I feel affirmed, but tired after everyone. It’s like we’re hanging in there but with a feeling of dread right under the surface. It’s been one week…..

4th Sunday in Lent: Coronavirusworld

3/22

The word on the street.....

Lots of conflicted feelings about going to Ecclesia in Marcus Garvey Park today. Of course services at Good Shepherd-Faith-and all Presbyterian Churches- are cancelled today. But my brother Clyde  will be in the Park to serve the homeless people who gather there and I want to be with him. 

I’ve come to understand however, that it’s not simply about ourselves when we take a risk. It’s others we put at risk as well.   That raises the stakes ethically. And I’m just at the end of a self-quarantine due to a close friend of mine having come down with the virus. But after much refection, based on the fact that we will be outside, based on Clyde’s understanding of what’s at stake and the fact that many food programs for homeless people have shut down and we are providing a meal, I decide to go. 

It’s colder than it’s been most of the week. Back to the high 30’s. The streets are very quiet.  Even my favorite coffee shop that intended to stay open for carryout has given up. I take the slow walk to the drumming circle at Marcus Garvey.

I find Clyde in a theological conversation about the nature of God with a most emphatic man from Jamaica. As he enters into a discourse on the “illegal Maccabees Bible,” it’s time to begin our service. 

(I later learn that the Maccabees Bible, including the four books of Maccabees and Psalm 151, was banned in British colonial empire days and possession of it considered seditious and punishable by imprisonment!)

There are about half a dozen folks as we begin. Including one who only speaks Spanish. That number will grow as we continue. Our Jamaican friend coughs and Clyde immediately gives a passionate discourse about how to cough and no spitting.  He also talks about fear. How our strange days create fear and we continue to come to the park to allay those fears. We try to get everyone at least six feet apart. Clyde explains how we will have eucharist in only one species today. Each host will be placed on an individual napkin. 

We begin our service. Read the gospel, John 9: 1-41, the story of the man born blind and Jesus healing him with mud. My choice, however, will be to preach on the 23rd Psalm, which I read in Spanish before I begin…..

My friends…these are strange days we are living in. I have never experienced anything like this in my lifetime.  It’s the kind of feeling like in science fiction or horror movies. And it’s the whole world….last night at 9PM Pope Francis called for the  whole world to pray at the same time.  They’re asking us to stop every night at 8PM to say a word for health care and wellness workers. In Spain, France, Italy and Israel they go to windows to applaud workers on the way  to the hospital. 

(Clyde interjects…and they sing!)

So how bad is it now in New York?  New York State has 5298 cases….40% of the nation’s total. At the beginning of the week we had 700. That’s a nearly 700% increase.in one week!  So it’s real. Does anyone here know someone who has the virus? I do. 

The streets have an eerie quiet to them. All the closed shops and stores. We’ve been through hard times before. But it was different. We could come together. Sing songs together. Dance. Play ball games. Hold each other. That’s how we got through.  So what do we do this time?  It’s a great time for ZOOM. They have increased their value 26% in the last month while the market has plunged by 32%. Friday night I was in a nationwide concert on ZOOM. That’s how we do. But not if you’re my mom in her assisted living facility. Not if you’re someone without a phone. You are isolated and alone. 

 So how do we reflect on the moment theologically?  The lectionary this week is filled with rich passages. Some of my favorites…like 1 Samuel 16: 1-13 where Samuel goes to Jesse and goes through all his sons before finally landing on David, the youngest and least likely to be the anointed. Or John 9: 1-41 where Jesus heals a man born blind with a little spit and mud. Another favorite. (Used as an ascription for Martin Scorsese’s “Raging Bull”..) Both of those have the stuff for many sermons.

But today I have to go with Psalm 23. That’s it, our “go to” Psalm. The one we go to for comfort. There’s a lot of reasons for that. It’s used at probably every funeral we’ve ever been to in our lives. It’s part of the “walk around Bible” most of us have inside of ourselves. Back in the day, the old folks used to have all kinds of Bible verses memorized. They could walk around with them. Not so much anymore. For one thing, we all used to use the King James. Now there are so many versions, there’s no real common shared Bible. And two, well, we just don’t. But we’ve still got Psalm 23.

My denomination uses the New Revised Standard Version. Just not the same.  The darkest valley just doesn’t get you like the valley of the shadow of death….and that’s kind of what it feels like right now. My kids have been fairly frequently reminding me that I’m in the target group. One of my friends is still in the middle  of the fever stage. We worry about my mom. There is a shadow hanging over us. And it’s not just illness. I have friends who have lost all income as bars and restaurants shut down. And multiply that across the country across the world…it’s a BIG shadow. 

But the psalm is about hope. There is the image of bounty. My cup runneth over. (So much better than ‘overflows.”) We always have the choice to view our life as scarcity or abundance. Need or capacity.  When I started community organizing, we started with "Needs assessments. ”  And in most of the communities I worked in the needs were so great that at that point, people were ready to give up. On the other hand, if we started with capacity, it’s a very different story. We always discover we’ve got resources we didn’t even realize we had. 

Theologian Walter Breuggeman  said that doxology is beginning of resistance. Giving thanks is what it takes to start your way back. When I’d been fired and lost my job, I felt so alone. But then a friend asked what I had to be thankful for. It took me aback. But also helped me get on my feet again. I had so much to be thankful for. Nahum Ward-Lev says at the end of every day, we should make a list of what happened during the day for which we have gratitude. It’s not a bad exercise. 

And I will dwell in the house of the lord my whole life long? Or forever? I like  forever. 

Even in the shadows, God is with us. And if we look deeper, listen deeper, what do we see? In his beautiful poem Lockdown, Irish Father Richard Hendrick reminds us that in Wuhan Province, the air is clear again, the sky blue. And people hear the birds sing again. In Assissi, people’s voices fill the square and touch the lives of those who live alone.  We’ve got a chance to stop. To take a breath. And maybe figure out how to heal ourselves. And heal the earth. 

…we shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever…

Amen

We have our prayers of  the people. Share the peace from afar. Then one by one, come forward for eucharist. It seems to work relatively smoothly with some hiccups. Someone coughs on a laminated song sheet and we have to get rid of it immediately. 

As we are finishing eucharist, a van stops by. A Park ranger gets out and stops to investigate. “What’s going on here?” She asks.

“We’re having church” says Clyde, “and then lunch.”

“Well keep a safe distance,” the ranger says, “Six feet apart” and then takes off. It’s a reminder of what is so hard to enforce. Even after the ranger’s visit, we still have to remind our congregation over and over.

Finally, Clyde says, ”If we can’t keep six feet away, we just can’t do this anymore…”

 Put the lunch bags on the altar. People come up one at a time. There are so many, we’ve barely enough food. The people take their bags and move on.

Clyde shakes his head. It’s been a struggle. ‘I don’t know” he says. “Maybe we’ll just have morning prayer, forego the eucharist. I don’t like that idea, but…” and he shares the potential vulnerability of his home situation and sense of responsibility. 

“We’ll just have to see…”

No one knows what happens next.

I start my walk home through the empty streets.

No one knows.

Psalm 23

1   The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not want.2        He makes me lie down in green pastures;
     he leads me beside still waters;3        he restores my soul.
     He leads me in right paths
          for his name’s sake.

4   Even though I walk through the darkest valley,
          I fear no evil;
     for you are with me;
          your rod and your staff —
          they comfort me.

5   You prepare a table before me
          in the presence of my enemies;
     you anoint my head with oil;
          my cup overflows.6   Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
          all the days of my life,
     and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD
          my whole life long.

Psalm 23 King James Version (KJV)

23 The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

2 He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.

3 He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.

4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

5 Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.

6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

The New Pope: Strange and beautiful...

3/20

In days like these, we need all we can get from the world of arts and culture. This blog will share reflections on works in various genres that explore ethics and esthetics, beauty and justice…

The recently concluded HBO series The New Pope was a strange and beautiful experience. This series was an extension of the previous The Young Pope starring Jude Law as Lenny Belardo, the first American pope serving as Pius XIII. And as his confidante and advisor, even mentor,  Diane Keaton as Sister Mary. Interesting from the start as it explored the implications of a young and dynamic arch conservative pope, the last several episodes were powerful in their exploration of Lenny’s spiritual growth and sense of mission. The final episode, in his final address, contains some of the most theologically intelligent discourse ever on television. The season ended with Lenny suffering’s a stroke and possibly dying.  While much about the series would  undoubtedly be found offensive by institutionalists and traditionalists,  especially with internal Vatican politics and sexual scandals, the exploration of the nature of God was truly unique. Although the show had a decidedly magical realist element to it, it stayed enough within the realm of reality to keep its viewers connected and safe from alienation.

It was thus  with great anticipation I awaited the series’ new embodiment, The New Pope. The new series begins with Pope Pius XIII in a coma and the Vatican needing to move on. After one false start, Sir John Brannox from England, played by John Malkovich, is elected pope, as John Paul III.  Deeply troubled (and haunted by addiction), Malkovich is perfect in the role. Among other plot elements are a seeming terrorist threat from the Islamic Caliphate (which feels suspiciously and dangerously cliche leading to suspicions as to what is up with that?), a growing crowd of Pius XIII fanatics hanging on his every (broadcast) breath, a Ray Donovan typeVatican fixer played by Mark Ivanir and the longtime Secretary of State Cardinal with Silvio Orlando’s Cardinal Voiello almost stealing the show.

I struggled with this season however. While still beautiful -even breathtakingly so - the strangeness grew stranger with Director Paolo Sorrentino steering from magical realism deeper and deeper into David Lynchian territory, the connection with reality more tenuous at every plot turn.  In addition to beauty, words like  blasphemous, provocative, transgressive began to also seem apt. A sense of alienation began to set in. Until Lenny rises from his coma and renters the plot.  The last three episodes are among the best television can be. Voiello’s eulogy for his dead friend, one with multiple physical and mental challenges, is one of the most moving and profound exegeses of the incarnation I have ever heard.  The two popes arias on love and our responsibility to each other and the ultimate unresolved mystery of God are profound, challenging and heartbreaking. The resolution of the terrorist angle is surprising, unexpected and absolutely right. In the end, the series is about the dangers of fanaticism - of any kind, even Catholic - and the arguably miraculous power of love. 

As a form of epilogue, Sorrentino serves us an unexpected, out of left field homage to "The Shining" as a playful end to our journey. Truly cinematic television.

At the end of the day, as challenging, or even troubling, as some of the plot elements and devices of these “…Popes” are, God is ever present. Sorrentino has created a thought provoking, spirit provoking exploration of the nature of holiness, the nature of God. Strange and beautiful. Worth it.

Living in cornavirusworld

3/15

Living in Coronavirusworld

...another cost....

It was a beautiful warm spring-like day. A perfect day for a long slow walk. A sit in the park.  A bit of meditation. Felt perfectly normal. But with the underlying awareness that nothing is normal right now. A few weeks ago, I felt as if I was somewhere between normal life and the zombie apocalypse. In the last few days we’ve tilted in the direction of apocalypse. I keep imagining the early days of “Walking Dead” must have been something like this. Day by day my planned activities disappeared. This is truly unprecedented...never in my life have I experienced a day without sports. With all the shows also dark, I thought about some exhibits I’ve been wanting to visit but the museums are dark too. I simply don’t remember anything like this.

Yes. There was 9-11. But we gathered in churches. We got together and volunteered at Ground Zero, the ash-filled air not withstanding. We took our kids to the park and kept the soccer leagues going. Baseball resumed. Every instinct in times of crisis is to come together. Because we need one another. But we are cautioned not to. I am personally always inclined to go out in the world, regardless of what’s going on. But now a reasonable argument can be made that rules or no rules, the socially, even morally responsible thing to do is to stay in.   My boys worry about me because as an older man who has experienced cardio and pulmonary issues, I am at risk. But worse, I could endanger others.   All of us, potential Rudy Goberts. (The NBA player who tested positive after a cavalier attitude toward the disease and infected others.)

My son in Berlin tells me that everything in Berlin….schools. theaters, arenas, bars and restaurants….is closed for five weeks. Should  we do that here? The singers leaning from quarantined windows in Italy to sing with each other reminding me of Chile under martial law and curfew last fall. I have no confidence in my own government as I watch endless lines of  passengers returning from overseas crowed together waiting to be interviewed at O’Hare Airport, the very picture of risk. I have felt, and still feel, we’ve been making it all up as we go along. 

Do I go to my Sunday open mic tonight? The church held its last Friday night. And those who came, the regular community,  felt supported and sustained. But was this right?

The churches are closed. Worse, signs announce the food pantries are closed. As always, the poorest and most vulnerable will be the worst hit. I shudder thinking about the huddled masses in the refugee camps I have seen at our borders. Every border. No way to sanitize. 

I think of musician friends who supplement their income by working at Yankee Stadium.  Already this first soccer game was cancelled. Baseball not going to happen, at least for the foreseeable future. No way to replace lost income. I think of the unfathomable global economic impact of what is happening.

Another friend continues to celebrate Eucharist for the homeless in the parks. I will join him next week. So many choices to make every day.

People panic. I see people with arms loads of toilet paper at CVS and I want to scream, “What are you doing?” “What do you think is going to happen?”  Shelves empty in the stores. We create our own panic by living it out.  Another friend points out the outer boroughs seem to have more on the shelves. Manhattan has more wealth than the other boroughs. It takes available money to hoard.

Rock radio host Frankie Dee (the Real Radio Show- Fox News Radio) asked me last night what we should do. I said, “Don’t panic. Keep your head about you. Wash your hands. Drink water. Listen. Think. Don’t hoard toilet paper..leave some for the rest of us. Make a list of projects you can do. Stay in touch (metaphorically!) with each other. This too will pass.” He liked my answer.

Someone suggested we should treat this like a sabbath. A time to stop. To rest. To reflect. To break the ordinary patterns. To breathe. (And be thankful we can.) It is, after all, Lent. 

My son reminds me of an amazing reality…a small, minuscule, invisible bug can bring the whole world to a screeching halt. To its knees. Like the alien invaders of War of theWorlds…brought down by “bugs”….No mighty armies or weapons or hoarded wealth or toilet paper can stop the virus. Our actions can slow it, starve it. Or feed it. Not by might. Not by power..

This too shall pass. How do we live in the meantime?

First Sunday in Lent: Temptation

3/1

at Beverley

The weather has turned cold again. And there's no Q train running this weekend so I have to take longer walk i the cold to get to Beverley. I sit with Geraldine before the service. And Yevgeny (Eugene) makes me a cup of coffee. Irina is preparing the table for communion. We will begin soon. It's the first Sunday of Lent. 

After reading Matthew 4: 1-11, it's time for my reflection:

Soo…after a warm middle of the week, it turned cold on us again. But here’s the deal…by this time tomorrow , I expect to be in Florida in a ballpark waiting to see my hometown baseball team play a game, It’s what they call “spring training”…that wonderful six weeks in Arizona and Florida where our major league league teams go to prepare for the upcoming season. It’s an ages old tradition.

And it seems to me  a fitting  metaphor for us and what we’re up to during Lent, and of our "spring training"  as we get ready for Easter. But let's start with a look at Jesus and his “temptation in the desert.”  I want us to  notice some things….first, notice it's the spirit that leads Jesus into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. It’s almost like they’re on the same team….the devil’s job is to make sure Jesus is ready for what happens next...like you, know, Lou Gossett as DI Foley in an Officer and a Gentleman?  Like Satan’s going to put Jesus through the paces then tell the Spirit he’s good to go.

SO what temptations does Jesus face?

Let’s look at them one at a time.  First, “turning stones to bread”….Jesus had fasted for 40 days and nights, He was famished. And even more, aware that there is hunger everywhere. BUT, still he replies that we do not live by bread alone…               

Second, it's the David Blaine way to fame, so to speak. Throw yourself off the edge of the temple  or St.John the Divine and you’ll caught….a real crowd pleaser. It’s Jesus’ call to gather the people. This would do it! It's Jesus’ response that we are not to test God. That is, if God really loves him, then he will be saved. Jesus rejects that idea. ( I think that in our own way, we test God ourselves…always daring God to save us...)

Finally, offered all the kingdoms of the world if he will worship Satan. (Note…Satan is saying he is in charge of the world…I could believe that!)  Jesus wants to establish his kingdom. Here he can get that! He could still set upon his own governance by his own rules. But he responds …we must   ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him             

And so the devil leaves him, Jesus has passed the test. Satan will-pass along the word that Jesus is “good to go”…..and immediately, the angels come to  help him recover.

So here’s what I want you to see….everything the devil tempted Jesus with was a basically a  good thing.  No proverbial wine, women and song. No or sex, drugs and rock n roll.  More like sustenance, influence,  and power. All things he needs. This has two implications for me…Satan is clever enough to match our temptations is uniquely personalized way. Just like he knew Jesus’ most important desires, he  will know ours. It’s also kind of like knowing we can’t take a short cut. Every time in my life’s work I have tried to take the short cutout has never worked. The temptations for us are less like Harvey Weinstein and more like the Houston Astros. 

And also that it's really hard to know the difference between a temptation and a call. They can be soooooo close.  You know that old spooky thing around 666? DO you know what it really means? It’ simply this….that 7 is the traditional perfect number….666 is about as close to 7 as you can get, the point being the line between good and evil can be a really thin one. We have to be careful.  I’ve sometimes heard these ministers caught in some sexual misconduct issue reported to have told their victim that their relationship was God’s special gift..                      

On the one hand that’s manipulation, pure and simple. But on the other,I can almost believe that on some level, they truly believed that. Leonard Cohen once sang about you who have never been tempted by a demon or the Lord…Here’s an overly simple idea…if it’s something you wouldn’t want people to know about it’s a pretty good sign it’s not the Lord you’re dealing with.

Our resources are scripture (read through the eyes of Jesus), the Holy Spirt and each other. Part of why the church is here is to help us in our discernment. As we consider our own temptations, let us use Lent as a time of reflection and discernment. May Lent be our spring training so that we can be ready for opening day , ie Easter. O maybe re-opening day, A chance for beginning again, A chance for new life. 

I appreciate how Evgeny crosses himself Orthodox style for communion. I am pleased that there are potential new members taking a class with Geraldine. Always signs of life...Lent has begun...after coffee it's back into the cold to head to Manhattan. 

Gospel Matthew 4:1-11

1Then Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil.2He fasted forty days and forty nights, and afterwards he was famished.3The tempter came and said to him, “If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread.”4But he answered, “It is written,
     ‘One does not live by bread alone,
          but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.’”

5Then the devil took him to the holy city and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, 6saying to him, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down; for it is written,
     ‘He will command his angels concerning you,’
          and ‘On their hands they will bear you up,
     so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.’”7Jesus said to him, “Again it is written, ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’”

8Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor; 9and he said to him, “All these I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me.” 10Jesus said to him, “Away with you, Satan! for it is written, ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him.’” 11Then the devil left him, and suddenly angels came and waited on him