On Saturday evening while H and I were preparing dinner, Colin's wife L called because she needed some help and Colin's phone was off. She had been walking to the grocery store, listening to her iPod, when she made eye contact with a man sitting on the curb at a busy intersection. He seemed to be speaking to her, so she removed her ear phones and realized that he was asking for help. He said that he was not feeling well, that he could not stand up, and that he needed to go to the hospital. He also related with shame that he had also suffered a bout of incontinence while there on the curb. To L he kept saying, "This has never happened before."
L did not know exactly what to do. Colin's phone was off, and L did not have a car to take him to the hospital. She called me to see if I was around to help. When she described the man I recognized that it was probably JJ. She asked the man his name and confirmed my guess. The first thing that went through my mind was, "Oh boy. This is not going to go smoothly." JJ is a local, but does not come to breakfast at the church. He often sits on the steps to the street at the back of the property and drinks. When he drinks he is prone to be verbally aggressive and belligerent.
I told L that I would drive up to see if I could help as soon as we finished dinner. I've learned that one of compromises that I must make when responding to the poor is that sitting down to dinner with my wife takes priority - if I am not to become homeless myself. I told L that I would be there in about twenty minutes and that there was no need for her to stay with JJ. Somehow this was miscommunicated and L waited with JJ until I got there (with Colin). In the meantime, since JJ was hungry L went into the grocery store and bought some hand sanitizer and some chicken. JJ proceeded to eat the chicken with his soiled hands. After eating he proceeded to apply hand sanitizer liberally to his arm and pants leg.
I went by Colin's place and picked him up. Neither of us had the good sense to bring towels which would have been handy both because it was raining and because of JJ's unfortunate accident. So when we pulled up to the intersection Colin got out to relieve L and I went over to the church to pick up something for JJ to dry off with and sit on. Colin, having once been an EMT thought to get some plastic gloves.
We walked over to JJ who was still sitting on the curb of the sidewalk, partially obscured by the fir tree growing out of the landscaped garden behind him. It was 6:30pm on Saturday. The intersection was very busy. People were walking and jogging by on the sidewalk.
The drizzling rain had soaked JJ's pants. Down his leg ran a ribbon of brown, soaking into his sock, and dripping onto the sidewalk, which had now taken a brownish hue in JJ's vicinity. His left hand was obviously covered with feces, but his right seemed relatively unsoiled. I shook his hand and reminded him of my name. There was a flicker of recognition in his eyes, but it was clear that he did not remember much.
He repeated several times that he was feeling bad and needed help. We said that we'd help him out. Colin told him we'd give him a ride to the hospital and asked if he could walk to the car. JJ said that he might be able to with some help. Colin started to put on the gloves. I looked over and tried to control myself when I realized that they were not latex medical gloves, but rather the plastic gloves that you see food service workers wearing. I wanted to ask "Are we taking him to the hospital or setting up a cafeteria line?" The gloves were also, it turns out, the wrong size. After watching Colin struggle with them for a few seconds, I noted that I was on JJ's right side and simply reached out to pull him (and maybe asked Mother Teresa to intercede for my health). I think Colin also gave up on the gloves, or maybe he finally got them to work. Regardless we escorted JJ to the car.
I spread some cloth on the seat for him and suggested that he could dry himself off with a pair of sweatpants that were on the backseat. Colin and I got in the car, rolled down the windows, and proceeded to weigh the options of which hospital was likely to be more friendly to JJ's case. We settled on the rich university hospital down the street. It proved to be a good choice.
We drove into the emergency room lot and I let Colin get out with JJ to escort him inside. I then went to park the car. While I was away with the car, Colin and JJ proceeded through security. At the ER entrance there is a metal detector and an x-ray scanner. Colin threw his wallet and keys in a plastic tray and walked through the metal detector. JJ was careful to remove everything from his pockets, doing so slowly. The security station is a small anteroom before entering the ER lobby. The small area was cramped with three people, and JJ's odor was becoming a fourth discernible presence. The guard was getting impatient. JJ was insistent that he had a penny in his pocket that he should remove before going through the detector; he just couldn't find it. The guard began to hold his breath. Finally JJ found the penny and tossed it in the tray.
The guard waved JJ through the detector and then promptly left the security station.
Colin and JJ had no trouble getting attention from the nurses. When I returned from parking the car JJ had already been admitted, and Colin was speaking with the nurse at the desk. When everything was done Colin asked if the nurse wanted a phone number in case the hospital wanted someone to pick JJ up later. The nurse looked up somewhat incredulously and said, "Sure." Colin hesitated, no doubt realizing that his phone battery was dead and so his phone number would be worthless. He turned to me, "Give her your phone number." Of course.
The next day the hospital called us because JJ was being released and he wanted a ride to the neighboring town. H and I had somewhere to be so, feeling much guilt, I dumped the task on Colin. The hospital had cleaned JJ but had put him back in his old clothes. So Colin went to get JJ some new clothes and let him change at the hospital before setting out in the car. The hospital had renewed a prescription for JJ to treat a seizure disorder. Apparently JJ had been carrying a prescription with him that he could never afford to fill. The hospital kindly paid for the first two weeks of the new prescription, and Colin took JJ to pick up the medicine.
In the car JJ told Colin that he'd been hit by a car while crossing a street in town and was in a coma in another hospital for a few weeks. He had just gotten out recently.
When they arrived at the spot for JJ to get out, he professed his undying gratitude to Colin and promised to call Colin every night. Colin said, "You won't, but that's okay. We'll see you soon."
Monday, March 30, 2009
Public service
Saturday, March 28, 2009
"Let the People Eat You Up"
"You must allow Jesus to make you bread to be eaten by all those you come in touch with. Let the people eat you up...We could maybe have adoration [of the Blessed Sacrament] everyday and so bring and weave our lives with the Bread of Life. No greater love not even God could give than in giving Himself as Bread of life - to be broken, to be eaten so that you & I may eat & live - may eat and so satisfy our hunger for love. - So He made Himself the Hungry One, the Thirsty One, the Naked One, the Homeless and kept on calling - I was hungry, naked, homeless. You did it to me. - The Bread of life and the Hungry One - but one love - only Jesus.
His humility is so wonderful. I can understand His majesty, His greatness because He is God - but His humility is beyond my understanding, because He makes Himself Bread of Life so that even a child as small as I can eat HIm and live.
Some days back - when I was giving Holy Communion to our Sisters in the Mother house, I suddenly realized I was holding God between my 2 fingers.
The greatness of the humility of God."
- Mother Teresa, excerpts from a letter to Fr. Michael van der Peet. Quoted in Mother Teresa: Come Be My Light, 282-3.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Scarcity and the Gift
Today’s post-prayer breakfast was a rather tense one, I’m afraid to say. Shortly after E and C sat down to eat, G walked in, handed C a broken watch, and began insisting that C make good on his promised provision of a tire. Whatever details initially surrounded this ostensibly pre-arranged deal are unknown to me, but C’s response to G’s “request” seemed to suggest that one or both parties had either misunderstood or shifted away from the original terms of the bargain. The mildly heated verbal exchange that ensued only escalated when G’s accusations of misconduct modified to include C’s apparently having recently burned the collection of plastic buckets our neighbors on “the hill” use for seats. C replied that his committing the buckets to the communal fire barrel was an emergency; there was no wood left and he and R were desperately cold that evening. G was decidedly unmoved, however, and went on to complain how C’s “emergency” resulted in the barrel’s vent holes having become clogged by the melted plastic, rendering the make-shift furnace unusable. (Of course, the altercation was significantly more colorful and verbally freighted than the above description, resulting in Colin’s and my closely observant but deeply uneasy silence.) The argument only came to a close (at least for the moment) when, after G threatened to “put a knife on [C’s] neck”, Colin jumped in boldly to pronounce, “We don’t talk like that here.” (Well done, by the way, Colin.) G later apologized to Colin but, needless to say, this was not the breakfast we were anticipating when we had earlier concluded Morning Prayer!
Moments before Colin’s timely interruption, however, and seconds after C had angrily stormed from the Parish Hall, G interestingly turned to Colin and I for support in pleading his case against C. Theretofore having sat in a quiet disquietude, now Colin and I were being enlisted to back up G and the “justice” of his cause. And herein lies the reason for my post. It struck me that, for the first time, I was being asked to give something of a strictly limited quantity that two different people both equally and obviously wanted. For even though C never attempted to recruit our assessment of the matter in his defense, it seems simply the nature of such disputes that one always naturally desires the security that comes from having amassed for oneself the majority opinion. Thus, while G explicitly made such an appeal and C did not, both men clearly desired (or would have so) our outside judicial endorsement. And, as I said above, this presented me with a startling and puzzling new dilemma. For most of the time when “the guys” make a request, whether for food or socks or what have you, we are generally in a position of having, or being able to quickly obtain, sufficient supply for the meeting of the present demand. In this case, however, we had only one “yay” or “nay” to give respectively, one vote on a ballot of two competing candidates, and both men sought to have it. Though we ended up choosing to refrain from offering a judgment, it forced me to realize how ill-prepared I was for dealing with such a moment. For if I only have one X and yet said X is begged simultaneously by friends A and B, how do I proceed (justly, charitably, and prudentially) in such a situation? What kind of politics is involved with such a scenario and what kind of power relations are in play? I suppose, on one level, this is a manifestation of the generally perceived (which is not to say false) problem of scarcity. But, on another level, there is an economics involved in which my having anything at all becomes morally problematic in the face of those mutually agonistic ones who have none. What are we to do in such situations? How do we adjudicate these predicaments? To simply refrain from giving appears a dubious way to proceed (though in the above situation I still think it was the wisest move immediately and consciously available) but how then do we negotiate the ostensive lack? And what does this say about our giving as isolated individuals to those who ask versus our giving through the channels of the Church and her infinitely endless resources? Or how does what we offer at St. Joe’s as Colin, JR, and Adam either differ from or embody the provisions made available in/through/by/with the Church local and universal, and how might our answer complicate or amend the politics and supposed existence of such scarcity? As is increasingly common with my posts here, I have no idea what proper answers to the above might look like. I simply pose the questions in hopes that whatever thoughts or discussion may result might leave us better prepared for the inevitable moment when we are confronted with this bothersome quandary again.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Breakfast
An entertaining and jovial hour at breakfast this morning. Things were a bit unusual since JR and Adam happened both to be absent the same day, and so Trevor and I started things off on our own.
But quickly the room was filled with six of the regulars, all with hearty appetites. I heated up what was left of the egg casserole from last week and quickly moved on to the rest of the lasagna which we had for this week. (I often feel bad when we have nothing but dinner food to give out for breakfast, but they liked it better than the eggs!)
The ensuing discussion centered on G's story that his uncle once tried to kill a rattle snake with a power saw and only barley missed getting struck. The table was packed full and when W came in too I heated up a second plate of food (one is usually enough). Finally G told us that ever since seeing that snake with his uncle he couldn't pick up a stick without thinking it was a snake. E, especially, thought this was hilarious and laughed over and over again for several minutes, petting Sammie intermittently. Soon E's laughter was funnier than G's story.
Then they started talking of preparing for the rain that's supposed to come for the next three days. Looks to be a cold rain too, if the north breeze this morning is any indication. I gave out a few large garbage bags that help keep the few possessions they have dry. I was sorry to be out of bus passes when a couple of them wanted to go to a place they knew of to get rain coats. Hopefully some day passes will come in today.
It was a sublime view indeed as, towards the end of the hour, I sat back from the group, all still gathered around, and noticed that our latest copy of the Catholic Worker was sitting on table in the midst of them. As things were winding down W picked it up and started reading one of the articles.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Pastoral Letter from the House of Bishops
Here's a link to the letter drafted by the bishops meeting in Hendersonville, NC this past weekend. It's pretty poor theology.
View the pastoral letter here.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Hauerwas on the Handicapped...and the Homeless
Stanley was recently on NPR talking about the "handicapped". Virtually everything he says can also be applied to the homeless.
http://wunc.org/tsot/archive/sot0127bc09.mp3/view
I'd be interested to hear what anyone thinks the similarities and differences are between the homeless and the handicapped.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
On Living Within the Questions
The last 24 hours at St. Joe’s have been particularly interesting ones for JR, Colin, and I; more on that below. In the meantime, however, I must say that having had the great privilege of being able to bring an out-of-town family member to Evening Prayer the last couple nights has unwittingly forced the return of my frequently forgotten sense of the incredibly oddity that is …well, whatever it is that we do at St. Joe’s. For given the general consistency of those participating in the Daily Office there, it is easy for me to go through each day with a relative sense of normalcy in terms of all that goes along with that practice and the location of its particular enactment. More specifically, I guess rarely having to explain ourselves and our relationship with our neighbors on “the hill”, allows for a certain unconscious experience of the day’s events paralleling something akin to a routine banality. I’ve simply been habituated into what doing the Daily Office at St. Joe’s means, and rarely think much about it, at least by way of explanation. The questions that would and did inevitably come from the above-mentioned family member’s recent exposure to that routine, however, left (and still leaves) me stricken with a sense of the utter strangeness that is our life there. Just what is it, after all, that we are doing, exactly?
To illustrate by way of example, last night’s conclusion of Evening Prayer involved our being graced with the opportunity of meeting R. What quickly became apparent from our interactions with R, however, was that he presented a textbook case of Schizophrenia of the Disorganized Type (sometimes referred to as “hebephrenia”). After a rather confusing and lengthy bit of conversation, JR and I convinced him to stay the night at St. Joe’s with the promise of breakfast and whatever continued assistance we might be able to provide in the morning. Now, having worked in the mental health field, I have a sense of what would traditionally be done to help folks with psychological conditions similar to R's, but given our promise of aid in the morning (and perhaps sinfully feeling a perceived lack in requisite resources), I had to ask myself about what it is that we, as church, are to do exactly for such a one?
Jumping forward a little, somehow or other it seems I have been so privileged as to be typecast among our neighbors on “the hill” as the go to guy when it comes to meeting their ongoing need for cigarettes. And under the tutelage of my more pious and faithful brothers, I’ve begun (though only begun) to better learn just what it might mean to follow Jesus’ instructions to “give to him who asks.” (Matt 5:42) At any rate, this evening replayed Concrete’s increasingly common (and certainly not undeserved) request for Marlboros for he and the guys. When observed by O and the above-mentioned family member in handing over the boxes of smokes, however, and later confronted by O on my “rationale” for so doing, again, I was taken aback at the ambiguity and utter strangeness that life at St. Joe’s entails. For how does one negotiate the fulfilling of a request that one knows will bring eventual physical disruption as well as the immediacy of the desired comfort? Just what exactly are we doing in buying cigarettes for these friends, after all?
Perhaps here, in our final paragraph, you might expect the attempt at profundity by way of some sort of concluding and salutary answer to the questions posed above. But I must confess that both in the case of R’s disorder (that term being meant Thomistically) and in that of Concrete’s communal cigarette requests, I have nothing of substantive value to offer. Indeed, I have virtually no idea how to respond to such queries (leaving little to assuage my family member of her puzzled concerns). I suppose various answers could be proposed but I strongly suspect that these might mutually contradict each other and, at any rate, fail to capture, let alone explicate, the oddity of it all in its fullness. I’ll leave the telling of the rest of our story with R to JR or Colin, but I guess all of the above is simply an expression of my newly discovered gratitude, both to the inciting family member (and O) for her questions and to our Savior, our neighbors on “the hill”, and my partners-in-crime for the opportunity of their being asked. These, it seems, are questions in which we are meant to dwell. And I’m thankful for the chance to have entered that space, strange and difficult though it is.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Chrysostom on Personal Safety
This is a re-posting of a nugget that is already in the long post below. Lest it be missed, because it is of such power, I am posting it here again. Savor it...
"Do not tell me then, that so and so hath done me grievous mischief, but just consider what Christ did near the Cross itself,wishing to amend by His kiss the traitor by whom He was on the point of being betrayed. And see with how much power to shame him. For He says, "Judas, betrayest thou the Son of Man with a kiss?" (ib. 48.) Who is there He would not have softened? who is there that this address would not have made yielding? What beast? what adamant? yet not that wretched man. Do not then say, that such an one murdered such an one, and that is why I turn aside from him. For even if he were upon the point of thrusting a sword down into thee, and to plunge his hand into thy neck itself, kiss this very right hand! since even Christ kissed that mouth which wrought His death! And therefore do not thou either hate, but bewail and pity him that plotteth against thee. For such an one deserveth pity at our hands, and tears. For we are the servants of Him Who kissed even the traitor (I will not leave off dwelling over that continually), and spoke words unto him more gentle than the kiss."
Friday, March 13, 2009
Chrysostom on the "Undeserving" Poor
Sometimes it gets hard to be with and especially to give to those whom we deem ungrateful and undeserving. Here's what Archbishop John thinks about the matter.
"Pursue hospitality." (Rom 12:14)
He does not say "do it", but "pursue it", so to instruct us not to
wait for those that shall ask it, and see when they
will come to us, but to run to them, and be given to finding [1545]
them.
Thus did Lot, thus Abraham. For he spent the whole day upon it, waiting
for this goodly prey, and when he saw it, leaped upon it, and ran to
meet them, and worshipped upon the ground, and said, "My Lord, if now I
have found favor in Thy sight, pass not away from Thy servant." (Gen.
xviii. 3.) Not as we do, if we happen to see a stranger or a poor man,
knitting our brows, and not deigning even to speak to them.
And if after thousands of entreaties we are softened, and bid the servant give
them a trifle, we think we have quite done our duty. But he did not so,
but assumed the fashion of a suppliant and a servant, though he did not
know who he was going to take under his roof. But we, who have clear
information that it is Christ Whom we take in, do not grow gentle even
for this. But he both beseeches, and entreats, and falls on his knees
to them, yet we insult those that come to us. And he indeed did all by
himself and his wife, whereas we do it not even by our attendants. But
if you have a mind to see the table that he set before them, there too
you will see great bounteousness, but the bounteousness came not from
excess of wealth, but of the riches of a ready will. Yet how many rich
persons were there not then? Still none did anything of the kind. How
many widows were there in Israel? Yet none showed hospitality to
Elijah. How many wealthy persons again were there not in Elisha's day?
But the Shunamite alone gathered in the fruits of hospitality; as did
Abraham also, [1546] whom beside his largeness and ready mind it is
just especially to admire, on this ground, that when he had no
knowledge who they were that had come, yet he so acted. 
Do not thou
then be curious either: since for Christ thou dost receive him. And if
thou art always so scrupulous, many a time wilt thou pass by a man of
esteem, and lose thy reward from him. And yet he that receiveth one
that is not of esteem, hath no fault found with him, but is even
rewarded. For "he that receiveth a prophet in the name of a prophet,
shall receive a prophet's reward." (Matt. x. 41.) But he who out of
this ill-timed scrupulousness passeth one that should be admired, shall
even suffer punishment. Do not then busy thyself with men's lives and
doings. For this is the very extreme of niggardliness, for one loaf to
be exact about a man's entire life. For if this person be a murderer,
if a robber, or what not, does he therefore seem to thee not to deserve
a loaf and a few pence? And yet thy Master causeth even the sun to rise
upon him! And dost thou judge him unworthy of food even for a day? I
will put another case to you besides. Now even if you were positively
certain that he were laden with countless iniquities, not even then
wouldest thou have an excuse for depriving him of this day's
sustenance. For thou art the servant of Him Who said, "Ye know not what
spirit ye are of." (Luke ix. 55.) Thou art servant to Him Who healed
those that stoned Him, or rather Who was crucified for them. And do not
tell me that he killed another, for even if he were going to kill thee
thyself, even then thou shouldest not neglect him when starving. For
thou art a disciple of Him Who desired the salvation even of them that
crucified Him Who said upon the Cross itself, "Father, forgive them,
for they know not what they do." (Luke xxiii. 34.) Thou art the servant
of Him Who healed him that smote Him, Who upon the Cross itself crowned
the man who had scorned Him. And what can equal this? For both the
robbers at first scorned Him. Still to one of these He opened Paradise.
[1547] And He bewails those who were upon the point of killing Him, and
is troubled and confounded at seeing the traitor, not because He was
going to be crucified, but because he was lost. He was troubled then as
having foreknowledge of the hanging, and the punishment after the
hanging. And though He knelt his wickedness, He bore with him [1548] to
the last hour, and thrust not away the traitor, but even kissed him.
Thy Master kisseth, and with His lips receiveth him who was on the very
point of shedding His precious Blood. And dost thou count the poor not
worthy even of a loaf, and reverencest not the Law which Christ laid
down? Now by this He shows that we ought not to turn aside, not only
from the poor, but not even from those that would lead us away to
death. Do not tell me then, that so and so hath done me grievous
mischief, but just consider what Christ did near the Cross itself,
wishing to amend by His kiss the traitor by whom He was on the point of
being betrayed. And see with how much power to shame him. For He says,
"Judas, betrayest thou the Son of Man with a kiss?" (ib. 48.) Who is
there He would not have softened? who is there that this address would
not have made yielding? What beast? what adamant? yet not that wretched
man. Do not then say, that such an one murdered such an one, and that
is why I turn aside from him. For even if he were upon the point of
thrusting a sword down into thee, and to plunge his hand into thy neck
itself, kiss this very right hand! since even Christ kissed that mouth
which wrought His death! And therefore do not thou either hate, but
bewail and pity him that plotteth against thee. For such an one
deserveth pity at our hands, and tears. For we are the servants of Him
Who kissed even the traitor (I will not leave off dwelling over that
continually), and spoke words unto him more gentle than the kiss. For
He did not even say, O thou foul and villanous traitor, is this the
sort of recompense thou returnest us for so great a benefit? But in
what words? "Judas;" using his own name, which is more like a person
bemoaning, and recalling him, than one wroth at him. And he does not
say, thy Teacher, thy Master, and Benefactor, but, "the Son of Man."
For though He were neither Teacher nor Master, yet is it with One Who
is so gently, so unfeignedly affected towards thee, as even to kiss
thee at the time of betrayal, and that when a kiss too was the signal
for the betrayal; is it with Him that thou playest the traitor's part?
Blessed art Thou, O Lord! What lowliness of mind, what forbearance hast
Thou given us ensamples of! And to him He so behaved. But to those who
came with staves and swords to Him, was it not so too? What can be more
gentle than the words spoken to them? For when He had power to demolish
them all in an instant, He did nothing of the kind, but as
expostulating (entreptikhos), addressed them in the words, "Why, are ye
come out as against a thief with swords and staves?" (Matt. xxvi. 55.)
And having cast them down backwards (John xviii. 6), as they continued
insensible, He of His own accord gave Himself up next, and forbore
while He saw them putting manacles upon His holy hands, while He had
the power at once to confound all things, and overthrow them. But dost
thou even after this deal fiercely with the poor? And even were he
guilty of ten thousand sins, want and famine were enough to soften down
a soul ever so blunted. But thou standest brutalized, and imitating the
rage of lions. Yet they never taste of dead bodies. But thou, while
thou seest him a very corpse (tetaricheumenon lit. salter, or, a mummy)
for distresses, yet leapest upon him now that he is down, and tearest
his body by thine insults, and gatherest storm after storm, and makest
him as he is fleeing to the haven for refuge to split upon a rock, and
bringest a shipwreck about more distressing than those in the sea. And
how wilt thou say to God, Have mercy upon me, and ask of Him remission
of sins, when thou art insolent to one who hath done no sin, and
callest him to account for this hunger and great necessity, and
throwest all the brute beasts into the shade by thy cruelty. For they
indeed by the compulsion of their belly lay hold of the food needful
for them. But thou, when nothing either thrusts thee on or compels
thee, devourest thy brother, bitest, and tearest him, if not with thy
teeth, yet with words that bite more cuttingly. How then wilt thou
receive the sacred Host (prosphoran), when thou hast empurpled thy
tongue in human gore? how give the kiss of peace, with mouth gorged
with war? Nay, how enjoy every common nourishment, when thou art
gathering so much venom? Thou dost not relieve the poverty, why make it
even more grinding? thou dost not lift up him that is fallen, why throw
him down also? thou dost not remove despondency, why even increase it?
thou givest no money, why use insulting words besides? Hast thou not
heard what punishment they suffer that feed not the poor? to what
vengeance they are condemned? For He says, "Depart to the fire prepared
for the devil and his angels." (Matt. xxv. 41.) If then they that feed
not are so condemned, what punishment are they to suffer, who besides
not feeding, even insult? What punishment shall they undergo? what
hell? That we kindle not so great evils against ourselves, whiles we
have it in our power, let us correct this evil complaint also, and put
a bridle on the tongue. And let us be so far from insulting, as even to
invite them, both by words and actions, that by laying up much mercy
for ourselves, we may obtain the blessings promised us. Which God grant
that we may all attain unto by the grace and love towards man.
Pray for us, Brother John.
Monday, March 9, 2009
More Concrete Theology
When I ask Crete how he's doing, he often replies, "Gettin' killed. Ain't my stuff, but they killin' me for other folks stuff. Been gettin' killed all day for stuff that ain't even mine."
Yesterday evening's psalms (on the 30day cycle) included Psalm 44 which has the verse:
"Indeed for your sake we are killed all the day long; we are accounted as sheep for the slaughter"
We can hear those lines variously as the ramblings of a homeless man, as the prayer of the church, or (in another popular view of the psalms) as the lament of Christ...
But if we just read it through Matthew 25, we get all three.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
St. Chrysostom on Giving Alms
"He that showeth mercy, with cheerfulness." (Rom 12:8)
For it is not enough to show mercy, but it behooves us to
do it with a largeness and an ungrudging spirit, or
rather not with an ungrudging, but even with a cheerful and rejoicing
one, for not grudging does not amount to rejoicing. And this same
point, when he is writing to the Corinthians also, he insisted very
strongly upon. For to rouse them to such largeness he said, "He that
soweth sparingly shall reap also sparingly, and he which soweth
bountifully shall reap also bountifully. (2 Cor. ix. 6.) But to correct
their temper he added, "Not grudgingly or of necessity." (ib. 7.) For
both the shower of mercy ought to have, both ungrudgingness and
pleasure. And why dost thou bemoan thyself of giving alms? (Aristot.
Eth. N. ii. 3 and iv. 1.) Why dost thou grieve at showing mercy, and
lose the advantage of the good deed? For if thou grievest thou dost not
do mercy, but art cruel and inhuman. For if thou grievest, how shalt
thou be able to raise up him that is in sorrow? For it is much if he
suspects no ill, even, when thou art giving with joyfulness. For since
nothing seems to men such a disgrace as to be receiving from others,
unless by an exceedingly cheerful look thou removest the suspicion, and
showest that thou art receiving rather than giving, thou wilt even cast
down the receiver rather than raise him up. This is why he says, "He
that showeth mercy, with cheerfulness." For who that is receiving a
kingdom, is of sad countenance? Who that is receiving pardon for his
sins continueth of dejected look? Mind not then the expenditure of the
money; but the increase that comes of that expenditure. For if he that
soweth rejoiceth though sowing with uncertainty of return, much more
should he do so that farms the Heaven. For in this way, even though
thou give but little, thou wilt be giving much; even as how much soever
thou givest with a sad countenance, thou wilt have made thy much a
little. Thus the widow outweighed many talents by the two mites, for
her spirit was large. And how is it possible, it may be said, for one
that dwells with poverty in the extreme, and empties forth his all, to
do this with a ready mind? Ask the widow, and thou wilt hear the way,
and wilt know that it is not poverty [1536] that makes narrow
circumstances, but the temper of a man that effects both this and its
opposite. For it is possible even in poverty to be munificent
(megalopsuchon), and in riches to be niggardly. Hence in giving he
looks for simplicity, and in showing mercy for cheerfulness, and in
patronizing for diligence. For it is not with money only that he wishes
us to render every assistance to those in want, but both with words,
and deeds, and in person, and in every other way. And after mentioning
the chief kind of aiding (prostasian), that which lies in teaching,
namely, and that of exhorting (for this is a more necessary kind, in
that it nurtures the soul), he proceeds to that by way of money, and
all other means; then to show how these may be practised aright, he
bringeth in the mother of them, love.
(Homily 21 on Romans)
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Breakfast
MP and breakfast as usual. JR was absent looking into a post-doc opportunity he has at UNC. So at prayer were Adam, Trevor and I, among the usuals, and Emily, who is in the catechesis class, and Jimmy.
After prayer we all walked over to the parish hall and took the normal refrigerator items into the microwave: grits and sausage, coffee cake and Megan's pigs in blankets. I started a pot of coffee perking. (Only occasionally do people really drink the coffee but for some reason it makes me feel good to have that sound and smell around.)
Eddie came in after a while and grabbed some sox and bit to eat. Crete walked by the window as he is wont to do and I brought him out a plate of grits and his hot sauce. Jimmie told me he was looking "to get up out of North Carolina", but he wasn't exactly sure where he was going. He asked if I could help him get a Grey Hound ticket. I have to confess that I find Jimmy one of the most circumspect of our beggars, but I suppose that this makes it even more imperative that I give to him without any scruples.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
A Eucharistic Homily (Tangentially Related)
I don’t know about y’all, but yesterday it wasn’t long into the morning before I found myself painfully aware of how most of my days are unconsciously structured around a regular desire for food. Indeed, with the Ash Wednesday fast, I became increasingly aware of not only how important the intake of food is to the simple preservation and proper functioning of life, but how much our creaturely drive to live is tied up with a concurrent desire simply to eat. I suppose that at some basic animal level, the intensity and immediacy of our desire for the regular intake of food is bound up with this innate simultaneous desire to live and live richly (for as my wife’s spice rack so nicely illustrates, rarely are we satisfied merely to eat). In fact, hungry and newly conscious of this desire as I was, though it may just have been brain-starved delirium, I found myself momentarily transported to some distant Saturday afternoon in my youth where I first watched that 1968 musical remake of Charles Dickens’ classic novel Oliver Twist, Oliver! Resounding in my head and musically syncopated with the rumblings of my stomach were those melodious words Oliver and the young orphan boy’s sang at top volume:
“Food, glorious food!
What wouldn't we give for
That extra bit more -
That's all that we live for
Why should we be fated to
Do nothing but brood
On food,
Magical food,
Wonderful food,
Marvelous food,
Fabulous food”
Of course it is our human desire for food which stands in the background of our Gospel lesson for today. As Jesus prepares to teach in the synagogue in Capernaum, the people whom he had miraculously fed the previous day return, apparently seeking seconds, and having gone so far as to cross the Sea of Galilee in pursuit of this promising, albeit curious, meal ticket. They had been quite impressed with yesterday’s performance and presumably thought this prophet from Nazareth, this supplier of bread in abundance, might just be the answer to their socio-economic woes. Yet Jesus, both sensing their motives and aware of their deeper hunger responds, "Do not work for the food which perishes, but for the food which endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give to you, for on Him the Father, God, has set His seal."
Not sure this was the answer they had in mind, the people persist, asking Jesus to perform a sign mirroring Moses’ calling down manna from heaven in the wilderness. “Yeah, yeah, Jesus, food that endures to eternal life. But how about we talk this over after another one of your tasty Mosaic lunches?” …It’s startling to see just how much our natural cravings can blunt our sense of the truly important.
Jesus, however, not to be distracted, moves to remind the people that even the bread which Moses called down from heaven was given to those who, if they recalled, all eventually died nevertheless. For, hadn’t Moses said, “[God] humbled you and let you be hungry, and fed you with manna which you did not know, nor did your fathers know, that He might make you understand that man does not live by bread alone, but man lives by everything that proceeds out of the mouth of the LORD?” Stomachs growling, the people, it seems, are nonplussed.
Then, with unfathomable patience and love, Jesus counters their request for a meager and transitory meal with an even better offer; indeed, the greatest offer of all: a bread given from the Father in heaven that gives real life to the world. “I am the bread of life,” he says. “I am the living bread that came down out of heaven; if anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever; …the bread …which I will give for the life of the world is My flesh." Despite the shock on their faces he continues, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you have no life in yourselves. He who eats My flesh and drinks My blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. For My flesh is true food, and My blood is true drink. He who eats My flesh and drinks My blood abides in Me, and I in him. As the living Father sent Me, and I live because of the Father, so he who eats Me, he also will live because of Me. This is the bread which came down out of heaven; not as the fathers ate and died; he who eats this bread will live forever."
The story our Gospel writer tells is one which reminds us in Trinitarian fashion of our truest and deepest need, the real object of our creaturely hunger and desire. Beyond our various appetites for mere food or status or stuff, natural though they may be, Jesus makes clear that it is only our consumption of him, made present for us in the Eucharistic meal, wherein the satisfaction of our real hunger may be met; that feeding on Jesus’ flesh and blood made possible in our celebration of Eucharist, which fulfills our most basic of creaturely desires, the desire to live and live richly. Our Gospel lesson teaches us that it is Jesus for whom we truly crave, and that, by feeding on him in the bread and wine, our desire to live, our most basic creaturely hungers are satisfied. It is by feeding on Jesus in this meal, for example, that our hunger for relationship and community is most fully met, as Paul tells the Corinthians of how we are united to Jesus and each other thereby. It is in this meal that our longing for intimacy is fully realized, depicted in Revelation as the wedding feast celebrating our new union with the Lamb who was slain. It is in this meal, that our desire to live and live richly, indeed, eternally!, a desire made significantly manifest in our simple desire for daily food, wherein our longing for nourishment and life may be realized. Oh that we would hunger and seek after him, Christ made present in the Eucharistic meal, with the vigor in which we pursue for our daily meals! Oh that it was in reference to Eucharist that we found ourselves overwhelmed with song:
“Food, glorious food!
What wouldn't we give for
That extra bit more -
That's all that we live for
Wonderful food,
Marvelous food,
Fabulous food”
Amen.
Deuteronomy 8:2-3
Revelation 19:1-2a, 4-9
1 Corinthians 10:1-4, 16-17
1 Corinthians 11:23-29
John 6:47-58
Inequality and Society
The Economist magazine has a review of a book, released in January in Britain, that analyzes links between social health (e.g., crime) and inequality. Specifically they critique the notion that the desire for economic growth should trump the desire for wealth distribution. The book has only been released in Britain thusfar, but when it comes to the US, we'll offer a review.
The Spirit Level: Why More Equal Societies Almost Always Do Better (Hardcover)
by Richard Wilkinson (Author), Kate Pickett (Author)
