New for the Holidays

Here we are again, Christmas is upon us, and, if you are like me, there are things that rest in your holiday DNA that just seem to jump out year after year. My "must do" list includes putting candles in the window (now I use the flameless ones); arranging oranges and walnuts in bowls, preparing hot chocolate with peppermint sticks and gobs of freshly whipped cream, setting up the crèche with the magi in transit, and in homage to my Scandinavian in-laws, simmering glogg based loosely on Uncle Ole's recipe: aquavit or rum with raisins, blanched whole almonds, cinnamon sticks, cloves and orange peel mixed with hearty red wine. There have been variations of this basic recipe over the years with many debates and annual rivalries, but the spirit of the "spirit" of the Christmas Spirit was always accompanied by the smell of warm glogg on the stove.  

A very Swanson Christmas

So, our familial traditions were always a mishmash of Northern European traditions: Irish, British, German and Swedish melded with the  hustle and bustle of New York City during the holidays...a cosmopolitan celebration of mixed messages: blue and white Chanukah  lights with dreidels, latkes, jelly doughnuts, and chocolate coins covered in "gold" foil; Salvation Army Santas ringing their bells on the streets in Manhattan by Macy's; the decorated shop windows along Fifth and Seventh Avenues; the over-the-top Christmas lights in Dyker Heights and Belmont; the smell of roasting chestnuts near the Rockefeller Center Tree; the decorations at St. Patrick's Cathedral; the Nutcracker at the NYC Ballet; the decorated trees at Lincoln Center and Wall Street...these all mix together to make this time of year a great time to be in the city that never sleeps.

Over the past few years I have had to adapt my holiday activities to my new lifestyle as a downsized single adult.  I went from my parents' house to living with my late spouse in various apartments and houses.  I now essentially have a space of my own which is smaller than the space that could hold 30 to 40 people for a party or other gathering. So, you adapt. December 23rd will find me with cousins in Connecticut for a holiday gathering.  I show up with a good bottle of wine and assorted gifts for kiddoes and have a wonderful time. On Christmas Eve after the family service at my church, I take my immediate family and others to dinner at my favorite restaurant. I have given up wrapping lots and lots of presents and take the kinder and grandkinder to a NYC event of their choosing.  This year they chose to return to that New York staple: the Christmas Show at Radio City Music Hall complete with dancing Santas and high-kicking Rockettes. Christmas Day itself will be low-key.  Lunch at my son's with the newest grandchild and others for an informal gathering. New traditions for a new chapter of life.
                          

Now, it is important for all of us to understand that we are celebrating real miracles.  For our Jewish friends, it is the miracle of the Festival of Lights; a time for new hope and revitalization. For we Christians it is the miracle of the Incarnation: God made man. The beginning of our salvation story. So, Come let us celebrate together; gather with friends and family; enjoy old traditions or start new ones; blend and bend and dance and sing together: Let the Earth rejoice!

Take Responsibility, Already!

While watching a cable news network a few days ago, a lead story about the role that "fake" news articles played in our recent national elections was aired. In this short "spot", one of the cable news guys interviewed a normal looking man who lives in California.  Now, what makes this particular man a bit unusual was how he supplemented his income.  He wrote what he happily described as "fake" news stories deliberately designed to deceive.  He admitted that the "header" to the story was an almost exact replica of the "header" used by a well known and well respected online news network.

He admitted writing a completely false "news" article that slandered and besmirched the reputation of one of the candidates for President of the United States. He claims to have earned about $8,000 for the piece that was seen by over 1.5 million people and passed on by 500,000 of them.
He claims that this might be something he should not have sent out, but took no personal responsibility for his decietful actions.
 
Don't get him wrong, he was happy to finally talk to someone from a "real" news organization, but wondered aloud why they had not been investigating this kind of behavior before the election was over. No one stepped in to stop him, so he just went along his merry way creating false stories about people and getting financial reward for reeking havoc and openly lying.  Gee whiz, he knew it was wrong, but no one knew he was doing it, so he just continued to do it because he got rewarded for behavior he knew was wrong...and, just so you know...it was NOT his fault.  No one stopped him; no one called him out, and no seemed to care. In his mind that made it okay for him to act badly.  Shame on him.

In the case of this unwise writer, no one died as a result of his bad behavior.

This, unfortunately, is not true of another more tragic event in the news.  The deaths of 36 in a fire in a warehouse that was being used in ways inappropriate to its design or purpose.

The owners are recorded crying and wailing in front of TV cameras. The husband cried when he realized his children could be removed from this obviously unsafe household; the wife protested that they did not have the financial means to correct violations that they knew existed, so they just did nothing. One of their illegal tenants blamed gentrification for seeking housing in an unsafe sub-divided building; she had been, in her description "pushed out" of the housing market in two other California cities, and thought it a reasonable idea to join in the "artistic community" that was renting space form the owner who knew people were living in the space under less than ideal situations. They collectively blamed the local police and fire department for not citing their many violations and shutting them down, thus preventing the horrendous loss of life caused by a fire in a space with inadequate means of egress.  No one called them on the violations; they knew their were problems; they did nothing to correct the problems; people died as a result. Shame on them.

As a society, what have we devolved into here?  No one seems to want to take responsibility for their ill-advised or just plain bad choices.  We have all made bad choices. Some were small ones ( I did so love those brown leather boots I bought years ago, but boy, did they hurt my feet); others are much larger with larger implications: the road not taken; the job turned down; the opportunity missed. But one thing remains constant.  Owning our errors, our mistakes, our foolish choices will only help us to become stronger and more complete people. If one cannot do this, one is permanently stuck in a state of arrested development that will block personal growth into full and responsible personhood. And shame on us all.

The holidays are here! Oh ,NO!

November begins the wild and crazy holiday season in these parts. In my case, it begins on November 10th, the birthday of my second child and segues through my daughter-in-law's thirtieth birthday, the anniversary of my husband's death, what would have been my 43rd wedding anniversary, Advent, Holly Ball, TLC Christmas party, Wagner College Choir Concert, Gay  Men's Chorus Concert,  Christmas Pageant, Radio City and Rockettes, Christmas Eve lunch at Soup Kitchen, then dual Christmas Eve services with steel drummers, children's choir, and ukulele group ( yes, kids and ukes) ,Christmas Day somewhere, eldest child's fortieth birthday on Christmas, two other cousins with birthdays on that say, then Boxing Day, New Year's Eve and Day and finally, Twelfth Night/ Epiphany/Three Kings Day. I think that is the complete list, but you also need to add  Physical Therapy twice a week, gym five days a week, filing papers for the final discretionary funds and reviewing grant opportunities for the upcoming year. And I am in what some call "retirement".

Someone recently emailed asking if I could give them a December date for a phone conference.  I replied, "NO", and I mean it emphatically. For those of us who are ordained folk in any church, this time of year is second only to Easter week.  That, of course, is a the major feast in the Christian tradition, but popular culture has caused this time of year to stretch both religious and secular society to its farthest limits. Too many gifts to wrap, too many invitations to respond to, too many holiday traps to skirt around, too many people to attend to, visit, placate and disappoint in the few short weeks of this manic season, these demands on time and talent can bring each one of us to our own personal breaking point.

And then there are those for whom this time of year brings back bad memories and despair. Folks whose childhood memories of the holidays bring with them personal nightmares that were more real than any of us can fathom. There are others who have lost so many loved ones that they are often the only ones left of their immediate and often extended families. For these folks this is a most difficult time of year.

So, as a community of spiritual support what do we do? And as an individual, what can you do?  I am not quite sure.  I think we, as individuals, need to take time out of every day to sit in some sort of silence and mediate on these things in our hearts. Oh, I could say invite someone who you know is alone to your celebrations; buy or provide gifts for the homeless or those in need, but many of these things are done to "give back" ( don't get me started on that phrase) or to make the giver feel good. This is what those of us in the religious/social service sector call "Toxic Charity".

Last week at the Soup Kitchen where we normally have about 15 volunteers cook and serve lunch we had 35 people show up to prepare and serve lunch. Next week we'll be back to our regular number. These "holiday helpers" come with their own expectations about how they are interacting with those they perceive as the "deserving poor". They often unintentionally "muck up the works" with knee-jerk reactions to our cadre of regular guests who have been known to basically "play them" to game the system. I have had holiday volunteers give money and metro cards to guests; wrap up extra food and dole it out to people they have just met and who have given them a very sad story, and in extreme cases, have had newbies give out their phone numbers to folks they have just met in case they needed any thing else.

Every week we deal with whomever the Lord sends us to feed, no questions asked. What does that mean to those who come once or twice a year to help out? I am not sure; do they even think about the needs of others the rest of the year? This is something I struggle with mightily during this time of year. Prayer helps, but the doubts still rise. February can't come fast enough for me.

Election Blues

Well, boys and girls, it is finally over, finished , done, in the can, one for the books, baked in the cake. And we move on as a nation. I know, I know some of us...many of us, are frustrated at what some may consider the archaic electoral college system that decides how we elect our nation's leader.
It is an indirect system that attempts to give all of our states equal footing when deciding who gets to hold the highest office in the land.  We vote for designated electors who in turn, vote for President.
This was designed to allow those states with smaller populations to have similar political clout as those that have a higher population...a reflection of the old "states rights" feelings of our Founding Fathers...take note of   phrase..."Founding Fathers".

Our country was divided before the election, and to some extent, it remains so at this point.  One candidate received more of the popular vote, but did not receive the needed number of electoral votes to win.  The other won the required number of electoral votes, but lagged behind in the popular vote tally.  The President-elect will take office knowing the majority of the people in his country did not support his candidacy, not an enviable position to be in.

This is only one of a handful of times this has happened.  And this has happened twice in my lifetime.
Many Americans are calling for an end to the electoral college system, but for me that is a discussion and a battle for another day.

Now, I may be saying something here that some may not agree with.  That usually has not stopped me in the past, and I am reluctant to paint any other American citizen as a less stellar person. So, here goes...and I am treading lightly:

This election has exposed a dark underbelly of racism and misogyny that many of us had hoped was out-of-date.  Please do not think I am saying all those who voted for the President-elect are all racists and misogynists; they are not. Many hold respected conservative views and values that are important to the fabric of this nation: hard work, persistence, and a deep love of family and nation...these values are also held by many people who voted for the losing candidate as well. But, as I have said in the past, some boys just don't want any girl to win.

I had hoped I would be able in my lifetime to vote for and elect a woman President, and I did one of those two things. I hope that on today, my daughter's 38th birthday, she and her sister and niece will be able to do both within their lifetimes.

...Keeping the faith

“…I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith”  2Tim 4:7

We are in the season of races. As I write this, the Chicago Cubs have secured another shot at redemption on their road to the World Series.  The Cubbies, as their long suffering fans affectionately call them, have not had an easy time of it throughout their long history. The Cubs were established in 1876 and are the longest playing franchise in its original city. In 1906, the Cubs won a Major League record 116 games, finishing 116–36 and posted a modern-era record winning percentage of .763, before losing the World Series four games to two. The Cubs won back-to-back World Series championships in 1907 and 1908, becoming the first Major League team to play in three consecutive World Series, and the first to win it twice. The team has appeared in a total of ten World Series. The Cubs have not won the World Series in 108 years, and they had not won the National League pennant in 71.  The cause, of course is that famous or infamous “Billy Goat Curse”

 In game four of the 1945 series, the Curse of the Billy Goat as allegedly laid upon the Cubs when Wrigley ejected Billy Sianis, owner of the “Billy Goat Tavern” came with two box seat tickets, one for him and one for his goat.  Wrigley demanded the goat leave the park due to its unpleasant odor. Upon his ejection, Sianis uttered, "The Cubs, they ain't gonna win no more." The Cubs lost game four, lost the series, and have not been back since. That is until yesterday.

While scrolling through my Facebook page earlier this week, I saw a photo of my son holding my 8-month old grand-son on his lap, both decked out in Jets green bemoaning the fact that, even at this early juncture in the football season, they are no longer contenders. But you don’t have to feel sorry for the little guy; his Mom is a rabid Giant’s fan and will quickly break out the blue wardrobe in time for him to be happily bounced on her knee as they switch to the team that is still in the race.

And of course, there is that other race going on…the one we all can agree has definitely gone on far too long.  The one that will mercifully be over by the second week in November. The day cannot come soon enough for me.  We have endured more hours of politician pundits parsing all sorts of campaign speech than we really want to think about as we are being bombarded by debate clips, sound bites from rallies and dinners, and more opinions from talking heads who argue among themselves over who won what and where and why. It will be over soon.

In today’s New Testament Reading we hear the words attributed to the Apostle to the Gentiles, Paul in one of his Pastoral Letters to his students and companion Timothy. Timothy was the child of a Jewish mother and a Gentile father. He was sent by Paul to settle some dispute with the early Church at Corinth. One thing about these letters is evident: we read them in vacuum.  We don’t know what the other half of the correspondence looks like. But they also give us insight into the workings and philosophy of the early believers.

In this letter Paul shares with Timothy his disappointment at being deserted and defenseless in his journey of faith.   His persecution is real, and he is tired. He is sounding frustrated and exhausted. Many of us in this time and place feel the same kinds of frustrations with our own work, and like Paul we need to understand that our work has value. Paul tells us :“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race. I have kept the faith”.  Notice Paul does not claim that he has won either the fight or the race.  He has fought mightily and completed his race. We should all hope for the same thing. Being number one is not in Paul’s sphere. His number one is not the world’s number one.

This past week I received the news that a dear friend had died.  We met when we were in our early twenties. She was a friend of my sister’s who became my friend as well.  She and the guy in her life…later her husband, were two wild and crazy kids. After they were married they were sent to Malawi with his job, and there they found Jesus. Their children and church work became an important part of their lives together.  Once they returned to England…his birthplace, they became lay preachers and were eventually ordained to the priesthood in the Anglican Church.  They shared ministry in a small struggling working class parish in Canley near Coventry where she ran mothers’ groups, teen groups and cooked large and authentic Italian meals for everyone in the neighborhood. He led liturgy and ran Bible study. Together they were a formidable clergy team. About six months ago, she found out she had inoperable cancer, and died surrounded by her family on Thursday morning.

She did not win her fight with cancer, yet she did fight the good fight. She received no prize for running the programs and touching the lives of so many, but she did finish the race.  And I have no doubt that she kept the faith. My hope for all of us today is that we, like Paul and my friend, will preserver and have the grace and faith to do the same.

The Seasons; They Are A-Changing....

I can feel it in the air.  Summer and all that it entails is on the way out, and autumn is about to segue into  the city.

A few weeks ago, I was in Paris with friends and relatives enjoying the last throes of summertime in the city of light.  We visited shops, restaurants, cafes, parks and museums jacket-free and foot-sandled. We took an evening Seine River cruise watching the twinkling Eiffel Tower and the brilliant sunset that accompanied it.   And then...BAM! The last two days of rain and wind came upon us, indicating that even the French are facing the same seasonal changes we were anticipating.

On our return, I could feel the change approaching. The days are getting shorter. The sun's light has a different slant and feel and reflection.  The moon is rising higher and the night sky is changing...different stars and constellations are making their return to the soon to be winter sky. Orion, Ursa Major and Minor, and Cassiopeia are making their annual appearance in the night skies along with the planets Mars, Venus and Jupiter. These twinkling lights make stargazing this time of year a joy, and I often spend evenings just watching the eastern sky as they move across it.

It is always sad when summer leaves the scene. Back in time when I was a student, it meant a return to the classroom and more studying, returning from our summers in the countryside, returning to our urban neighborhood in New York City and getting back into the normal routine. That pattern continued as I taught school: for me the year ended in August and began in September.

But nowadays, as the leaves start to turn orange, red and gold, I think of times past, and the years that have seemed to fly by me. How life is changing all the time, as fast as the summer leaves turn to flame and, once brown and withered, fall to the ground.

This time of year seems to bring out the melancholy that rests easy in my spring and summer soul.  I often think about Marcel Proust and his lengthy literary work "Remembrance of Things Past" ( in French "A la recherché des temps perdu"). This is considered to be one of the defining novels of the twentieth century known for its theme of involuntary memory. These moments of being drawn into a moment of memory triggered by a sound, a sight, a smell or even a sensation often happen this time of year. The sound of the rake scrapping up the fallen leaves; the sight of autumnal colored branches swaying on a blustery day; the smell of apples baking in a cake or pie; the sensation of the autumn wind blowing against your face and messing your hair: these triggers can cause those involuntary memories to rise up and capture you unawares.

And...this is not a bad thing. Some melancholy can be good for the soul as long as we don't sit in it for too long. Luckily for us, winter is never far behind the fall. The season filled with festivities that brings with it the anticipation of things soon to be...new life and hope  And hope does spring eternal.
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One of my favorites:

https://www.bing.com/search?q=autumn+leaves+barbara+striestand&form=EDGEAR&qs=PF&cvid=8fea62527b2947698feb703669c47aa3&pq=autumn+leaves+barbara+striestand

One hymn, two congregations

This past Sunday I got to attend church twice at two very different congregations. One located in a residential section of a New York City outer borough, the other smack-dab in the middle of Manhattan where Broadway and Fifth Avenue cross nestled nicely at the edge of a lovely city park.
One is a housed congregation, the other is in an open space that is subject to the various twists and turns of local weather in the Northeast United States. In one I read the Gospel, introduced the prayers, and dismissed the faithful in my role as deacon of that congregation.  In the other, although I was asked to read the reading from Jeremiah, I got to spend the rest of the time just being part of the congregation...a nice change for me.

Both groups shared prayers for peace and understanding.  Both groups prayed for a member of the congregation celebrating milestones, whether it was a child returning from a trip to visit relatives in Europe, or a member celebrating a milestone birthday. Each group recited the "Lord's Prayer" together, most from memory, and both groups partook of a shared communion of bread and either wine or grape juice. And...both groups got to sing the same rousing hymn at the service.

"God of Grace and God of Glory" was written in 1930 for the dedication of Riverside Church in Manhattan by its then pastor, Harry Emerson Fosdick, ordained Baptist minister and former World War I chaplain.  Fosdick was a strong supporter of the social gospel movement; the hymn was written while the nation, and indeed the world, was in the throws of the Great Depression. The repeated call :"Grant us wisdom; grant us courage..," definitely spoke to the members of his congregation, and soon the hymn, which is now sung to that classic Welsh tune "Cwe Rhodda"...don't ask me to pronounce it...I know it when I hear it...is now widely sung throughout mainline Protestant congregations . It is a real rouser with great high notes for tenors and sopranos to trill about, but baritones and altos...like me...can also join with joyful noise.

But just what are we asking for when we engage in this particular hymn? Well, the answer to that question lies at the end of every stanza: For the facing of these days; for the living of this hour; lest we miss they kingdom's goal; and serving thee whom we adore. Pretty straightforward, and it certainly still speaks to us today.

But in my study of this hymn, I discovered a stanza not in the hymnal:

"Set our feet on lofty places,
Gird our lives that they may be,
Armored with all Christ-like graces,
In the fight to set men free.
Grant us wisdom, grant us courage,
That we fail not man nor Thee,
That we fail not man nor Thee."

I will admit that this stanza has some language that as a life long feminist, I find a bit,well, paternalistic, but the sentiment still holds true. In this season of electoral decision, I think we need to remember that our charge is to choose the person most qualified to  lead this nation into a future where our overarching responsibility will be to further the rights and responsibilities of all of those who live, move and have there being in our home nation.

Here is a rendition of the hymn:
http://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=god+of+garac+eand+god+of+glory...you+tuebe&&view=detail&mid=07CCED045503B9C37E7A07CCED045503B9C37E7A&rvsmid=C8C75E2584C601F4BEC7C8C75E2584C601F4BEC7&fsscr=0&FORM=VDFSRV