"I'm too old to sleep on wet grass."

I hadn't seen one of the regular guests at the breakfast program for a few weeks. Whenever one of the regulars doesn't show up, I have three thoughts:  they've found housing, they've been hospitalized (or worse), or they've just moved on. In the case of one particular guest, it turns out that she was hospitalized due to some problems with her heart.

This guest reminds me of my mother. She's about the same age as my mother was when she (my mother) died. She's also about the same height as my mother was. I had thought that she was housed and used the breakfast program to supplement her diet. Turns out, I was mistaken. She is in fact, homeless. She had been admitted to a local hospital and upon her release, she was put up in a hotel in order to ensure she had recovered. That lasted two weeks. When her hotel stay ended, she had no where to go. To top is off, the weather in the Bay Area lately has been raining and windy with sunshine interspersed here and there. 

She made her way to the men's and women's shelter located at the former Oakland Army Base. She didn't have a voucher to stay there, but the shelter staff took pity on her, and found her a cot. It was supposed to be for just one night, but because it was two days before Christmas, the shelter staff let her stay. So far, she's been there for four nights, without a voucher, due to the kindness of shelter staff.

When I saw her this morning, I told her that I had missed seeing her and asked her how she was. She told me her story and ended it by saying "I'm too old to sleep on wet grass."

When, in this country, did it become acceptable for an elderly woman to have to face the prospects of sleeping on wet grass?

I don't know her life story. I don't know how she came to be in this situation, this late in her life. What I do know is that she deserves better than to have to worry about sleeping on wet grass.

Rethinking Judas

Sherry and I often get into a discussion about Judas, especially during Lent. Judas gets the bad rap. He's the bad seed. We ask the question amongst ourselves - "If not Judas, who?"

During the Maundy Thursday service, the sermon included this little tidbit that I'd never heard or considered before. In John's gospel, Jesus washes the feet of his disciples. All of them. Even Judas'. Read John 13:1-30 and see for yourself.

Then yesterday, during the Good Friday contemplative service, this poem by Ruth Etchells was read:

In Hell there grew a Judas Tree


Where Judas hanged and died


Because he could not bear to see


His master crucified.

Our Lord descended into Hell


And found his Judas there


For ever hanging on the tree


Grown from his own despair.

So Jesus cut his Judas down


And took him in his arms


“It was for this I came” he said


“And not to do you harm."

My Father gave me twelve good men


And all of them I kept


Though one betrayed and one denied


Some fled and others slept –

In three days’ time I must return


To make the others glad


But first I had to come to Hell


And share the death you had

My tree will grow in place of yours


Its roots lie here as well


There is no final victory


Without this soul from Hell”

So when we all condemned him


As of every traitor worst


Remember that of all his men


Our Lord forgave him first.

I was crying by the time the lector finished reading the poem. God, hung in shame and humiliation on a tree like a common criminal, removes Judas from his own tree in an act of supreme love.

Jesus, knowing that Judas will betray him, washes his feet anyway. The idea that Jesus releases Judas in hell and forgives him, even in death, is almost too much to comprehend.

Next year, when Sherry and I have our conversation about Judas, we won't ask "if not Judas, who?" Instead, we'll contemplate the incomprehensible love of a Savior who washes the feet of his soon-to-be betrayer and then rescues him from the grave of his own making. 

It sounds like we may have more in common with Judas than we're comfortable with.

Who is Guilty?

A few days ago, a pastor whom I respect, shared on Facebook an op-ed piece about the Sgt. Bales tragedy from David Brooks entitled "When the Good Do Bad". The op-ed was published in the NY Times.

He prefaced his sharing of the article with this: "The doctrine of depravity and original sin, so often despised and marginalized these days, surfaces again as we ask why "good people do bad things"".

My response (below) was not an actual response the Brooks article, but more to the concept of depravity as a theological construct to explain why the world is (in the minds of some) spinning out of control. 

Not to give Sgt. Bales an excuse for what he might have done (he hasn't been found guilty yet), I can't help but think of the depravity he probably witnessed in the execution of his "duties", which were, of course, to neutralize the "enemy" by any means necessary. One of the purposes of basic training is to re-orient the mindset of the recruit, so that they will be able to pull the trigger if, and, when necessary. We take young men and women and teach them how to kill. Of course, because it's done in wartime, it's an acceptable form of killing.

 Of course, the counter argument is that of the hundreds of thousands of men and women in uniform, only a handful commit such heinous crimes. That's true. However, the number of PTSD cases the VA is monitoring (over 200,000 according to a recent NPR story) should give all of us pause to think and consider. While these men and women may not commit heinous crimes, their mental health has been adversely affected by what they experienced. Depravity or not, they have come home radically changed.

 I think Mr. Brooks puts too much of the blame on Sgt. Bales and not enough on the system that trained him and deployed him multiple times. Is depravity just the burden of the individual, or is the system depraved as well?

Depravity, as defined by Mirriam-Webster is "marked by corruption or evil, especially perverted." I am not a Calvinist. I can't accept the idea that all humanity (created in the image of God) is marked by corruption or evil. Yes, we all struggle with sin and need the grace of Christ in our lives to redeem us. But I can't accept either Calvin's or Jonathan Edward's notion of a God who can hardly wait to condemn us. When I read the Gospels, I read about a God who has unlimited and unimaginable love for us. The parable of the Prodigal Son paints a picture of a loving father who, when he sees his wayward son off in the distance, runs to him in an incredible show of love and forgiveness.

I don't know what happened to Sgt. Bales on that fateful night. I do know that many lives are forever changed because of the acts he has been accused of committing. I also know that in the eyes of God, Sgt. Bales is as loved as I am. In the Episcopal church, we often pray for forgiveness for the sins we have committed as well as for the sins committed on our behalf.

If found guilty, Sgt. Bales will face punishment, as well he should. However, as a Christian, do I share some of his guilt as well? How do I make amends to the people who have been hurt by this event?

Open Heart

I'm currently reading a book by Kenneth E. Bailey entitled Jesus Through Middle Eastern Eyes. Dr. Bailey spent over 40 years living and teaching in the Middle East. He is Christian and his specialities include culture and language, including Arabic, Hebrew and Aramaic.

In Chapter 7, The Lord's Prayer: God our Father, Dr. Bailey tells a story that happened to him while giving a lecture in Riga for the Latvian Lutheran Church. His students were of the age that they would have been educated within the state communistic system. Curious about how they came to faith, he asked a young woman about her journey. She never went to church (they were outlawed), her family were atheists and she was not aware of an underground church in her area. 

The young woman explained: “At funerals, we were allowed to recite the Lord’s Prayer. As a young child I heard those strange words and had no idea who we were talking to, what the words meant, where they came from or why we were reciting them. When freedom came at last, I had the opportunity to search for their meaning. When you are in total darkness, the tiniest point of light is very bright. For me the Lord’s Prayer was that point of light. By the time I found it’s meaning I was a Christian.”

I loved this story. I love how the Holy Spirit took advantage of a young woman's curiosity and turned it into faith. No human-constructed formulaic prayer needed. Just an open heart.  

This Lent, may I have an open heart that the Holy Spirit can take advantage of.

Lent

As I write this, tomorrow is the beginning of Lent, a time of penitence and preparation.

I am aware of my sins. They pass before me like an never ending parade. How can I be ready to celebrate Easter in my current condition?

I prepare. I ask for forgiveness. Tomorrow, I will receive the ashes on my forehead. They are an outward sign of repentance and mourning. Only God knows the real condition of my heart. Only He will know if I am truly repentant.

Tonight I read an article by the Rev. Canon Dan Webster. In the article he quotes Kierkegaard: "Am I a follower of Jesus or an admirer?" If I'm honest with myself, I think on most days I'm an admirer. The quote continues: “A follower is or strives to be what he admires. An admirer, however, keeps himself personally detached,” wrote Kierkegaard. “He fails to see that what is admired involves a claim upon him, and thus he fails to be or strive to be what he admires.”

I desire to be a follower, not an admirer. The choice is mine.

This Lenten season, I strive to become a follower. I look forward to Easter morning, to the resurrection, to new beginnings.

Invisible People

On Thursday morning, I help prepare and serve breakfast for those in need. The usual Thursday volunteers include a priest and a nun, a semi-chronically homeless person and myself. We're volunteers with Dorothy Day House in Berkeley. Everyday, dedicated people get up early and make sure 180 or so of our neediest neighbors get a basic, healthy breakfast.

As my fellow volunteers and I were traveling from the kitchen where we cook the food to the dining room where we serve the food (that's another story), we talked about our guests. We wondered when their lives went off the rails. What were their dreams as children? When did they lose those dreams?

Many of our guests are the people you pass by on the sidewalk everyday and don't even notice. They're anonymous. They're invisible. And, as Jesus reminds us, they're our neighbors.

Some of our guests need help, but resources for the poor aren't available. National interest in helping the poor doesn’t seem to exist, either. The poor are unable to afford lobbyists to advocate Congress or state legislatures on their behalf.

I think there's a difference between meeting a need and solving a problem. As volunteers, we can meet a need. What we can't do is solve the problem.

To solve the problem, we have to start seeing the poor. Then, we have to start seeing the poor as our neighbors. We have to realize that the poor are just like us. They too have hopes and dreams. They want shelter, food, security and opportunities. They want to dream about a future that's better than their present.

If the words of the prophets of old are true, then what God will judge this nation for is not whether we allow marriage equality for all, but rather for how we treat the least of these in our midst.

Stephen Colbert so poignantly reminded us: “If this is going to be a Christian nation that doesn't help the poor, either we have to pretend that Jesus was just as selfish as we are, or we've got to acknowledge that He commanded us to love the poor and serve the needy without condition and then admit that we just don't want to do it.”

Pandering

Pander: to do what somebody wants, or try to please them, especially when this is not acceptable or reasonable (Oxford Advanced Learner’s Dictionary).

I don’t think I’m stretching the truth too much when I say that most politicians will say just about anything to get elected. After all, it’s well known that presidential candidates run to the extreme wing of their respective parties during a primary and start running more to the center of the party during a general election.

Case in point: Newton Leroy Gingrich.

Mr. Gingrich, who is never at a loss for words, has said some remarkable things in the last week or so. Starting with the promise to have an American permanent base on the moon by the end of his 2nd term (talk about having a positive outlook), to vowing to preemptively striking either or both Iran and North Korea should he feel the need to do so, to stating that he would direct his State Department to both recognize Jerusalem as the capital of Israel and to move the American embassy there.

Nothing about jobs for the vast majority of Americans who are both unemployed and actively looking for work.

Is Gingrich assuming that he’ll have an Republican congress following behind him like a lost puppy? Or is he going to enact his legislative agenda via executive orders?

But I’d like to focus on just one of Gingrich’s outlandish promises - the colonization of the moon. Because no matter what you call it, establishing a permanent base on the moon has the effect of colonizing the moon.  Say what you will about Gingrich, he’s not stupid. But, I have to wonder if he really thinks that by no later than 2021, when he supposedly leaves office following his 2nd term, we’ll have the infrastructure in place to support permanent habitation on the moon? And what about the so-called “Moon Treaty” (formerly known as Agreement Governing the Activities of the States on the Moon and Other Celestial Bodies) which prohibits any one country from laying claim to the moon and instead provides for international jurisdiction? Conveniently for Gingrich, the United States never got around to signing that treaty. For that matter, neither did any country that has an active space program. Of course, a permanent base is going to require protection which will effectively mean the militarization of the moon. Does he imagine neither Russia or China will care about what we’re doing up there? I have a feeling they will care. I imagine they would have a strong reaction.  I imagine they’ll be concerned about a military base located on the moon.

While this might be good news for the possibly thousands of engineers and technicians who have experience  working on space programs (assuming that the private contractors that Gingrich envisions developing the necessary hardware to support his vision actually hire unemployed former NASA employees), what does this mean for the rest of the unemployed Americans who are looking for work?

Well, we’re SOL. Again.

If, for some reason, Gingrich is elected to the presidency, I don’t believe he’ll follow through with this pledge. First of all, I don’t think he meant it when he first said it. He was simply trying to raise the hopes of unemployed (or soon to be unemployed) NASA employees in hopes that they would vote for him. Second, does he think Congress will appropriate the funds necessary to support this boondoggle? And while he dreams of private contractors taking the lead, will a government agency have oversight? Who will ensure the safety and well being of the astronauts/colonizers who embark on this mission?

I don’t think he has the answer to these questions. I don’t think he really believes this is feasible. I think he’s pandering.

Don’t we deserve more? Don’t we deserve politicians that have real solutions to our very real problems? Mr. Gingrich doesn’t seem to offer a realistic solution to our national problems. We deserve more, we deserve better.

Let’s hope Newt and Calista never have the opportunity to redecorate the Oval Office.

Cookies

Our neighbors are a blended family. The children range from kindergarten to college. They are a loving family. Their house is frequently a beehive of activity.

Over the holidays, the parents went on a trip to Europe. The children stayed with their other parents. The child that is a high-school student decided to have a party at the house and invited a few friends over. In this day of instant communication, some of the “few friends” had invited a few more friends and soon there were over a hundred young people in the house and out on the street. They were quite loud. One of the neighbors called the police and the party broke up.

A few evenings ago, the high-school student (accompanied by his youngest siblings who wanted to hang out) knocked on our door. He had with him notes and plates of cookies. He apologized for the disturbance. He explained how the the party had gotten out of hand and seemed genuinely remorseful. We weren’t the only neighbors he was going to visit that evening.

His act of contrition helped restore my faith in his generation. Even though I am probably 40 years older than he is, I remember being his age. I would have been mortified if my mother had made me bake cookies, write a notes of apology and deliver both cookies and notes to my neighbors. He learned a valuable lesson. He learned we don’t live in the world in isolation. We need to be cognizant that often, our individual actions negatively impact our neighbors and when they do, those relationships need to be restored. He made a mistake, he owned up to it, and he made amends. I know many adults who could learn a valuable life lesson from this young man.

Thank you. And, thanks for the cookies.