Homeboys in Los Angeles

Today I danced in heaven. I visited Homeboy Industries in Los Angeles. I’ve been reading and re-reading, and re-reading Tattoos on the Heart, a book by Gregory Boyle, SJ. Getting a chance to see the places he talks about in his book, and maybe meeting him, was first on my priority list coming to L.A. The book is all about compassion, real gritty compassion for the most feared and despised people: gang members or “gangbangers” as they are called. By really loving them, and offering job training, standing with them in their woundedness, and never flinching from telling the truth with love and boundless humor and compassion, Fr. Greg has helped thousands of men and women leave the life of gangs and find true community, joy and happiness. It was only for an hour; but I was there with angels, and the redeemed. Everywhere people caught my eye, smiled, engaged in conversation. I was welcomed as I’ve never been welcomed in any church. An obvious visitor, they wanted to find out who I was, where I came from, was I getting the help I needed. They offered to help me in any way. “Joseph” took me and another visitor on a short tour of the Homeboy Industries facility. We saw where they take off tattoos; Joseph showed his forearm to prove the effectiveness of the laser treatments. We visited the bakery and saw where they made the cakes and breads the sold in their coffee shop and sell to other institutions in the city. We saw the classrooms, and studied the list of classes they offer. People gave us spontaneous testimonies about the classes, the impact on their lives. We walked through the counseling areas, peered into the development office, the Executive director’s office: every office except the counseling offices has a glass wall, so you can see everybody. Talk about transparency. I waited outside Greg Boyle’s office hoping for an impromptu encounter. But the man was swamped. First it was a trio of ladies in tweeds and pearls who were there on some kind of business; I guessed foundations or media folks. As they walked out, I started to edge forward but he was engulfed in a bear hug by a young man (covered with tattoos), maybe half a dozen young men crowded around and went into his office. Greg gave one of them a credit card and car keys out of his pocket. It astounded me, and nearly brought me to tears. By this time there was a long line waiting to get in so I went shopping instead of bothering Greg. I was pawing through stacks of t-shirts, but could only find 2XL. Finally a young man said “Hey man, watcha lookin’ for?” I said I wanted a simple large. These were in a cupboard behind him, and he offered me a choice from half dozen. I chose one that had the Homeboy logo and motto “Jobs Not Jails.” Then I visited the Homegirls Café, staffed by women just out of prison I’d been told by Joseph. The young woman at the counter gave me the widest smile and most enthusiastic welcome. When I ordered a chocolate cookie, she warned me: “It’s VEGAN!” But I insisted (it was delicious). So was the gargantuan cappuccino—total bill was $4.95. Starbucks has real competition.

The other patrons of the café, maybe Homeboy employees or hopefuls, smiled at me, nodded in a friendly way. I watched a young man help his tiny son get a scooter up and going. This is what love does. It restores people to full humanity. I found myself thinking the energy of the place must be a bit like the crowds around Jesus. Healing was in the air. They had stories to tell, joy to share. Hope brimmed out everywhere. Walking out of there I felt I’d just been to one of those “thin” places they talk about in Celtic spirituality, places where heaven and earth meet. But it wasn’t the building, it was the people. All of them, all of us are the temples of the Spirit. This I think is the message of the Easter Season: heaven and earth meet in Jesus Christ. We are baptized into Christ, heaven and earth meets in us. Whenever I encounter something as lovely and real as this I feel elated and deeply grateful. I learned a lot from my visit. Perhaps better, I was reminded of a lot, and challenged to love and keep on loving, not counting the cost. Cynicism, boredom, indifference, harboring grudges, these things can have no place if I really want to be part of making God’s kingdom known and experienced in the world. Standing with the outcasts, loving them like Jesus: loving them like Fr. Greg and now the whole staff of Homeboys, there is no place I’d rather be. Its home! And there’s no place like home.

Brisbane, Australia

I drove up from Stroud with Brothers Bruce-Paul and Christopher John about 10 days ago. We took a scenic route through New England--a mind bender for me as I am so familiar with "the other" New England in USA. I wonder if there are even more "New" Englands? The common denominator seems to be autumnal foliage. And the trees were flaming red and yellow on both sides of the road. Of course most of these have been planted, as eucalyptus and other native foliage doesn't turn, as I understand it. When we got to Brisbane I just had time to wash and then preached at the Saturday evening Eucharist at St. Philip's, Annerley, the brothers' parish. It is fun to be back here, and I enjoyed preaching. I had a slight mishap as I stood up to preach, forgetting to read the Gospel first. I scolded them: "Sit down!" at which Bruce-Paul called out: "Read the Gospel first!" Oops. Fortunately we all laughed, and a good mood was established. The big event here for the brothers was their triennial Chapter at which every brother in the province is present. The Archbishop of Perth, Roger Herft, facilitated the meetings brilliantly--and I am not just saying that. It was a grace-filled event as we worked our way through a big agenda--not least was electing a new Minister Provincial, and Guardian for the Brisbane Friary. Blessings on Christopher John as Minister Provincial and James Andrew as the new Guardian! And thanks and blessings on Alfred BoonKong and Donald Campbell as they finish their terms. With the big doings completed, the rest of my time in Brisbane is on a decidedly lower key. Back to the flower beds, pulling weeds. Jogging in the parks. Brother Simone swims at the University so I have gone along for that. We spent ANZAC Day (April 25) both praying for those who gave their lives in war (especially WWI, which the Day commemorates) and dedicating our lives and ministries as Franciscans to the END of war, and a happy visit to the Queensland Art Gallery.

Easter Mysteries

I spent a really happy time in New Zealand, and then on March 28 I came across to Australia, and have been staying at the Hermitage of St. Bernardine. I remember being a bit shocked by old Bernardine when I was in Italy and we went to where he preached. He was the instigator of the “Bonfire of the Vanities” encouraging people to burn all wigs, and other fripperies. A bit fearsome, I remember thinking.

I’ve been trying to live the simple life here at the hermitage named in his honor: cutting up windfallen trees, washing windows, preaching on good Friday and sharing the rounds of daily life with the brothers.

I just heard that a dear old friend died on Easter Day back in Smithtown, NY. I’ve known Bob Teudesman since I became a friar, he was living with us at Little Portion in 1989. About 7 years ago I had to help organize Bob’s move to a nursing home and close up his apartment. I really loved him. Bob loved good jokes and was generally full of good humor. He was incredibly faithful to his friends, and was a stalwart member of the Third Order of the Society of St. Francis for a long time.

Easter Day: what a good day to move on along the journey. Even though his passing brought a catch to my throat, I know he is so happy the “battle is o’er, the strife is done.” It was good we had a chance to see each other before I left New York in early February. There were moments when we were talking when I recognized the connection between us was still strong; of course his mind wandered from time to time too. But for years and years he celebrated every holiday with us, and always remembered my birthday. May you rest in peace, Bob Teudesman, and rise in glory.

Our celebration of Easter was terrific. A tiny cluster of us gathered around a flaming wok (outside not on the stove) and blessed the new fire, then we went into the friary refectory to hear the scripture readings--splitting attention between the candle wax dripping on my hand and the extremely long readings. Finally it was time to renew our Baptismal vows: a huge stone jar had been pre-filled out on the porch. The rubric called for the congregation to be "splashed" and so we were: liberally, grace abounded. Damp but happy we made our way to the chapel for the Eucharist, alleluias competing with the cuckaburras singing among the eucalyptus trees. After Mass: breakfast then back to bed for a couple hours!

Solidarity with Postulants

This is a picture of eight young men becoming postulants in the Province of the Solomon Islands March 1, just before Compline at the Chapel at Hautambu.

A couple of weeks ago, on the day before they were to become postulants, I was asked two questions:

What is a postulant?
And
Why do we wear brown?

The first question was from a delegation of four who worked up their courage to come see me at my hut, the second was from a young man who missed out wearing tht white cassock alb because we didn't have enough and he had to wear a brown tunic but without the rope or hood.

Explaining to my nervous delegation, I said the term "postulant" is related to the word "postulate," but none of them had ever heard that word before. Then I thought of Rilke's Letters to a Young Poet in which he advises him to "live the questions" but I didn't want to get into Rilke with them either. Postulants, I said, is a name for people who are asking the question: "What is God's will for me?" When you become a postulant you are asked a question: What do you seek? And the answer is God's will for me.

I also said I still wondered about it--what is God's will for me. It's a huge question, and although I feel I have answered some of the basic pieces of it, I still wonder. I am confident God's will for me is that I am a Christian, a priest and a friar. II enjoy my ministry and count it as God's will for me too. But there is the question of my daily choices, some of which can have far-reaching implications. What is God's will for me as a friar and a priest in the future?

Ogbviously it is not something I can answer til I get there, and the "future" is an ever-receding horizon, in one sense. But then I know one rounds a corner and life's choices seem stark and well defined. I felt very close to these men as they shrugged into their new clothes and said with utter seriousness: "I seek God and his will for me." In a way, I suspect each of us watching this eventprayed they would find a home with us, discover God's will in the working out of innumerable situations and relationships, in times of prayer and reflection. I hope without too many tears.

The "brown" question has to do with Francis and his desire to be humble and ordinary like the sparrows, to wear the color of humility. Again I had to go to Latin and tell them about brown the color of earth, which is called humus, which is related to humility. It like Ash Wednesday all year long when we are reminded we are but dust. But this is something that liberates us, it isn't a sad thing. We are from the earth, the source of our life is God, just as it is the source of all life on earth.

Watching new men come to test our vocation, old questions come back.

Lenten Penance

In the Solomon Islands there is a custom of observing Lent by performing "penance" together. It means an hour of hard work, usually with a machete in the hot sun, working silently.

I end up gasping.

And desperately sorry for all my sins.

Saturday I was whacking away and got a huge blister on my hand, and though it hurt I was glad it wasn't a nail wound or a spear hole, just trying to keep it all in perspective.

They also serve plain rice at least twice a week during Lent.

But the joy of it all is the working together, eating together, praying together. As a community we move towards Easter

Packing again

Only a few more days here at Little Portion before I get back on a plane and fly 24 hours to Honiara, Solomon Islands. I will cross the date line and completely miss Feb 14. No Valentines for me!!

What a great time I have had here. It has been absorbing, healing, fun. Mostly I have done projects around the friary. I grew up in a family that loved to do projects, so when I get the chance that is what I do. It's been cleaning, raking, pruning, cooking. I won't enumerate every little thing.

High on the list of wonderful things though was a retreat the brothers from Little Portion took together at a Catholic retreat center on Ender's Island near Mystic Connecticut. Amazing scenery, great food, and lots of time to pray. I am very grateful for that time.

And I highly recommend going away for several days. It requires a ruthless streak--co-dependent no more! Just go and do it, there is never a perfect time, a hassle-free way of getting away, even for friars. But the house didn't burn down, everything was in good shape on our return.

I finished two books on the retreat: Ravished by Beauty by Belden C. Lane, a surprising book on the contributions of Reformed Spirituality to thinking about the environment. I LOVED the book, and made me re-think who the puritans were. The Bibilical approach to the natural world and caring for it was energizing.

The other book I read was "Lit" by Mary Karr. An engrossing story of her recovery. It made my cry and laugh out loud.

A Christmas Sermon

Tonight we celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ. It is extraordinary, when you think of it, to come out in the middle of the night to remember, celebrate this event and to dedicate ourselves to the religious ideal it proclaims: God is with us, particularly the 99% as we say today. “God is on the side of the poor,” the theologians point out with this Christmas Gospel. The loneliness, the sense of dispossession, of being caught in a way of life that deep down we feel is not sustainable: these are all contributory themes in the Gospel story we’ve just heard.

Perhaps the Gospel story is familiar to you; I am surprised when I meet people for whom it isn’t familiar—but there are more and more of them. I think that that is a precious opportunity. The challenge isn’t overcoming the overly familiar, but to help people hear it for the first time. Put yourself into the story. Did you by any chance read the New York Times Travel section last Sunday? In Barcelona the Christmas Nativity scenes always include the caganer, a figure relieving himself in the corner. The article says it is a reminder of our essential humanity or perhaps the absurdity of life even at the holiest moments. I’d never say it if I hadn’t read it in the New York Times. The point is that he is there. And by extension so are we—any one of us. Being part of God’s plans for humanity has nothing to do with appropriate behavior, or better, all that is human has a place with God. The embrace of Luke’s Gospel story of the Birth of Jesus gathers us all together around that manger. It is not about dressing up or conforming to somebody’s expectations, but to come as you are and encounter the beauty and love of God.

Who else is around that manger? Luke includes the shepherds. 2000 years ago these men were considered uncouth. They didn’t earn much money. They were always with the sheep—so they couldn’t go to church or temple. Rough men: but they are the first to hear the message of the angels.

Mary and Joseph had encountered this counter-intuitive holiness months before when the angel appeared with its life-changing message of God’s favor. What was the angel’s counsel to Mary, to Joseph, to anybody who reads the story? “Don’t be afraid,” the angel said: timely words of encouragement for them and for us. Fear debilitates, shuts you down, keeps you home when you are needed to show up and help out, play your part in God’s story, to speak the truth to power.

The powerful are also characters in this Gospel story— those rulers Luke mentions in the beginning—Emperor Augustus, Quirinius (and Herod, of course, though he doesn’t get a mention in tonight’s passage). These rulers represent the 1% who gives their names to the times, who control the movement of people and goods. They are important to this story mostly because of Jesus—another Name that is being announced, a name to challenge the power of the rulers, a name that would come to characterize all that is good, all that is opposed to the forces that diminish people, making them go get counted in a census so that they could be more fully taxed to pay for their own oppression; Jesus opposes all that shuts people down, tells them they are not “appropriate,” not ready to govern, that they have no good ideas.

The Jesus movement and the Occupy Wall Street Movement have some intriguing point of connection, and I like to play around with the rhetoric: I attended an event in New York City last weekend, so it is all fresh in my imagination. But Christmas is not a time to get riled up about partisan politics—or is it? The message the angels proclaimed was “Peace.” When we look that up we find “Shalom” lurking in the roots of the word, sentiments informing the proclamation that urges a holistic view of life—let there be an end to war—shalom. Let there be health and strength for all the people—shalom. Let the minds of the people be opened, let them turn their hearts to each other and God—shalom. May the words of Scripture, the holy Wisdom abide with them—shalom. All this and more is in the angels’ saying: “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors.

So it is, on the one hand, when the story we live in, the story we tell ourselves and the story we hear from Scripture and God all come together, we find this to be a huge affirmation. What a joy for any one of us to think: “I am doing God’s will.” On the other hand some wonder: how can this be? Perhaps their self-understanding, or the story they tell themselves, collides with the story God is telling them. “Who, me?” said Mary. When things collide it means we are being called to listen to God’s story, and I believe, turn our lives over to the care of God, trust the message we hear. Is fear your problem? Or do you think you are not important enough to change things? For 2000 years now God has been hammering away at this self-esteem issue. Christianity, or at least the Christian story, teaches that we all have a part to play, we all are capable of the greatest things imaginable—telling right from wrong, for instance. We are also all capable of living lives of beauty and productiveness. God is asking us to collaborate with him. Over and over God has taken initiatives towards us—sending prophets and teachers holding up a vision of what life with God could be like. But alas, as Jesus says later in his life, we stone the prophets, killing those who are sent. Finally God sent his Son to reach out arms and hands of love to all humanity. God is asking each and every one of us to work with him for the salvation of the world—meaning the forgiveness of sins, putting people in a right relationship with God and also healing the planet, restoring the beauty and integrity of creation. Don’t forget the animals were also there at that birth. “The cattle are lowing…” we sang earlier tonight. We are not to abandon the earth and its troubles, but to engage with the cosmos as God has, and continues to do so—head on, without fear, with love and compassion. God will work with whatever we have to offer. Nothing is unacceptable, no one is unimportant to the plan. Every little thing will be taken, broken open and multiplied for the joy and satisfaction of thousands more. So offer your gift, raise your voice and sing out about peace! Sing about justice! Join the happy throngs that have sprung up all over the globe and the faithful friends of Christ who have born his name in ages past.

This Christmas of 2011 is full of gifts we never imagined a year ago. Think of Tunisia, Libya, Egypt, and all the other places of the so-called Arab Spring. We’ve seen the end of war in Iraq. People you never thought would get the message about sobriety or the need to change their lives—they’ve got it! It’s not all neat and tidy—none of it. Change—social and personal change—is messy and people have been hurt. But people are re-shaping the way they live. Our society is showing signs of an emerging consciousness. I believe God is re-shaping the way we live. We have a huge opportunity to live large these days, collaborating with God, the God who is with us, sharing all that we are and all that we have.

Repeat after me:

Don’t be afraid.

Seek peace.

God is with us now and to the end of the ages.