They are homeless because they came back from war to find their family had grown up and moved on without them.
They are homeless because they cam back from war and didn't trust themselves to stay with a fragile wife and delicate children.
They are homeless because they came back from war to find no jobs left for them
They are homeless because it is easier to be homeless than to be hit.
They are homeless because mommy's depression means she can't remember to pay the bills.
They are homeless because their house burned down.
They are homeless because people say, "We aren't helping them, they are homeless for a reason."
Today, while you are dressed in hundred dollar outfits and spending hours in the kitchen cooking a large family meal, Jesus is homeless. While you participate in a fertility ritual that predates Christianity because you're not smart enough to realize what eggs are and that if you want a Savior born in December then somebody better get pregnant, Jesus is homeless. While you are singing about how blessed and saved and righteous you are Jesus is homeless. Yes, today is totally about how great you are. Totally about how you just got a free ticket to heaven. Totally about how super duper awesome Jesus thinks you are.
Jesus is homeless. He is worn, weathered, dirty and alone. He is full of scars and scratches. He is homeless. He does not go to the temple and announce that he is back. He does not wave a flag and march through town. He simply wanders in the direction he feels his friends might be.
If you think that when Jesus returns he is going to have some sort of concert in your multi-million dollar religious complex with the basketball court and 3D movie theatre, Jesus is homeless. Homeless people don't hang out there. They generally aren't allowed to. If you think Jesus is coming back wearing pristine robes that match your Dolce and Gabbana pink Easter purse, Jesus is homeless. If you look back at Jesus' history, he has always been homeless.
Next Easter maybe for Jesus' sake, you could study a little. You might enter the church with some knowledge of Ostara and Ishtar. Maybe you could wear something a little less formal and more humble. Maybe you could be prepared to meet Jesus out on the street where he is wandering. Maybe you could even read his own words...John 18.36, "Jesus answered, My kingdom is not of this world: if my kingdom were of this world, then would my servants fight, that I should not be delivered to the Jews: but now is my kingdom not from hence." This scripture also frees the Jews form years of bigotry that followed by idiots that scream, "the Jews killed my Lord." Once again, good Christians who have never studied their Bibles.
Maybe next year you could check you lipgloss at the door. Maybe you could care that Jesus is homeless. Maybe you could show a little character and act like you know what he did and what he said. Rather than telling everybody how great your next life is going to be, why don't you do something of value in this one. Why do you not go meet the homeless man that is your Savior?
~ if you ever wonder why people don't go to your church or why people look down on religion, it has nothing to do with what you believe. No one calls you stupid because you believe in a Savior/G-d. All religions do. What people don't like is that you celebrate with pre Christian holidays and then scream about how they belong to YOU and only YOU. What they think you're wrong about is not your passion for your G-d but your hate for your fellow man. Jesus was a homeless Jewish man of Middle Eastern descent. You would call the cops on him today if you saw him in your neighborhood. It's the multi-million dollar religious arenas and the two thousand dollar suits that people are appalled by. In the world or of the world? It's the hypocrisy, children. Stop screaming about your persecution as Christians when you have brought it upon yourselves with such hypocrisy. ~
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Saturday, March 30, 2013
A Little Lipgloss to Brighten Your Sorrow.
And Jesus wept.
As anyone who is terminal does, there is bargaining. There is begging. There is hope for a reprieve. How can someone so young willingly roll over and be still while death stalks them? Most can't. Jesus didn't. There were prayers. There were tears. There were plans. There were friends.
Each year as I sat in Maundy Thursday service I would weep. The guilt and the fear were very real to me. Each year I wanted to stand up and say, "No, I can carry my own burden. I can be responsible." It wasn't until years later that I would learn that I actually did have to carry my own burden and take my consequences squarely on the jaw; but as someone still immature to the world Thursday broke me. What also broke me was that Jesus' friends fell asleep while he prayed. They were either resigned to the fact that he believed he would die or they thought he was wasting their time. We will never really know.
On Sunday morning I would walk into church to see an all out celebration and hear singing and chanting and people saying, "We won! He won the battle for us!" The battle. What battle? The battle over death they would say. I would reply with something along the lines of, "But he still died."
I was not being naïve. I was being honest. Have you ever sat with a cancer patient and watched the struggle. Yes, death would probably be easier, but damn, life means kids and books and TV shows. Living means a chance to do something different. What is death?
We have no idea what death is, but we know how people react to it. I call it the "clawing". Imagine a cat thrown into a bathtub. He digs his claws into the porcelain hoping, hoping, squeezing his little paws. He really doesn't want to go. I have a cat and he loves fish. He does not love fish enough to jump in the lake and get his own. I know that people are fascinated with what is on the other side of death, but very few willingly go simply because they know they can't come back and tell us. Once it's done, it's done. I have seen people clawing to stay here on earth just one more minute. Knowing your fate is different than accepting your fate.
Jesus wept.
What I want to know is, regardless if you believe him to be a real person or not, do you understand the emotion of Thursday? Not Easter, not Ostara, not the beauty of Ishtar, not the sun shiny happy eggs...do you understand the weeping? Do you understand (and I say this with respect, even if you believe it to be a story) that Jesus would never be human again and on some deep level that pained him. Look at his relationship to Lazarus. Jesus was full of mourning for his friend. Jesus felt real emotion. He lived a full life. He literally put his hands on people, not to heal but to feel.
So what pains me about Easter? The "get over it" Christian attitude. The attitude of people that believe that someone died for them yet they celebrate- all out party- on the Sunday after their best friend just died. "He has risen and we are blessed". My father never let me have a crucifix because he said as Christians we do not focus on the death. Well, duh. When my father was diagnosed with cancer he certainly focused on death. He prepared for it. He paid for it. He gathered his friends around. They mourned, they prayed, they stayed up all night. That's what real friends do. Today they still call, they still say they miss him. They know that death means 'a not returning'. To sit in Jesus' seat and know that you will not be returning. It is a great and holy narrative on what life should be: Friends, a last supper, a tear in the dark. And then repeat. Repeat it every single day until you are taken by death.
For Christians who have for centuries waited with baited breath for Jesus to return so that they can go to heaven and be "happy", I ask you this: What if he doesn't return in your lifetime? Are you staring at the sky each day waiting for him so you can "get over" this life and move on to something better? Or are you mindful of what he gave up for you? Are you mindful and respectful of what the Bible tells you? Or are you blessed and chosen and allowed to party and then sleep while Jesus begs his Father for a reprieve?
How you view death is important. How you view someone else's sacrifice is what makes you either a friend or a worthless disciple.
As anyone who is terminal does, there is bargaining. There is begging. There is hope for a reprieve. How can someone so young willingly roll over and be still while death stalks them? Most can't. Jesus didn't. There were prayers. There were tears. There were plans. There were friends.
Each year as I sat in Maundy Thursday service I would weep. The guilt and the fear were very real to me. Each year I wanted to stand up and say, "No, I can carry my own burden. I can be responsible." It wasn't until years later that I would learn that I actually did have to carry my own burden and take my consequences squarely on the jaw; but as someone still immature to the world Thursday broke me. What also broke me was that Jesus' friends fell asleep while he prayed. They were either resigned to the fact that he believed he would die or they thought he was wasting their time. We will never really know.
On Sunday morning I would walk into church to see an all out celebration and hear singing and chanting and people saying, "We won! He won the battle for us!" The battle. What battle? The battle over death they would say. I would reply with something along the lines of, "But he still died."
I was not being naïve. I was being honest. Have you ever sat with a cancer patient and watched the struggle. Yes, death would probably be easier, but damn, life means kids and books and TV shows. Living means a chance to do something different. What is death?
We have no idea what death is, but we know how people react to it. I call it the "clawing". Imagine a cat thrown into a bathtub. He digs his claws into the porcelain hoping, hoping, squeezing his little paws. He really doesn't want to go. I have a cat and he loves fish. He does not love fish enough to jump in the lake and get his own. I know that people are fascinated with what is on the other side of death, but very few willingly go simply because they know they can't come back and tell us. Once it's done, it's done. I have seen people clawing to stay here on earth just one more minute. Knowing your fate is different than accepting your fate.
Jesus wept.
What I want to know is, regardless if you believe him to be a real person or not, do you understand the emotion of Thursday? Not Easter, not Ostara, not the beauty of Ishtar, not the sun shiny happy eggs...do you understand the weeping? Do you understand (and I say this with respect, even if you believe it to be a story) that Jesus would never be human again and on some deep level that pained him. Look at his relationship to Lazarus. Jesus was full of mourning for his friend. Jesus felt real emotion. He lived a full life. He literally put his hands on people, not to heal but to feel.
So what pains me about Easter? The "get over it" Christian attitude. The attitude of people that believe that someone died for them yet they celebrate- all out party- on the Sunday after their best friend just died. "He has risen and we are blessed". My father never let me have a crucifix because he said as Christians we do not focus on the death. Well, duh. When my father was diagnosed with cancer he certainly focused on death. He prepared for it. He paid for it. He gathered his friends around. They mourned, they prayed, they stayed up all night. That's what real friends do. Today they still call, they still say they miss him. They know that death means 'a not returning'. To sit in Jesus' seat and know that you will not be returning. It is a great and holy narrative on what life should be: Friends, a last supper, a tear in the dark. And then repeat. Repeat it every single day until you are taken by death.
For Christians who have for centuries waited with baited breath for Jesus to return so that they can go to heaven and be "happy", I ask you this: What if he doesn't return in your lifetime? Are you staring at the sky each day waiting for him so you can "get over" this life and move on to something better? Or are you mindful of what he gave up for you? Are you mindful and respectful of what the Bible tells you? Or are you blessed and chosen and allowed to party and then sleep while Jesus begs his Father for a reprieve?
How you view death is important. How you view someone else's sacrifice is what makes you either a friend or a worthless disciple.
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Outfielders
Each baseball season I give my boys the same speech: You cannot win this game through hitting. Homeruns do not win ballgames. Defense wins ballgames. Do not ever stress out about how far you hit it or how hard you hit it. If you hit it, then run hard. Make the outfield get you out. You can swing for the fence all day long, but it's the outfielder that controls how far you move.
I think this is sage advice too for normal everyday tasks. Yes, we all enjoy a good trip back to our high school. We like seeing our pictures on the wall in the hall outside the gym. We like seeing our names up on plaques. We all remember what great football players look like. Having a big shiny moment is special. It's fun to know that you are still remembered 20 years later as the "hero". But how's life working out?
Batters swing at everything. Do they know their limitations? Do they know when others are throwing them curve balls? Are you the kind that sees a pop fly and runs for it. Do you just HAVE to get it? When you see that ball barreling toward you at second base, do you cover your face or put your glove up and prepare for the blow? When you sit on the bench are you cheering or pouting...or watching the crowd?
Life is made in those choices. How are you going to handle that moment when the bat slips out of the batter's hand and is headed straight toward you? Are you prepared for the sudden shocks that life hands you or do you need to be in complete catcher's gear just to handle a typical Thursday? You cannot win at life by riding those glory moments. You cannot keep patting yourself on the back because you won a game once. How often do you grab a competitor and say, "Man, what you just did there was awesome! Good job!" How often do we think that winning means being a winner? They are two very different things.
You need to focus on your defense. Your batting arm is very important, but so are your legs. So is your ability to think on your feet. Are you going to call that ball or let the other guy step up? Who you are, how slow you are, how much attention you pay on that field says so much about who you are in life. Learn how to take a hit. Learn how to feel the sun on your face while protecting your eyes. Learn how to listen. The batters who hit home runs come off the field all pristine and shiny. You, you my friend, need to walk into the house and have people look at you and say, "Wait, did you have a game today? You are filthy! Get a drink, grab a bath and relax." The one thing that I have learned from running is that I earn my bath time!
Don't be the guy with just his name on the wall. Be the guy people still come to because you have life skills, and smell fine.
I think this is sage advice too for normal everyday tasks. Yes, we all enjoy a good trip back to our high school. We like seeing our pictures on the wall in the hall outside the gym. We like seeing our names up on plaques. We all remember what great football players look like. Having a big shiny moment is special. It's fun to know that you are still remembered 20 years later as the "hero". But how's life working out?
Batters swing at everything. Do they know their limitations? Do they know when others are throwing them curve balls? Are you the kind that sees a pop fly and runs for it. Do you just HAVE to get it? When you see that ball barreling toward you at second base, do you cover your face or put your glove up and prepare for the blow? When you sit on the bench are you cheering or pouting...or watching the crowd?
Life is made in those choices. How are you going to handle that moment when the bat slips out of the batter's hand and is headed straight toward you? Are you prepared for the sudden shocks that life hands you or do you need to be in complete catcher's gear just to handle a typical Thursday? You cannot win at life by riding those glory moments. You cannot keep patting yourself on the back because you won a game once. How often do you grab a competitor and say, "Man, what you just did there was awesome! Good job!" How often do we think that winning means being a winner? They are two very different things.
You need to focus on your defense. Your batting arm is very important, but so are your legs. So is your ability to think on your feet. Are you going to call that ball or let the other guy step up? Who you are, how slow you are, how much attention you pay on that field says so much about who you are in life. Learn how to take a hit. Learn how to feel the sun on your face while protecting your eyes. Learn how to listen. The batters who hit home runs come off the field all pristine and shiny. You, you my friend, need to walk into the house and have people look at you and say, "Wait, did you have a game today? You are filthy! Get a drink, grab a bath and relax." The one thing that I have learned from running is that I earn my bath time!
Don't be the guy with just his name on the wall. Be the guy people still come to because you have life skills, and smell fine.
Thursday, March 14, 2013
A Simple Amen
The housework can wait for just today
I have ballgames to go to
and debts to repay
Tithes to be offered
and board games to play
There are people that I miss
and one of them is me
The housework can wait while I learn to be me
Monday, March 4, 2013
Why I Don't Have a Tatoo and Other Stories
People are usually surprised that I don't have my ears pierced. I did once, for 24 hours. It was the worst experience I could have imagined. There was something foreign in me, on me, that absolutely did not belong there. I have been clear with the kids. If you want your ears pierced you must be at least 12 years old. You have to pay for it with birthday or Christmas or Chanukah money. You have to be responsible. I will not be taking you to the doctor for infections because you are lazy. Don't get infections. I won't be buying your jewelry either. It's you. It's all you.
The kids have asked me about tattoos. My answer has always been: It's not for me. If it's for you then you have to be at least 18 and then we're back to the same rules. The real reason that I don't have piercings or tattoos comes down to a very simple principle for me. It's about honesty. When I look at history what I see are ancient cultures who marked themselves. This is what a tattoo is: a tribal marking. Historically tattoos represent your belonging to a certain village. Each tattoo symbolizes a journey on your road to becoming a man (or woman). Each tattoo and it's color and placement tell a very specific story about how old you are, what your role in society is, what family you belong to. Perhaps the Jews were told not to get tattoos because each family actually had a crest; a color. They were not expected to mark themselves because this was seen as something that you do to slaves. Branding. Jewish families have other ways of recognizing themselves. Also, we usually just talk a lot and TELL you what you don't want to know and then some. The Jews also have a way of documenting their lives on paper, not skin.
So, why do I not at this juncture have piercings or tattoos? Well, I really have never felt that I had a tribe. I don't feel like I work in conjunction with any village or group. I don't have that familial need to be forever branded to a group. I also don't have any deep bonds to any certain metal or gemstone. I believe earrings to be something that also identify your personality and should be worn to show who you are what you believe, and let's face it; what class you belong to. Jewelry is a magical thing. Earrings especially signify something that cannot or should not be removed.
Am I taking this too far? Sure. On a few levels, but we come from a society that yells at a kid if he wears his shirt 3 days in a row. Give me a break! I am someone who has lost a marriage, all my personal belongings, my father, and a few friends. I completely understand why a kid NEEDS to wear the same shirt for a week. Safety and identity. In my case I always find a way to keep going though. My safety nets change and my identity, thank G-d, has changed a few times. I want to keep changing, but when I need to feel solidarity to a group of people, then I turn on some music or wear their tee shirt. I am a person who needs change.
Let me add this story. I was in the book store one day when I met some parents from the middle school. We got along fine. A month later I ran into the father again. he took me aside and said, "May I ask you a question? It's personal." He wanted to know if my Star of David necklace was a Jewish symbol or a pagan star. He meant no offense, and neither answer would have swayed his like
or dislike of me, he just wanted to know who I was.
Kids, it's not the tee shirt that screams, "I Love Boobs" that make people judge you as much as those little things. Those extremely personal things like jewelry or tattoos. And the truth is America is a huge place. A symbol of a star to one group of people in NYC does not translate the same here in the South. You have to be very careful with symbols. You have to be sure of yourself. I will never be sure of myself and I will never want some memories etched into my skin. That is my own shortcoming, my own faults and insecurities. You aren't me. Do what you like, harm none, and be sure of yourself. Just make sure you are mature enough to handle the questions and the controversies. Peace.
The kids have asked me about tattoos. My answer has always been: It's not for me. If it's for you then you have to be at least 18 and then we're back to the same rules. The real reason that I don't have piercings or tattoos comes down to a very simple principle for me. It's about honesty. When I look at history what I see are ancient cultures who marked themselves. This is what a tattoo is: a tribal marking. Historically tattoos represent your belonging to a certain village. Each tattoo symbolizes a journey on your road to becoming a man (or woman). Each tattoo and it's color and placement tell a very specific story about how old you are, what your role in society is, what family you belong to. Perhaps the Jews were told not to get tattoos because each family actually had a crest; a color. They were not expected to mark themselves because this was seen as something that you do to slaves. Branding. Jewish families have other ways of recognizing themselves. Also, we usually just talk a lot and TELL you what you don't want to know and then some. The Jews also have a way of documenting their lives on paper, not skin.
So, why do I not at this juncture have piercings or tattoos? Well, I really have never felt that I had a tribe. I don't feel like I work in conjunction with any village or group. I don't have that familial need to be forever branded to a group. I also don't have any deep bonds to any certain metal or gemstone. I believe earrings to be something that also identify your personality and should be worn to show who you are what you believe, and let's face it; what class you belong to. Jewelry is a magical thing. Earrings especially signify something that cannot or should not be removed.
Am I taking this too far? Sure. On a few levels, but we come from a society that yells at a kid if he wears his shirt 3 days in a row. Give me a break! I am someone who has lost a marriage, all my personal belongings, my father, and a few friends. I completely understand why a kid NEEDS to wear the same shirt for a week. Safety and identity. In my case I always find a way to keep going though. My safety nets change and my identity, thank G-d, has changed a few times. I want to keep changing, but when I need to feel solidarity to a group of people, then I turn on some music or wear their tee shirt. I am a person who needs change.
Let me add this story. I was in the book store one day when I met some parents from the middle school. We got along fine. A month later I ran into the father again. he took me aside and said, "May I ask you a question? It's personal." He wanted to know if my Star of David necklace was a Jewish symbol or a pagan star. He meant no offense, and neither answer would have swayed his like
or dislike of me, he just wanted to know who I was.
Kids, it's not the tee shirt that screams, "I Love Boobs" that make people judge you as much as those little things. Those extremely personal things like jewelry or tattoos. And the truth is America is a huge place. A symbol of a star to one group of people in NYC does not translate the same here in the South. You have to be very careful with symbols. You have to be sure of yourself. I will never be sure of myself and I will never want some memories etched into my skin. That is my own shortcoming, my own faults and insecurities. You aren't me. Do what you like, harm none, and be sure of yourself. Just make sure you are mature enough to handle the questions and the controversies. Peace.
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