Category Archives: Friends

December 20, 2012 · 11:20 pm

On the steps, in the streets, with the people

Ministry comes in a variety of forms.
Followers of Jesus do not all look alike nor do we all do identical work.
Pillars of the Church come in many different shapes.

On December 12, 2012, Cynthia Bolbach died. A former moderator of our General Assembly, Cindy was well-known and loved by many across the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.).

Teddy MapesOn December 17, 2012, Teddy Mapes died. The sexton at West-Park Presbyterian Church in Manhattan, Teddy was known and well-loved by the West-Park community and by many in the neighborhood of Amsterdam and W. 86th Street.

A gentle bear of a man with a heart overflowing with compassion, Teddy came to West-Park a little over a year ago as the congregation connected with the Occupy movement. He quickly fit into the community. He took part in Bible study and worship and became a member.

Teddy cared for the physical building of the church. More importantly, he cared for the spiritual building – the community – the Body of Christ. He helped negotiate the creative chaos that the Spirit so often stirs at West-Park. Teddy became one of the public faces of the church.

I had only met Teddy a couple of times – but in those brief encounters, I could tell the significant role he played in the community. So today, I walked to West-Park to talk to my friend Bob Brashear, pastor of the church, about Teddy. Teddy’s biggest contribution, his most profound ministry, Bob noted took place “on the steps, in the streets, with the people.”

On the steps. In the streets. With the people. What a ministry, what a legacy.

Teddy’s death has ripped a hole in the West-Park Presbyterian Church community. I cannot imagine how painful the tear is – nor how challenging their ride through the ragged reality of grief will be – nor how long the rebuilding process will take.

But this I know: God who loved Teddy Mapes in this life continues to love Teddy Mapes and has welcomed him home. I give thanks for Teddy’s life and love and witness and faith.

And this I know: it will take time, it will be challenging, there will be tears, there will be fits and starts – but somehow, some way, some day, “every little thing gonna be all right” for the people of West-Park Presbyterian Church. Alleluia. Alleluia. Alleluia.

See you along the Trail.

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December 17, 2012 · 8:22 am

As I should pray every day

Many concerns and joys and needs appear in my prayers.

This day – as should happen every day –

I pray
for children who go to school;
for parents and families who send their children to school;
for teachers, administrators, and all who work at school;
for parents and families who send their loved ones to work in schools.

With thanks to J.C. Austin and Shannan Vance-Ocampo and Derrick Weston for reminding me.

See you along the Trail.

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December 12, 2012 · 5:46 pm

Reflections on a life well lived

I am not alone in trying to articulate my deep appreciation for Cynthia – Cindy – Bolbach. Here are some other reflections:

Former GA Moderator Cindy Bolbach Dies at Age 64 by Presbyterian News Service

Advent: What Are We Waiting For? by Theresa Cho

Dear Madame Moderator … by Bruce Reyes-Chow

What I Continue to Learn from Cindy Bolbach: We Hate Cancer by Jan Edmiston

Life Is Fragile by Ruth Everhart

Former GA Moderator Cindy Bolbach Dies at Age 64 by Michael Kruse

Madam Moderator Cynthia Bolbach by Krista Phillips

Advent day 11: Rest in Peace by Derrick L. Weston

Fell Sergeant, Strict in His Arrest by Fr. Mike White, Cindy’s nephew

Cynthia Bolbach, Moderator of the 219th General Assembly, passes away by The Presbyterian Outlook

If you have written something – if you see something – that should be added, please make a comment and I will do so.

See you along the Trail.

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December 12, 2012 · 3:03 pm

Utter chaos

Five years. The vagaries of time make it feel like yesterday and like a lifetime ago, all in the same moment.

Ruling Elder Cynthia Bolbach, moderator of the 219th General Assembly (2010) of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) died on 12-12-12 in the afternoon. This post was written on that day at a time before I knew of her death. Thanks be to God for her life! Alleluia. Amen.

Here are reflections from friends and colleagues on her life and death.

I did something today I have never done before.

I stood in silence for five minutes.

I am not big on pomp and circumstance and formality. A South African friend once observed that I can be a bit “cheeky” to those in authority. For some reason everyone who has heard that assessment has agreed with it. Go figure.

I stood in silence today for five minutes in honor of Cindy Bolbach.

The tradition in the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) is to stand when the General Assembly moderator of enters the room. Almost every moderator in my memory has encouraged people not to do so. Most of the time most of them meant it. Yet the tradition persists – in honor of the person and even more so in respect of the office. And while it is not my favorite thing, I take part.

Today, without being asked, without being prompted, I chose to stand in silence for five minutes in honor of Cindy Bolbach – moderator of the 219th General Assembly (2010).

I watched her election from the back of the auditorium in Minneapolis. My son Sean and I leaned against the wall.

A period of questions and answers precedes the voting. Commissioners (the folks with the votes) pose questions and the individuals standing (we’re Presbyterian, we don’t run) respond. The questions deal with theology, issues before the church, and issues in the world.

At one point, a question was posed along the lines of: “What would happen to the church, if you were not elected and one of the other candidates were?”

One by one the candidates offered replies praising the others and noting that the church did not depend on their election. Then Cindy Bolbach stepped to the mike. I do not remember her exact words, but the essence was:

There will be utter chaos.

The Assembly erupted in laughter. Sean turned to me and said, “She just won, didn’t she?”

The Assembly still had to vote. But Cindy did win. And I believe her sparkling humor that bristles with wisdom played a key role.

I stood in silence today for five minutes in honor of Cindy Bolbach.

Cindy is a woman of incredible faith, deep love, amazing grace, and an incredible wit. She lives daily her commitment to Christ, to the Church, to the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) , to all people, and to God’s world. She mixes simplicity and profound sincerity with a capability to navigate complexity and controversy. I am privileged to know her. The Church (in all its manifestations) is blessed by her presence.

For most of this year, Cindy has struggled against cancer. The struggle cut short her ability to attend events but it never dampened her spirits (at least in public). She wore a fedora to the 220th General Assembly (2012) and she wore it well.

This morning came the news that Cindy has entered hospice care. And I stood for five minutes in her honor.

But in the silence it came to me that another way – a better way – to honor Cindy Bolbach – is to give thanks to God for Cindy – to entrust Cindy to God’s merciful care – to pray for her without ceasing – then to get back about the business of ministry. I am pretty sure that is what she would want. So it is what I have done.

When Cindy returns to the dust, as we all will someday do, I will shed more tears. But I will also proclaim “Alleluia.”

When Cindy returns to the dust, as we all will someday do, there will be utter chaos. But in the chaos there will be love and there will be grace and there will be God. And all will be well for Cindy. And all will be well for us. Alleluia. Alleluia. Alleluia.

See you along the Trail.

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November 20, 2012 · 6:34 pm

My friend Bruce is writing a book

My friend Bruce is writing a book. I am supporting his effort. You can read why below or you can just take the plunge and become a supporter too.

No . . . where are you FROM? — A Book on Race by Bruce Reyes-Chow

During a trip to San Francisco, when I served as the Presbyterian Church’s associate for antiracism training, I asked a number of friends, colleagues, and wise people who I should meet for conversations about race and racial justice. A number of individuals were named, but one individual was named on a regular basis.

Bruce Reyes-Chow.

I listened. I contacted Bruce. And, over coffee, we met for the first time.

Our conversation ranged across the landscape of the social construction of race and the deconstruction of the structures put into place by racism. We explored the different perceptions of race held by different generations … the different experiences of raced lived by different generations … the differences between racism as experienced on the West Coast and in the Mid West and in other parts of our county. And we experienced the commonalities interwoven within these distinctions.

In the short time we spent together, I developed a deep respect for Bruce, the seeds of friendship were planted, and I realized that he has a voice I and others need to hear on questions related to race. Of course, listening to each other applies to all people. The difference is that Bruce is writing a book.

Bruce will self-publish No … where are you FROM?  He is in the process of raising funds through Kickstarter. I am proud to be a backer – even though I will receive no Pittsburgh Steelers swag as a result – despite my many suggestions of how that would enhance the project to my San Francisco 49ers supporting friend (comments about the results of this weekend’s games will be deleted).

Bruce describes his reason for writing as:

If you’ve ever wanted to cultivate honest conversations about race, this book is my attempt at offering ways to help make that happen.

He reflects on his hope for the book in these words:

My hope is that by sharing my story – the joys and the struggles – this book will compel folk to enter a space where they can get at some of the assumptions, misunderstandings and intentions about race so that deeper connections and relationships can be had.

You can get a sense of his perspective as well as the flavor of his writing from some of his earlier articles:

Bruce notes that:

it is also my hope that you will find the time, faith and courage to jump into these conversations with an openness that challenges the expectations of the world around race.

I plan to take that jump. I assume that Bruce’s book will challenge my expectations around race. And I hope that I will be better equipped to engage in conversations that will help me challenge expectations around race and realities around racism.

Thanks Bruce for writing this book (even if you are a heretic and you talk to your cat – it’s on the Internet, it must be true).

I’m a supporter and I urge others to become supporters as well!

See you along the Trail.

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October 17, 2012 · 8:37 pm

Purple flowers: why I post them

My friend Judy set me wondering when she asked about the “purple flower collection.”

Why do I post photos of purple flowers?

I have never liked flowers. In some ways, I dislike flowers. With my life-long allergies, many flowers flat-out make me sneeze.

I also dislike taking care of flowers. Gardening holds no appeal. I can barely keep flowers or other plants alive indoors.

When I moved to New York, I received a gorgeous potted setting of several plants for my office. Plants. No flowers. Those who gave it to me know of my allergies. The plants survive only because Ricky cares for them.

I confess that I sometimes ponder getting cacti as a reminder of New Mexico. Someday I may do that. For now, even the minimal care that cacti require seems more than I want to expend.

I do understand that others like to receive flowers. From time to time over the years, on what I hope were appropriate occasions, my mother and Tricia have received gifts from FTD.

When he played a senior solo at Heights High, son Sean received many flowers from friends. I wonder at this concept and then rejoiced when he shared the flowers with shut-in friends.

My lack of interest in things floral does not come naturally. My grandfather loved to garden. He did so at home and on the family farm. In retirement he worked at the local college – as a gardener. 

I spent time in gardens working with him. I carried tools I could not name and cans of water. But I learned little. My joy came not from caring for the flowers and shrubs and trees but from being in my grandfather’s presence.

His love for gardening and for flowers passed to my mother. Again I helped but never quite got the point. No green thumbs came to me. I am fine with that.

Sifting through the sands of memory, one floral experience does bring a smile. We lived for a number of years on Neville Island in the Ohio River – 7007 Front River Road. Why can I remember that but forget passwords I created yesterday?

Between our back yard and the Ohio River stood an inclined bank where each spring wild flowers grew. I can still see my pudgy little hand proudly clutching bouquets for my mother – bouquets of wild violets – purple flowers.

The color purple is easier. I have always liked purple. At one point, I persuaded my parents to paint my room a deep, dark, rich, royal purple.

A few years back, I started taking photos. Sons Sean and Eric began before me and it looked like fun. One summer, Sean loaned me his camera to take to Ghost Ranch. I was hooked.

I started saving money and reached the goal. Then, a few days before I went shopping, the washing machine at the Shire died. I knew it was not a good sign when the repairwoman spent fifteen minutes in her truck trying to track down the part. She pointed out that the dryer was the same age as the washing machine so it might make sense to replace them both. Darned if that did not cost about the same as the camera I wanted to buy.

I saved again. Time passed. The major appliances cooperated. I took the plunge.

I am not any good at it. I freely confess that. But every once in a while the camera carries me. Foolish and fearless, I post some of the results.

This spring I posted photos from Ireland and Northern Ireland where Tricia and I traveled for Roja and Joel’s wedding. Among the photos was one of purple flowers at the Titanic Memorial Garden.

After that, as I sorted through my photos, I realized how many photos of purple flowers I have. I had not been aware of that. But there they are. And the series was born. Now I take photos of purple flowers intentionally. 

I cannot name the flowers and have little interest in learning their names. But I know where I took the photos and with the aid of the time and date stamp when I took them.

Perhaps they touch my childhood in some way I will some day understand. For now, they are purple.

They are memory.

That is good.

That is enough.

See you along the Trail.

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October 15, 2012 · 6:11 pm

Purple flowers, Greeley Centennial Village Museum

The 2011 Colorado trek had elements of
sadness mixed with joy.
Our friend Steve died before we arrived,
but we gave thanks with his family and friends
as we witnessed to the Resurrection
and celebrated his life.

Steve lived in Greeley:
some among his friends called him
the Bishop of Greeley.

There in his domain,
we found the
Greeley Centennial Village Museum
and many gardens
and many purple flowers.

These are the first.
Others will follow in weeks to come.

8 July 2011
Greeley Centennial Village Museum
Greeley, CO

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October 13, 2012 · 1:01 am

I did not

I made my way down the jetway and entered the plane. As instructed by the flight crew of SW flight 2635 (LGA to MDW), I found my favorite seat and took it.

There I discovered that someone had worked the crossword puzzle and returned the magazine to the seat pocket. Poetic justice? I have done that many times.

Since I was in the A boarding group, the seats beside me stood empty. I quickly rummaged through them and discovered that they too had worked crossword puzzles. I also discovered a perplexing treasure. Someone had left a bag of peanuts behind.

In a totally infallible, absolutely scientifically accurate endeavor, I posted the question on Facebook:

Would you eat the peanuts in the sealed package some previous passenger left behind?

Thus far I have received 19 comments. They range widely and reveal  my friends’ creativity.

Seven friends provided a variation on yes. One said no. One said no for allergic reasons.

One wanted further information before committing:

Are they salted or honey roasted?

Context entered into a number of responses. Recognizing my travel habits, one friend wanted to know just where these peanuts had been found. Location may be everything:

On an airplane or on the subway?

Recalling the Donner Party, one friend pointed out that there would be circumstances in which eating the peanuts would make enormous sense:

Depending on the context. probably not. But if I were starving it would be better than gnawing on the arm of the person sitting next to me.

Another observed that there is a holiday of some sort coming up based on obtaining food products with an unverifiable chain of custody:

Yes, if they were sealed….in a couple of weeks, my daughter will bring home a bag of candy with very uncertain histories. As long as its wrapped, it seems safe.

Two friends waxed theological:

Wait – are these “Left Behind” peanuts? Have you considered what could happen if you eat them?

Left Behind? You mean after the rapture nuts?

There were moments of self-revelation. One friend suggested a use for the peanuts other than eating them or leaving them … and implied this may be the voice of experience speaking:

Honestly. I would probably put them in my bag and carry them around for a few days, then end up giving them to one of my sons to take on a field trip. (Not that that ever happened.)

Another friend confessed to being the one who abandons peanuts to the cruel chances of fate:

I’m the one who leaves them behind.

One friend did not know they gave out peanuts in airplanes any more … ah the joys of Southwest Airlines and one friend refused to answer, not out of concern for self-incrimination, but for my safety’s sake:

I could tell you, but then I’d have to … well, you know the drill!

Duly noted and appreciated.

What started as a lark proved to offer insights into both my friends and my friends knowledge of me. I will have to try this again with another question.

For the record, I did not eat the peanuts. And here is why: I am in a self-care mode and I did not want the calories. For 12 days, I have eaten in the range of 2,000 calories, walked at least 10,00 steps, and done a concentrated walk of 30 or more minutes – gotta love those laundry nights.

I hope the next person who discovers the peanuts has as much fun with her or his friends as I did.

See you along the Trail.

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October 8, 2012 · 5:55 pm

Purple flowers, University of the West Indies, Mona Campus

The International Ecumenical Peace Convocation
met on the
Mona Campus
of the
University of the West Indies.

Memories of those days remain:
learning, leading, warm sun
worship, singing, prayers,
speakers, workshops,
networks built and renewed,
Colombia Accompaniment Program,
new options for pursuing peace,
Red Stripe under the moon,
jerk chicken, sweet and sour tofu,
little hot dogs in sauce, jerk chicken,
Sarah, Marta, Shaya, Theresa
and in the gardens,
purple flowers.

22 May 2011
University of the West Indies
Mona Campus, Jamaica

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October 1, 2012 · 8:03 pm

The Second Meeting – advance screening

Check out this movie that my friends at the Center at West Park will screen.

The Center at West Park's avatarThe Center at West Park

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NEW YORK, NY (September 24, 2012)– The advanced screening of a new documentary by Optimistic Film, The Second Meeting, will debut in New York City on Saturday, October 13, 2012, at West Park Presbyterian Church. Immediately following, there will be a panel discussion featuring the subjects of the film, U.S. Air Force pilot Lt. Colonel Dale Zelko and Yugoslav missile officer Colonel Zoltan Dani.

The Second Meeting follows Lt. Col Zelko’s journey back to Serbia to meet Col. Dani, 12 years after the first meeting of the pilot and missile officer who commanded the Yugoslav missile battery that shot down Zelko’s F117A Stealth fighter in 1999. “I had the remarkable opportunity to have a second chance at experiencing Serbia and her people and I will forever be deeply grateful, enriched, and blessed by it,” said Lt. Col Zelko of the experience.

The advanced screening will be the first showing…

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