So I have started several posts about exciting things and then I get bogged down in details. I realized part way through my incredibly long post about Maine that people might not actually care to read an entire blow by blow of my weekend. I also realized that I don't really care, they can stop reading at any time. I kinda like being able to look back and remember what happened. So I am slogging along on that.
Just now I had a brief scare when I thought I would be giving a sermonette out on the common tonight (sort of a last minute thing). It reminded me of the last time I gave a sermonette and I decided to post that for the two of you who haven't already read it :).
So here it is:
Tonight I want to talk about loss and I want to talk about blessings. I want to talk about how through all of it, everything belongs to God and the God we serve is a God who wants the best for us.
There was a guy in the Bible named Job. He was a great guy, he was rich and happy and had a big family that all got along and a lot of property and he wasn’t stuck up or proud, and was incredibly faithful to God. The story goes that one day Satan was up chatting with God and God said, have you seen my servant Job who’s soo faithful? And Satan was like, duh he’s faithful look at all you’ve given him, it’s easy to be faithful when you’re rich and your family gets along etc. So God says, no, he’s really faithful, do whatever you want to him as long as you don’t physically hurt him and you’ll see.
Of course Job didn’t know any of this was going on so he’s living his life like normal, praying for his children to be faithful thanking God for his blessings etc. when a servant comes running to him and says the oxen that were plowing and the donkeys nearby were taken by a gang visiting the village and I was the only one who survived. Before Job could say anything, another servant comes running from the other direction and says, there was a freak fire and all the sheep were burned up and I am the only one who survived! Then another servant came running from yet another direction and said your camels were stolen and all of the servants riding them, and I am the only one who survived. Then ANOTHER servant came running (I think we all know where this is going) and he said there was a tornado that hit the house of your oldest son and all of your children and grandchildren were killed and I was the only one who escaped.
Talk about a bad day right? I would be whining and complaining and I would certainly be bitching to God. But this is what Job says:
Naked I came from my mother's womb,
and naked I will depart.
The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away;
may the name of the LORD be praised
Let me repeat that one more time. That’s what he said in the face of all that loss. May the name of the lord be praised. I’m not gonna lie, I have been hugely blessed, but everyone’s had some loss right? Think of the most blessed person you know, brad pitt Angelina jolie, whoever it is whatever person you know who has the greatest life ever, they’ve all had some kind of loss. And I can tell you when I have had my losses, I haven’t handled it with the same grace as Job, I haven’t always looked at my loss recognizing whatever it was, was God’s originally and through it I need to say “May the name of the Lord be praised!” After reading the story of job and re-reading numerous times his response to loss, I now strive to live so I can say praise the lord in the face of any loss. I’m not trying to tell you I actually succeed, I fail at this a lot. But I think they’re powerful words and I pray that I can meet them, and I pray that they’re as powerful for you.
So now we’ve talked about loss, but I promised I would talk about blessings tonight too though, not just about loss. Job said, the lord gave and the lord has taken away, so let’s talk for a moment about when the lord gives, or his blessings. . . .There are two passages I want to read about blessings, the first is:
Matthew 7:9-11:
9"Which of you, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone? 10Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? 11If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!
I was telling a friend of mine recently (and I really believe this when I am at my best) that our God is a God who gives us far more than we ask or imagine, sadly in the process the obvious/ best choices we see don't fit into that “I'm giving you more than you can imagine plan” and so we're left wondering what the heck is wrong with God that he can't see what we need/desire and give us just that meanwhile he's probably thinking I KNOW I GOT IT, thanks for your input but I am handling it!!! Or as he said to our friend Job at one point when being questioned, chapter 38: 2 -3 "Who is this that darkens my counsel with words without knowledge? Brace yourself like a man; I will question you, and you shall answer me."
Usually, God isn’t that vocal though, and we’re left to wonder as we continue to pray/ask for good things what he could possibly be thinking. The thing is, God has promised to give us good gifts (and not because we deserve them – because we don’t in the least, but because he loves us), He’s promised us good things, but he hasn’t promised to give us everything we desire.
I have a friend whose brother was in a cult. The friend and his family prayed for years that the brother would see the light, that he would leave the cult and re-join the faith of his childhood. Wasn’t that a good thing? Why wasn’t God answering? Because our God is a God who can do more than we can ask or imagine. Recently the friend’s brother did return to his Christian faith but he didn’t return alone, he took everyone in his cult with him and they’re now a budding Christian Congregation. There are lots more examples (I am sure you can think of some yourself) where God’s timing and God’s blessing is far more perfect than anything we can ask for.
I’m not saying it’s not tough waiting for that blessing, yeah, it sucks for now I get that I am often right there with you in the frustration, but I also know that God does such amazing things when we let him that we need to stop getting caught up in that frustration, and focus on his power and goodness. Sometimes we have to pray to have the desire to have the patience we need, or the desire to have the understanding, when we can't just pray for patience or understanding because we’re still to focused on what WE think is better or what timing we think God should have. We’ve forgotten Job’s reminder that we came with nothing and it’s all God’s and we need to praise him no matter what.
I said I had two verses on blessings I wanted to read. The second passage I wanted to read comes from Ephesians and I would like to close with it.
Ephesians 3:20:
Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, 21to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.
So there you go, do you feel enlightened? One guy liked it so much he asked for the verses from Job. He told me he wanted to hang it on his wall. I found this rather amusing since he's homeless (so he doesn't really have a wall). I managed not to laugh at the irony and promptly gave him my copy!
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Monday, August 20, 2007
Confined Books
August 7th my small group volunteered at the Prison Book Program in Quincy (I started this blog on the 8th, but haven't managed to get it out yet). It was a lot of fun. Some of the letters were heart wrenching and you wanted to help them the best that you could, whether it was searching high and low for a Catholic Bible or trying to determine whether a book on arthritis, sports injuries and bursitis or a book on Tai Chi would better suit someone looking for a book on stretching.
Of course, being a librarian, this totally pandered to my love of finding the perfect book for someone. It also pained me to know that these people can only get books from the Prison Book Program twice a year, that because of limited resources the program can only offer up to a little over a lb worth of books (even though some people are allowed up to 5 books at a time -- which is well over a lb) and the letters are on a 2 month back log AND since books are sent media mail it can take up to 2 months from the time we send them for them to get there.
The other thing that struck me that night was the concept of compassion vs. forgiveness and how different they really are. As I was reading the letters, my heart was moved and I felt so sorry for these people in this confined situation. I felt so badly that they had no access to books etc. I wanted to do whatever I could to help. The thing is, it's not like these people are political prisoners, or refugees, except for the odd false confession, or false imprisonment, most of these people have done something bad to be in jail --I went on a short tangent in my thought process and thought well they've done one thing wrong, they've all stolen remembering a great passage from the Kite Runner:
I mean I have a hard time forgiving just the little things people do to me. . . Of course, this all makes me think of my religion and how I say EVERY week "Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us" (or some variation). How I know the parable of the man forgiven a huge debt by the king who went out and demanded repayment from someone who owed him. I know all of this, I confess all of this, I believe all of this, but could I do it if called upon?
That's really all for this post. I really am still thinking about it from time to time, wondering how hardened my heart is when something is done to me, and how much I value the grace and the gift that God has given me and thinking about how much responsibility comes with accepting that gift. . . .
Of course, being a librarian, this totally pandered to my love of finding the perfect book for someone. It also pained me to know that these people can only get books from the Prison Book Program twice a year, that because of limited resources the program can only offer up to a little over a lb worth of books (even though some people are allowed up to 5 books at a time -- which is well over a lb) and the letters are on a 2 month back log AND since books are sent media mail it can take up to 2 months from the time we send them for them to get there.
The other thing that struck me that night was the concept of compassion vs. forgiveness and how different they really are. As I was reading the letters, my heart was moved and I felt so sorry for these people in this confined situation. I felt so badly that they had no access to books etc. I wanted to do whatever I could to help. The thing is, it's not like these people are political prisoners, or refugees, except for the odd false confession, or false imprisonment, most of these people have done something bad to be in jail --I went on a short tangent in my thought process and thought well they've done one thing wrong, they've all stolen remembering a great passage from the Kite Runner:
"Now, no matter what the mullah teaches, there is only one sin, only one. And that is theft. Every other sin is a variation of theft. Do you understand that? When you kill a man, you steal a life," Baba said. "You steal his wife’s right to a husband, rob his children of a father. When you tell a lie, you steal someone’s right to the truth. When you cheat, you steal the right to fairness. Do you see?"Then I got back on track and thought if I were raped, reading these letters would I feel just as sorry for a rapist? If I were the mother of a kidnapped child, could I be just as compassionate? If I were an abused wife or a family member of a murder victim could I muster anything but hate? Could I be as gracious as the little girl a couple years ago here in Boston who forgave the man who left her paralyzed?
I mean I have a hard time forgiving just the little things people do to me. . . Of course, this all makes me think of my religion and how I say EVERY week "Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us" (or some variation). How I know the parable of the man forgiven a huge debt by the king who went out and demanded repayment from someone who owed him. I know all of this, I confess all of this, I believe all of this, but could I do it if called upon?
That's really all for this post. I really am still thinking about it from time to time, wondering how hardened my heart is when something is done to me, and how much I value the grace and the gift that God has given me and thinking about how much responsibility comes with accepting that gift. . . .
Monday, August 13, 2007
Boring is in the Eye of the Beholder
My friend who travels A LOT for business was visiting this weekend. It was a lot of fun! She and SuziB were talking at one point though and she described herself as the boring friend. She told SuziB she wasn't blogworthy. SuziB insisted she must have blogged about her at one point. She looked up the last time world traveler had been here though, and not so much.
I told my well traveled friend not to worry, my boy says I never blog about him either. So it's not a sign of being unloved or boring. My traveling friend (and he) didn't seem to buy it though. . . . (though talking to my sister last night she asked if I was even still dating the boy, last night was our 6 monthiversary -- so yes, we're still dating and perhaps my well traveled friend and boy have a point)
To prove them wrong, I am blogging about this weekend (briefly) even though I have other posts started and neglected.
This weekend was so fun, mostly because it was so laid back. My well traveled friend has been to Boston enough times that I don't feel the need to cart her to every tourist event there is. She's also an incredibly good sport and she is pretty much game for anything.
Friday night we ran a couple of errands (in the complete opposite direction of our final destination) and then headed to Jacob Wirth's for some good old fashioned sing along fun (and some hearty German food). Sadly, we were greatly disappointed in both. While last time my friend visited we had a great time singing along, this time there was one table of very loud very drunk girls ruining the fun (and at one point dumping beer down an innocent bystander's shoe). My dinner was also comically late and, as a result insanely dried out. The waitress (who we had last year and I swear hated us) was really, really kind and took it off the check completely. The sweet potato fries were well worth the trip (in my opinion) :). We went home very early though and rather bitter. We stopped for ice cream (coffee oreo) at JP Licks but went home and fell asleep before eating any.
Sat. I got my friend up at the crack of dawn and we went to the soup kitchen. I forgot some garlic at home though, so halfway to the train we turned around and got it then got on the train. I made some mistakes on the trains that resulted in us running up and down some extra flights of stairs and then catching the correct train. Finally we met my boy about 30 min late and I announced we were grabbing breakfast. We got some dunkin donuts and then took the bus the rest of the way to Chelsea, where my friend was a huge hit. When we walked into the kitchen, I turned to my friend and said ooh, it looks like frozen chicken for lunch. There were bricks of frozen thighs floating in cold water. The chef said, "yes, it's frozen, but we also have some lovely corn too. Reg said to me wouldn't it be wonderful if we could give the guests some corn on the cob?!' and I said 'yes, that would be wonderful', why don't you go get it?" So we did, it was three foot high bag of corn that needed husking. Oddly enough it was slightly frozen too. We told the chef we didn't know you could freeze corn in the husk and he said, yeah, you usually don't. The chef thought it would take us ages, 30 some minutes later we were back on schedule.
My friend stayed busy, she washed spices, shucked corn, and pulled frozen pieces of chicken apart like a pro (professional frozen chicken pullers know you always wear gloves and you stick your fingers into the crevices and let the warmth of your fingers help you melt apart the individual pieces, sometimes this means taking breaks and washing your hands in warm water to get the blood flowing again -- the best professional frozen chicken separaters have really, really good circulation). My boy left early and my friend and I caught the bus back to Boston alone. We went to Lulu's Bakeshop in the north end and got some great cupcakes (s'more, peanut butter cream, marshmallow filled, red velvet and raspberry mocha -- the last one was just a weird flavor combination) then wandered through Haymarket where we got some blueberries, Rainier cherries and a lovely assortment of tomatoes (including a little purple one) to add to those from my garden for a tomato salad.
We went home via the esplanade (for those of you from Boston, you know that that's a rather long detour). We were planning on going to the Beach Boy's concert that night and we wanted to scope it out. Our recon tour told us enough, there's no way we'd have a decent seat in the already 2/3 full concert area (the concert was still 5 hours away mind you) when we still had to go all the way home and come all the way back. We walked back to the train passing loads more people bowing under the weight of multiple camp chairs and coolers.
It was time for plan b. I called the friend we were supposed to be going to the concert with (a sort of late birthday celebration for her except she doesn't really accept birthday celebrations) and told her that the outlook wasn't good. Instead, we decided to have our picnic at our house. It was a very chill evening involving curried chicken salad sandwiches (suzib made the chicken salad even though she couldn't attend) on 7 grain bread I'd scored from the soup kitchen that day (When I suggested using the bread for something else -- I forget what, perhaps toast?-- my boy burst out, sure, it's not like it could be any harder -- which made me laugh and also ask why he hadn't said something at the time about the bread being too hard, we could have used different bread!!). We also had the fruit, and a lovely tomato salad consisting of halved cherry tomatoes and heirloom tomatoes (from my garden and the supplement from haymarket), salt, pepper, balsamic vinegar and oil -- I forgot to add in the basil I'd just picked from my garden, and 100 calorie pack chips. For dessert, obviously, we had the cupcakes. After some struggle we even managed to put on some Beach Boys. It was a lovely evening full of fun conversation (my birthday friend's mother was in town so she came along too and livened up the evening).
Sunday, my well traveled friend packed her stuff and we took it to the church. We then rushed to Filene's Basement (which is slightly a misnomer at this point as their currently on the first floor of the former Filene's as well) for a quick shopping spree and then we were off to dim sum. I love dim sum. It was a flurry of activity, women rushing at us etc. We were kind of in a corner though, so this dim sum trip also involved sending various cart women off on quests to help us find exactly what we'd been waiting for. The conversation was fun and we left with very full stomachs. Sadly, this also meant it was time for my well traveled friend to return home.
My Boy and I took her to the airport and then we returned home where I laid down suffering as I was from a cold and he made dinner which I ate in bed.
So that was last weekend (not the one we just had). I will do my best to blog again, but I don't know when. This week is shaping up to be crazed and then this weekend we're going camping at Sebago Lake in Maine.
I told my well traveled friend not to worry, my boy says I never blog about him either. So it's not a sign of being unloved or boring. My traveling friend (and he) didn't seem to buy it though. . . . (though talking to my sister last night she asked if I was even still dating the boy, last night was our 6 monthiversary -- so yes, we're still dating and perhaps my well traveled friend and boy have a point)
To prove them wrong, I am blogging about this weekend (briefly) even though I have other posts started and neglected.
This weekend was so fun, mostly because it was so laid back. My well traveled friend has been to Boston enough times that I don't feel the need to cart her to every tourist event there is. She's also an incredibly good sport and she is pretty much game for anything.
Friday night we ran a couple of errands (in the complete opposite direction of our final destination) and then headed to Jacob Wirth's for some good old fashioned sing along fun (and some hearty German food). Sadly, we were greatly disappointed in both. While last time my friend visited we had a great time singing along, this time there was one table of very loud very drunk girls ruining the fun (and at one point dumping beer down an innocent bystander's shoe). My dinner was also comically late and, as a result insanely dried out. The waitress (who we had last year and I swear hated us) was really, really kind and took it off the check completely. The sweet potato fries were well worth the trip (in my opinion) :). We went home very early though and rather bitter. We stopped for ice cream (coffee oreo) at JP Licks but went home and fell asleep before eating any.
Sat. I got my friend up at the crack of dawn and we went to the soup kitchen. I forgot some garlic at home though, so halfway to the train we turned around and got it then got on the train. I made some mistakes on the trains that resulted in us running up and down some extra flights of stairs and then catching the correct train. Finally we met my boy about 30 min late and I announced we were grabbing breakfast. We got some dunkin donuts and then took the bus the rest of the way to Chelsea, where my friend was a huge hit. When we walked into the kitchen, I turned to my friend and said ooh, it looks like frozen chicken for lunch. There were bricks of frozen thighs floating in cold water. The chef said, "yes, it's frozen, but we also have some lovely corn too. Reg said to me wouldn't it be wonderful if we could give the guests some corn on the cob?!' and I said 'yes, that would be wonderful', why don't you go get it?" So we did, it was three foot high bag of corn that needed husking. Oddly enough it was slightly frozen too. We told the chef we didn't know you could freeze corn in the husk and he said, yeah, you usually don't. The chef thought it would take us ages, 30 some minutes later we were back on schedule.
My friend stayed busy, she washed spices, shucked corn, and pulled frozen pieces of chicken apart like a pro (professional frozen chicken pullers know you always wear gloves and you stick your fingers into the crevices and let the warmth of your fingers help you melt apart the individual pieces, sometimes this means taking breaks and washing your hands in warm water to get the blood flowing again -- the best professional frozen chicken separaters have really, really good circulation). My boy left early and my friend and I caught the bus back to Boston alone. We went to Lulu's Bakeshop in the north end and got some great cupcakes (s'more, peanut butter cream, marshmallow filled, red velvet and raspberry mocha -- the last one was just a weird flavor combination) then wandered through Haymarket where we got some blueberries, Rainier cherries and a lovely assortment of tomatoes (including a little purple one) to add to those from my garden for a tomato salad.
We went home via the esplanade (for those of you from Boston, you know that that's a rather long detour). We were planning on going to the Beach Boy's concert that night and we wanted to scope it out. Our recon tour told us enough, there's no way we'd have a decent seat in the already 2/3 full concert area (the concert was still 5 hours away mind you) when we still had to go all the way home and come all the way back. We walked back to the train passing loads more people bowing under the weight of multiple camp chairs and coolers.
It was time for plan b. I called the friend we were supposed to be going to the concert with (a sort of late birthday celebration for her except she doesn't really accept birthday celebrations) and told her that the outlook wasn't good. Instead, we decided to have our picnic at our house. It was a very chill evening involving curried chicken salad sandwiches (suzib made the chicken salad even though she couldn't attend) on 7 grain bread I'd scored from the soup kitchen that day (When I suggested using the bread for something else -- I forget what, perhaps toast?-- my boy burst out, sure, it's not like it could be any harder -- which made me laugh and also ask why he hadn't said something at the time about the bread being too hard, we could have used different bread!!). We also had the fruit, and a lovely tomato salad consisting of halved cherry tomatoes and heirloom tomatoes (from my garden and the supplement from haymarket), salt, pepper, balsamic vinegar and oil -- I forgot to add in the basil I'd just picked from my garden, and 100 calorie pack chips. For dessert, obviously, we had the cupcakes. After some struggle we even managed to put on some Beach Boys. It was a lovely evening full of fun conversation (my birthday friend's mother was in town so she came along too and livened up the evening).
Sunday, my well traveled friend packed her stuff and we took it to the church. We then rushed to Filene's Basement (which is slightly a misnomer at this point as their currently on the first floor of the former Filene's as well) for a quick shopping spree and then we were off to dim sum. I love dim sum. It was a flurry of activity, women rushing at us etc. We were kind of in a corner though, so this dim sum trip also involved sending various cart women off on quests to help us find exactly what we'd been waiting for. The conversation was fun and we left with very full stomachs. Sadly, this also meant it was time for my well traveled friend to return home.
My Boy and I took her to the airport and then we returned home where I laid down suffering as I was from a cold and he made dinner which I ate in bed.
So that was last weekend (not the one we just had). I will do my best to blog again, but I don't know when. This week is shaping up to be crazed and then this weekend we're going camping at Sebago Lake in Maine.
Friday, August 3, 2007
I <3 Manhole Covers
Last night I met four interesting people, and had three interesting conversations.
1. D who has been out of jail three weeks and had alcohol in his system so he refused to pray with me though he asked me to keep him in my prayers with pleading in his eyes. He was telling me he was Boston born and bred. His great grandparents were Bostonians and so on down the line. His family has always lived in the Roxbury/Dorchester area, he acknowledged that it's a rough area now, but he said when his family first lived there (you know, great grandparents era) the neighborhood was all Jewish (you know before they all got rich and moved to Brookline and Newton ;)). His family is African American, but he was quick to point out that they were never racist, if you're nice people, you're nice people and we want you around!
He told me the story of his grandmother who owned her own beauty shop. She used to set all the black women's hair and he went on to describe how particular they are about their hair. He said at one point his grandmother went out on a cigarette break and was smoking with her hand on her hip (he demonstrated and the attitude he had was soo funny) and she noticed this white guy going around knocking on doors shaking hands. He looked totally out of place and she thought it was amusing. Her break was over though so she went back to setting hair. Awhile later, this little white man walks into her shop and asks if she's the owner, she puts her hand on her hip and says yes, giving him a look that says whaddya want? He says, Hi, I am Jack Kennedy and I wanted to introduce myself. . . . D said, she was in love from that moment on. She thought he was the greatest president and in 1963 she truly mourned. I thought it was such a cool story!
2. Another guy, we'll call him first since he told me his name was the name of the first non-Jew to become a Christian, late in the evening as we were on the verge of going in came up to me and also told me a cool story. First he showed me a beautiful red leather Bible with gilt edges he had. He said defensively, "you know all homeless people aren't crazy!" I laughed and said, "I am aware, thank you." This seemed to appease him because then he asked me to sign his Bible. I said "you want me to sign your bible?" I asked, sounding totally confused and probably a little dim. He said "yeah, what's your favorite verse? Sign by your favorite verse."
My initial thought was how much I love Isaiah 40:8 "The grass withers and the flowers fade but the word of the Lord stands forever." growing up that was always my favorite verse. The firmness, the consistency, the strength. In the past couple of years though, I have really been taught about how everything belongs to God and how in the face of loss we're called to say "May the name of the Lord be Praised" I also have had the song Blessed Be Your Name stuck in my head for two days so I chose to sign next to Job's response to all of his loss in Job 1:20-22 The man asked me where I was signing and I told him and he started quoting it and we discussed it for a bit.
Conversation diverged slightly and First told me he was Roman Catholic and he talked about Cardinal Sean O'Malley (who it turns out has his own blog which makes me think he's even cooler :)). While he was talking about him, he said he first met Sean (as he called him) when he was a bishop. He said that since that initial meeting, the Bishop remembered his name. First also said that when his sister died Sean sent his family a note and they emailed First the content and asked him how the hell he knew a bishop!
The coolest part of the conversation was when First told me that even though he's now a cardinal, he still continues to visit Pine Street Inn (one of the largest homeless shelters Boston). First had nothing but good things to say about Cardinal Sean O'Malley, including the fact that he (First) had had a vision that the Cardinal will one day be Pope (it won't happen till the third vote). So we'll see about that. I felt bad, we were going in and First so obviously wanted to continue talking (and he was very interesting). Hopefully, he'll be back next week.
3. The other conversation I had last night (actually in the middle, so this is organized topically, not chronologically) was with a couple of Russian guys, one was from 800 km outside of Moscow, and the other was from Vladivostok (I told him I'd been to Magadan once). They asked us how much the food/drinks cost and were surprised/confused when we said they were free. I told them we were with the church and that we just came out on Thursdays to hang out etc. They told me that the church in Russia doesn't do that at all. That the Russian Orthodox church might go out in the street, but they never handed out food or clothes. They said they did have people that handed stuff out but it wasn't food, they were Hare Krishnas (it was actually amusing, it took some prompting/pantomime, but we got out that they wear orange robes, and have shaved heads and pony tails).
During our conversation I also trotted out some of my Russian words (you know like a little kid). I said hi, and ice cream and beer and then I remembered how to say I like so I said I like ice cream and I like beer and then I remembered onions, so I trotted out that line and then they looked at me like I was from another planet.
The one with slightly more English asked me to say it again, really trying to understand me. Then he had an aha moment and he said, you mean lewk, not luke and he turned to the other guy spoke some Russian that included lewk and luke and said onion and the other guy laughed and nodded. I said ok, and tried it again. I don't think I still quite got the distinction. But the guy with more English was kind enough to tell me I had just told them that I liked manhole covers, and I suppose I do, in the same sense that my mother half asleep and praying with us girls once thanked God for car doors because they keep people safe. I like manhole covers because they limit the number of people falling down sewer holes, but I like onions (caramelized especially) much better (or at least more regularly).
I had such a good night last night!
1. D who has been out of jail three weeks and had alcohol in his system so he refused to pray with me though he asked me to keep him in my prayers with pleading in his eyes. He was telling me he was Boston born and bred. His great grandparents were Bostonians and so on down the line. His family has always lived in the Roxbury/Dorchester area, he acknowledged that it's a rough area now, but he said when his family first lived there (you know, great grandparents era) the neighborhood was all Jewish (you know before they all got rich and moved to Brookline and Newton ;)). His family is African American, but he was quick to point out that they were never racist, if you're nice people, you're nice people and we want you around!
He told me the story of his grandmother who owned her own beauty shop. She used to set all the black women's hair and he went on to describe how particular they are about their hair. He said at one point his grandmother went out on a cigarette break and was smoking with her hand on her hip (he demonstrated and the attitude he had was soo funny) and she noticed this white guy going around knocking on doors shaking hands. He looked totally out of place and she thought it was amusing. Her break was over though so she went back to setting hair. Awhile later, this little white man walks into her shop and asks if she's the owner, she puts her hand on her hip and says yes, giving him a look that says whaddya want? He says, Hi, I am Jack Kennedy and I wanted to introduce myself. . . . D said, she was in love from that moment on. She thought he was the greatest president and in 1963 she truly mourned. I thought it was such a cool story!
2. Another guy, we'll call him first since he told me his name was the name of the first non-Jew to become a Christian, late in the evening as we were on the verge of going in came up to me and also told me a cool story. First he showed me a beautiful red leather Bible with gilt edges he had. He said defensively, "you know all homeless people aren't crazy!" I laughed and said, "I am aware, thank you." This seemed to appease him because then he asked me to sign his Bible. I said "you want me to sign your bible?" I asked, sounding totally confused and probably a little dim. He said "yeah, what's your favorite verse? Sign by your favorite verse."
My initial thought was how much I love Isaiah 40:8 "The grass withers and the flowers fade but the word of the Lord stands forever." growing up that was always my favorite verse. The firmness, the consistency, the strength. In the past couple of years though, I have really been taught about how everything belongs to God and how in the face of loss we're called to say "May the name of the Lord be Praised" I also have had the song Blessed Be Your Name stuck in my head for two days so I chose to sign next to Job's response to all of his loss in Job 1:20-22 The man asked me where I was signing and I told him and he started quoting it and we discussed it for a bit.
Conversation diverged slightly and First told me he was Roman Catholic and he talked about Cardinal Sean O'Malley (who it turns out has his own blog which makes me think he's even cooler :)). While he was talking about him, he said he first met Sean (as he called him) when he was a bishop. He said that since that initial meeting, the Bishop remembered his name. First also said that when his sister died Sean sent his family a note and they emailed First the content and asked him how the hell he knew a bishop!
The coolest part of the conversation was when First told me that even though he's now a cardinal, he still continues to visit Pine Street Inn (one of the largest homeless shelters Boston). First had nothing but good things to say about Cardinal Sean O'Malley, including the fact that he (First) had had a vision that the Cardinal will one day be Pope (it won't happen till the third vote). So we'll see about that. I felt bad, we were going in and First so obviously wanted to continue talking (and he was very interesting). Hopefully, he'll be back next week.
3. The other conversation I had last night (actually in the middle, so this is organized topically, not chronologically) was with a couple of Russian guys, one was from 800 km outside of Moscow, and the other was from Vladivostok (I told him I'd been to Magadan once). They asked us how much the food/drinks cost and were surprised/confused when we said they were free. I told them we were with the church and that we just came out on Thursdays to hang out etc. They told me that the church in Russia doesn't do that at all. That the Russian Orthodox church might go out in the street, but they never handed out food or clothes. They said they did have people that handed stuff out but it wasn't food, they were Hare Krishnas (it was actually amusing, it took some prompting/pantomime, but we got out that they wear orange robes, and have shaved heads and pony tails).
During our conversation I also trotted out some of my Russian words (you know like a little kid). I said hi, and ice cream and beer and then I remembered how to say I like so I said I like ice cream and I like beer and then I remembered onions, so I trotted out that line and then they looked at me like I was from another planet.
The one with slightly more English asked me to say it again, really trying to understand me. Then he had an aha moment and he said, you mean lewk, not luke and he turned to the other guy spoke some Russian that included lewk and luke and said onion and the other guy laughed and nodded. I said ok, and tried it again. I don't think I still quite got the distinction. But the guy with more English was kind enough to tell me I had just told them that I liked manhole covers, and I suppose I do, in the same sense that my mother half asleep and praying with us girls once thanked God for car doors because they keep people safe. I like manhole covers because they limit the number of people falling down sewer holes, but I like onions (caramelized especially) much better (or at least more regularly).
I had such a good night last night!
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