Beggars looking for bread

I've heard someone define a community of faith as "beggars looking for bread and telling others where to find it." The image works for me. We are each looking for that which will nourish us, feed us, sustain us, strengthen us --- seems to me a community of faith is as good a place as any in which to find this.

The image of "beggars" humbles us and puts us on an even footing with our fellow beggars in the search for nourishment. If you've ever visited one of the old churches built circa 17th or 18th centuries one notes how high up is the pulpit. The preachers of the day towered above their trembling congregants as they preached down to them and often told of pending wrath. Not my style. Yet, I've preached in pulpits where I had to climb a few steps to enter and in pulpits where I was enclosed very uncomfortably and felt...well, trapped and caged.

I much prefer the "church in a round" style of design where everyone is on the same level and sits in a circle to be able to see one's neighbor and the pastor moves among the folks or, if going from notes, makes use of a small lectern placed in the center of the congregation. Often when beginning a new appointment a congregant would ask, "So, what do we call you?" "Sally is fine," I replied. More times than not the parishioner was a bit taken aback and stated, "No, I mean do you like Reverend or Pastor?" "I like Sally, that works for me." My favorite reference was from the kids who called me Rev Sal or from one parishioner who took great delight in calling me Padre.

It seems to me when one is part of a group about seeking nourishment and being fed, titles are quickly discarded...as they should be. I must confess, however, when in need of a perk, I do still, on occasion, drop the Reverend Snyder line....sigh.....

Why I like the metaphor is the implication that we are to be invested in one another and are to help one another, to help all the others....no exceptions. I who remain top of the list of persons least-likely to be ordained am in no position to question any one's calling. Yet, I do believe that being involved in ministry must have a prophetic foundation. The ultimate goal must not be about earning (as if we can) enough heaven points to make it in, the goal must be about active help, proactive compassion and shared labor for others. If I know where there is bread and tell only the folks like me or those whom I like and think are good enough and virtuous enough, then I have ceased to be a beggar helping my fellow beggars to be strengthened and have become a "bread baron" controlling and judging and ignoring persons still hungry and still searching.

We need to be asking why so many persons, and many of them in their 20's and 30's, find organized religion irrelevant and inconsequential. Perhaps we've grown complacent or we don't want to put in the work or listen to what they would tell us and then make the necessary...gasp!...change.

I was raised in a home where my grandmother and my mother baked home-made bread. One of the best things is that first slice of warm bread! I was raised in a home where when persons who were lost or hungry or impoverished would knock on our door they were welcomed in and a fresh pot of coffee was brewed and a loaf of bread and strawberry jam was placed on the table and shared.

Happy Pentecost.

sj;

Hot dogs, baseball and calls

Staying power --- resiliency --- to keep showing up --- to be you....beautifully, boldly you.

Those qualities have always attracted me and persons who evidence them have my respect and admiration.

This week, we mourn the passing on of the writer, poet, advocate, presence and passion Maya Angelou. Almost twenty years ago, I had the opportunity to hear her perform live and what stayed with me from that performance was first, that deep, elegant, rich voice and second, that the spoken word when delivered from the soul spot can captivate and capture an audience.

When I learned of her passing, I tweeted that in her memory I would have a hot dog and a Corona for Maya said, "I love a Hebrew national hot dog with an ice cold Corona, no lime. If the phone rings I won't answer it until I'm done." Now that's my kind of woman (although I do like a slice of lime in my Corona) -- a woman totally comfortable with herself and present to the moment....the phone call can wait...the email can wait...the knock at the door can wait... it's the time for a cold beer and a hot dog.

Before the poem at President Clinton's first inaugural, Maya was perhaps best known for her poem, "Still I Rise" and the opening lines:

"You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? ‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns, With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still I’ll rise."

I encourage you to read the whole poem. Better yet, commit it to memory. Better still, live that self-awareness and contained fire.

This week I was in Harrisburg for a meeting and the Harrisburg Senators, the city's Double-A minor league baseball team, were in town so I walked to the park to catch a game. It was a delight! What really impressed me was the age of some of the players --- 29, 30, 31. For a baseball player that's nearing old age and to still be playing on the Double-A level....whoa. Yet, they were out there enjoying playing the game, taking their cuts and inning after inning hustling to their positions in front of the 2500 fans who gathered. Their love of what they were doing, playing the game of baseball kept them showing up.

I've been doing an on-line course based on the book by Sister Joan Chittister, OSB called "Following the Path." The book is about answering one's call and doing what one has been gifted to do and placed on this earth to accomplish. I believe we each are called...it's not just a clergy thing. A hint on what that calling may be is that which when you are doing it you feel most alive, most present and have no sense of time nor do you check the clock.

Whatever one's calling...by all means and purposes and with passion and preparation...do it!

By the living of it, one will be most alive and that is a blessing that abounds and resounds!

sj;

Happy 60th!

While working at the Children’s Defense Fund in Washington, DC, once a year the entire staff had a day of volunteering. We were divided into teams and sent to various projects around the District. One year, my team and I were sent to a local, public elementary school. I do not recall the name, yet, it was the stereotypical, inner-city, Washington, DC school found in a lower-economic, crime burdened neighborhood that persons with money avoid and send their kids to private schools.

The first thing I remember as we walked to the school were the bullet holes on one of the doors that lead into the building.

As we entered the school and headed to the classroom to talk and spend the day with a classroom of fourth graders, I noticed the only signs on the hall walls were ones made from construction paper by students for their school elections campaign work. My favorite, by far, was Alisha whose sign was, “VOTE FOR ALISHA FOR CLASS SECRETARY! I CAN WRITE IN CURSIVE!” I wanted to be her campaign manager.

As we talked and interacted with the students several told us that the previous week they could not go on the playground because “someone got shot and died there and the cops had to come look into it.”

Others shared, “Most weeks we probably get to go out on the playground a couple days a week cause of the crack vials and the needles. Teachers don’t want us out there.”

These fourth-graders shared this matter-of-factly as one would tell about last night’s little league game.

This is an elementary school in 21st Century America.

May 17, 2014 is the 60th Anniversary of the historic “Brown .vs. Board of Education” Supreme Court Ruling which said public schools must be integrated. Of course, with most Supreme Court decisions there’s the ruling and then the implementation of the ruling. In other words, we’re still working on this one.

A free, public education is foundational to democracy.

Every child should go to a school in a safe neighborhood, with clean playgrounds, the most modern technology and the very best teachers. Every child.

Good for the kid who goes to a school with posters promoting summer education trips to Florida; great for the kid who can take Japanese as a language option. Should we not, however, make sure every kid has small classroom size, current textbooks, and computers?

I spent five years working as a regional and statewide organizer for the “Good Schools PA Campaign” which anchored our work in the belief that every child should have access to quality, well-resourced education and that one’s zip code should not determine the quality of one’s education.

You and I both know that zip codes still are indicators of the quality of education a child will receive. Schools are becoming re-segregated around lines, yes, of race and also of income...sadly, those things seem easily interchangeable.

One of my most favorite quotes is by Simone Weil who said, “Love’s first step is attention.” If this post grabbed yours, then I’ll be curious to see where love leads you.

sj;