Okay so you remmeber how like 3 weeks ago i read an article featuring a writer named Anne Lamott, and I was all excited, and it sounded like I wanted to blog long enough to wrap my pontiffications around the planet five times? Well the urge is still in me; its just that i have tons of to the shit to do; and I have since come into what can be called a 'social life.' Yep ya boy's heart strings have been tugged by another. It's hard to sort out my emotions, and

Re-Kindle

So I was reading Time Magazine’s 10 Questions; it featured a writer named Anne Lamott. Apparently she writes Christian books on parenting and such. Of all the people I have seen in that feature; I find her to be the most intriguing. Why I am not sure but deep down inside I know she speaks to the ‘Jesus Freak’ within. That kid I became or met some 13 odd years ago. He loved the iconography of the Christ, and the cross. He read the New Testament to his Campers in the summertime at Camp Ladore. He spoke to the creator of the universe in small whispers in his bunk at camp; and he cried silently at the end of the Jesus Walk every night. He used to have quiet times and write in his journal, and a monumental sense of wonder. I have not seen this guy in quite a long time; in fact I’d go as far as to say that I may have been avoiding him for quite sometime. I’ve gotten a lot more of what the kids call ‘swagger' since the last time we both sat in the same skin. I may have left him in a cold puddle, to die in Fort Leonard Wood, MO.

As it stands at the moment I haven’t even goggled this Anne Lamott, but if she is the face of Christ in 2012 I am sorry I left. Now some of you may be asking yourself, 'how did I complete an entire internship at a church i downtown Philadelphia, if I have had such a disconnect from the body of Christ? To respond to that obvious response Broad Street Ministry to me is far more than a church; no that's precisely what it is to me. It's a community of good people doing good things for those who need them. I've examined those whom I worked close with over there at BSM, and I can see their hearts are pure, and their mission is noble. They accomplish the commission left by Christ on the Pentacaust to his disciples. and they mimic the deeds of pioneers of the modern church like St. Paul, Stephen, the Apostle Thomas, Mary Magdalene, and the Holy Mother. There is where I learned to nourish my soul again, I just wish I could go there as often as I want so that I could do the same thing on a weekly basis. i was almost inspired to enter the seminary while I was there but I am afraid of what it would do to me; that I would lose myself, for the better or worse the idea still frightens me. But perhaps I would wake up with more of a purpose. This Anne Lamont woman says she converted to Christianity at 31 years old. I am 32, and I'll be 33 in less than 8 weeks. If you believed in that kind of thing; some would say that this may be a real special year for me :-).

In the book of the book of Job  God the creator of the universe, and all of the worlds is presented with a wager to remove the hedges from around Job, and that he [Job] would surely curse him [the Lord]. Job is put through a series of tests, and as predicted in the text he did not curse the name of the creator once. His friends told him he should because he lost all he had, and his entire family had perished from one ailment or another. He lost his entire herd of livestock (which was equivalent to money in his culture), he had basically lost all he had; but through it all he remained faithful. If you don’t know how it ends Job got his shit back ten fold, and when he had a moment to breath he asked the creator why was all of that necessary, He basically responded that he’d created the Universe, and all of the worlds, and that he really didn't have to explain himself to his creation. Now this isn't the gentle deity that I learned about in Sunday School through the voice of Jesus in Parables and sang songs about with campers at campfires. But I do think this vista of the universe is needed. To help keep things in perspective; and so that one can appreciate warmer seasons when they come over the horizon.

I am not sure who this Ms. Lamott is but she has rekindled something in me that I am not sure that I can turn off now. But to be honest I have to give due credit to other writers theater in my life that have been encouraging me to “just write.” and I still don’t quite get that advice, such simple words from very two very profound women. My greatest hope is that this is the beginning of a regular affair  and  I hope that I a not talking to thin air, and that someone out there can actually read this, and take something from or contribute to it. And if you are one of my 'evangelical' friends I hope that I do not offend you at all; my only hope to enlighten you, at least from my end of the universe; it's all I can see from here. But I am open to input, and takes on the subject or ideas I discuss here. And just so you know this is the closest you all will get to reading my personal journals. For the record I am also a 'seeker' with a jewel in his breast pocket. So where ever you are Anne Lamott, thank you for your light, and from me to you Love, Peace, and Light.

Glass Elevator

 

So I have made no secret about my admiration for eastern religions, and in a exchange with what amounts to be a total stranger to me at this point I quite frankly told them my reasons for choosing one faith community over another. The following texts protects the names of the faith communities involved for better or worse (regardless of the choices I make in the future with respect to faith communities I choose in the future)

i dont understand what do you mean by what am i interested in? are we talking about as far as service.......the degree to which a church serves the greater community around it....cause that was christ's true mission on earth: service....not that [unspecified faith community]  doesnt do that they do....i just didnt get the vibe is all i am sure if i go back it'll be diffrent. the curch i usually go to is in philly and the expiernces i have there are hard to come by in modern christiandom....i always look to shed my human layers so i can reveal myself to the creator...that just didnt happen for me at [unspecified faith community] .

In the end there I didnt intend on saying that much about what it was I was trying to say but I did. I feel like I went over; but it felt right so I let it flow through my fingers :) And if the hands are conduits of the heart then I guess I did well. Now back to this idea of man revealing himself to the creator, to in turn see and be seen. There is a Hindu theological term for this  I learned from a religion professor at IUP back when I was in college; it's called puja. 

Wikipedia defines puja as making an offering of gift to the likeness of a practitioners chosen deity, but this is not the definition I recall from my time in the classroom so long ago. But what I do recall is Dr. Mlecko defining  it as "observing god, and being observed by god." Pretty comprehensive definition wouldn't you say? So the link attached to the above is a better definition than what Wikipedia has to offer.

I participated in a ritual something like this when I went to Philadelphia during Holy Week; at the church I specified in the above email. The service was in observance/celebration of Holy Thursday; the night Jesus shared the Last Supper with his disciples. Having been raised Baptist I had never been to one of these, nor had I heard of it. so the sermon was good, brief and to the point but it was the ritual that tugged my heart. I received communion, and had my hands (in lieu of feet, it's faster and more sanitary) ritually washed by the clergy of the church. 

I guess the point I am trying to make is the places we place ourselves, can make us more or less open to what the ethers have to tell us; or what we have to tell the creator. i think sometimes the things we hear coming from the pulpit serves as an asset or a detriment to our proximity to the divine on the holiest day of the week. I know for me when I hear certain buzz words or phrases I am totally taken out of orbit with the divine, and back on this terrestrial plane with humans. To me places of worship should be ethereal elevators to the heavens to meet the creator, so we can share our joys and sorrows; and thank the creator for the opportunity to frolic in his creation. Like the ladders that Jacob saw angels descending and ascending, or the creature that Mohammad rode on his Night Journey to the Holy Land church should be just as exhilarating.

I wrestle with elements of the 'human condition' that I cannot grasp all the time, this isn't what drives me to church; cause Lord knows I have taken my fair share of extended leaves from the presence of the Almighty. But when I am in front of the creator I usually make it a point to shed my skin in the presence of God. I am not quite sure what happens in these moments. I will keep what I remember of these exchanges sacred, this is why I have chosen one faith community over another.    

There's No Place Like Home

Oh all the places I'd like to go on this earth in my lifetime (before i go to my TRUE home) from the majestic Wats of southeast Asia to the vistas on the northwest  of these United States there is not place I'd rather be than the Streets of Philadelphia. I love home and everything about it. I love to see my hometown grow and evolve from the place it used to be when I was a child to the place it has become in the 21st century.  A stroll through Rittenhouse park is a glimpse of heaven, and nothing I have seen to date quite compares; in the way of ordinary city folks fellowshiping together in a common city place. Ahh and the heart of West Philadelphia; what more can a man ask for; I don't think that place can ever get too hood for me. Muslim brothas pushing their intrusive fragrances on every other street corner; and the smell of black and milds in teh air. It's no paradise but it's familiar to me. The kind of familar honeybees must feel when they return to the hive to drop off what they have collected from the fields and medows. Damn I love home. Marveling at the West Philly's fresh new back drop forces flashbacks of the 90s in my mind's eye. I'll miss you when I leave, and come back when I am good and ready.   Being a wall flower in that mosaic is more than I can ask for. Flying S's whizzing past my head, and the aroma of street vendors cooking up their urban edibles for metropolitan on teh go is what I miss the most when I am in my new home on the other side of the state. While a slower paced; and a more amiable crowd I do miss the fire that comes from the folks here in Philly. It even rolls off the tongue beutifully: Philly.

My real purpose in coming home this week was really to get back in touch with my heart; that being my nuclear family and my church family whom I love dearly. In their own ways they help me put things in perspective. All the time spent alone, or more properly 'away' i lose focus and call out of orbit from my heart; or maybe better put my true center. The transition to Pittsburgh for me was more of a way for me to expand myself. and as we all know growing isn't always the most painless experience in the world. Evolution is even more excruciating than growth. All things considered I am glad to have had the chance to be back, and I look forward to returning to the steel city in a few hours. Go Flyers!

Mr. Brown Chills in Washington

The images of this city never cease to amaze me, and what they do to me are even more profound than me. A city whose surface function is to be the legislative and distractive mechanics of this beautiful society that we live in boosts an amazing array of cultural beauty. I love just sitting on the bus being a fly on the wall able to witness the exchanges between my fellow bus riders. It’s good to know that even in a city like Washington; living in the financial strenuous times like we are now people still have faith in God. It really makes my heart soar. It also gives me the strength to go on. As some of you may know Washington is a city that I used to reside in; but and alloy of timing and maturity made it impossible for me to live here. I am not sure if I could ever call a place like this home for a myriad of reasons. But I have a handful of loved ones here that I wouldn't trade for the world, and they make this sometimes cols city as warm a hand-woven quilt on an autumn day.

But I am addressing you, on this place because of the images, I haven’t even been here an entire 24 hours and already I have been touched by what I have seen. The first of these is a advert on the metro for the Humanist; it’s a magazine that publishes on a bi-monthly basis. I used to read it in the library all the time when I was living in Philadelphia. Most of the articles take a very secular human stance on most issues, they report on; mind you they report on a humanist not merely human stance. Thus they yield to the higher angels of human existence rather than the lower demons of human nature. But it’s hard to gather that if you just take the advert on the image and words alone. I have made no secret of my allegiance to the almighty on here, but I have also made no secret of my plurality, regardless of the close-mindedness of some of my brothers and sisters out there who’ve already condemned ‘non-believers’ to hell. But to be honest to deny yourself or your being of being open to some omniscient being is counter intuitive to human existence, but further from what I have read of the humanist it’s readers are usually open to love of nature and communal brotherhood of some kind. Which at the end of the day what most, if not all sacred texts are getting at, at least on a human to human level.

Juxtaposed on the other end is what may send others screaming to something other than a ‘God’ this is an image I saw not two hours after the above in a family member’s neighborhood. Images like these frighten me for a number of reasons. The most ranking is that it scares people into a relationship with a being that doesn’t relate to his children that way anymore. If I were a 1st century Jew I suppose this would scare the crap out of me (even if they don’t believe in the traditional ‘Satan’ that we do). It’s also very immature on the part of the clergy; it’s as if they are teasing the ‘unsaved’ by waving an effigies of  the living Christ in their face. In the NT St. Peter tells the readers of his epistle to live such good lives that even if they accuse you of doing wrong they see the good you do. Actions brothers and sisters speaks volumes more than words ever could. But our words can cut as deep as the sharpest blade; turning one’s heart cold as ice. The vibrations of our songs can pierce the sensitive ear drums of those who need it most. Regardless of intention we can water from the mouth of Hagar’s crying child. So it is my suggestion that we (you/they) stop spooking the Almighty’s starving children, with their blurred view of  the gospel.

The Hearts of Men

Okay so I read about as much of the grand jury report as I my belly could bear; having read the contents, my position remains the same. The base of my case remains’ with victim #2 and the incident the occurred with graduate coach Schultz who walked in on a child being raped. From a legal stand point the fact that he walked out on a child being raped could imply he was implicit, or that he was protecting Sandusky. So Schultz calls daddy and he’s told to ‘come home.’ and From there Paterno is informed, and they take Sandusky’s keys; after an eyewitness account! So Paterno tell his people that one of his grads walks in on  Sandusky raping a 10 year-old child, and all he does is call his supervisor (and I find it very hard to believe that J. Paterno has a traditional supervisor. as in he really answers to anyone).


It really looks to me like a group of men (if I can call them that) were working very hard to protect a dynasty, and another man’s job because of his contribution to that dynasty. Paterno is a coward he shirked when his better judgment should’ve been in the driver’s seat. He appealed to his lower demons, and ignored his higher angels. It is my belief that he and the other gentleman Schultz should hang from the gallows with that Sandusky fellow. No he did not ’do the deed’ as a friend of mine commented but his crime of silence was of the same spirit as his darker codefendant. It’s very cut and dry to me; when you live in a culture where men are allowed to act like children for as long as society will let them things like this happen. I think our Jewish brothers and sisters had it right ushering their young people into adulthood via Bar-Mitzvahs and Bat-Mitzvahs.  Unfortunately we live in a culture where people have more of a romance affair with a game then they do for the condition or treatment of children in the institution that they revere so much, There is no reason PSU’s sports program should not be boycotted for the crimes they let scatter under their watch; that boils down to no more than human trafficking.

If these men had the same heart for children as the mission of Second-Mile was supposed to be then they would have resolved this over 10 years ago and this would have been a 2-7 minute sound bite, with Sandusky doing the perp-walk away from Beaver Stadium…but here we are.

Fresh Breath of Life

For the first time in my life in quite a long time things have seemed to find a rhythm, I guess once you escort all the chaos out of your life equilibrium and gravity seem to take their place. Regardless of all the craziness that I have confronted over the past 5 years, and countless cast of characters (some I kept others were asked to leave), one thing has remained constant; and I guess that one thing can be simply defined as my mission in life, and my hopes and dreams for a world that I have been thrust into. Suffice to say I am glad that I have reached this place, and hope that this trajectory continues. It is a trend that I can get used to; not to say that I am ill equipped for the valleys and canyons that I only expect in this journey called life. I can only hope that the best of the best are sitting shotgun with me when I meet those obstacles. So far in life I have not been deprived the company of saints, and it is my only wish that I accumulate even more upward thinking individuals.

In summation Pittsburgh has been really good to me, and I am thankful for this place, and the people in it. Especially my friends that have made my ride a lot smoother than it would have been otherwise, oh and I can not forget the kindness of strangers. It’s the heart of the stranger to the left or right that has made the adjustment to Pittsburgh that much easier. I also dig how “have a nice day” is a welcome way to see a stranger off; it’s a welcome change from places that I have lived in the past where abrasiveness is just a survival mechanism. But I am in Pittsburgh during football season five days before they play one of the region’s biggest rival. Still don’t quite get the STILLA CONTRY thing but perhaps I’ll be able to wrap my head around it before my time is up. Not promising that I’ll be a Steeler fan. Iggles ALL DAY SON!!!!




Love + Peace