A truly great sermon. . .

Lenten Poem 2: Father Michel Quoist

Another poem from a good friend from Father Michel Quoist. 

The Subway

The last ones squeeze in,

The door rolls shut.

The subway rumbles off,

I can't move.

I am no longer an individual but a crowd,

A crowd that moves in one piece like jellied soup in its can.

A nameless and indifferent crowd, probably far from you, Lord.

I am one with the crowd, and I see why it's sometimes hard for me to rise higher.

The crowd is heavy-leaden soles on my feet, my slow feet-a crowd too large for my overburdened skiff.

Yet, Lord, I have no right to overlook these people; they are my brothers,

And I cannot save myself, alone.

Lord, since you wish it, I shall head for heaven "in the subway."

Lenten poem 1: Father Michel Quoist

A good friend sent me this poem from Father Michel Quoist.  It moved me as I think about the City and faith.

The Wire Fence  

The wires are holding hands around the holes;

To avoid breaking the ring, they hold tight the neighboring wrist, 

And it's thus that with holes they make a fence.

Lord, there are lots of holes in my life.

There are some in the lives of my neighbors.

But if you wish, we shall hold hands,

We shall hold very tight,

And together we shall make a fine roll of fence to adorn Paradise.

Matthew 25:31-46

CitySquare takes the gold!

The good life

How to Live

How should one live?

Live

Welcoming

to all.

Mechtild of Magdeburg

Tonight's the Night!

Racism, location and enduring poverty

Living in a poor neighborhood changes everything about your life

by Alvin Chang on January 12, 2017

In 1940, a white developer wanted to build a neighborhood in Detroit.

 

So he asked the US Federal Housing Administration to back a loan. The FHA, which was created just six years earlier to help middle-class families buy homes, said no because the development was too close to an "inharmonious" racial group.

Meaning black people.

Read and view more  here.

Holy Unrest

Divine Dissatisfaction Let us go out with a divine dissatisfaction. Let us be dissatisfied until America will no longer have a high blood pressure of creeds and an anemia of deeds. Let us be dissatisfied until the tragic walls that separate the outer city of wealth and comfort and the inner city of poverty and despair shall be crushed by the battering rams of the forces of justice. Let us be dissatisfied until those that live on the outskirts of hope are brought into the metropolis of daily security. Let us be dissatisfied until slums are cast into the junk heaps of history, and every family is living in a decent sanitary home. Let us be dissatisfied until the dark yesterdays of segregated schools will be transformed into bright tomorrows of quality, integrated education. Let us be dissatisfied until integration is not seen as a problem but as an opportunity to participate in the beauty of diversity. Let us be dissatisfied until men and women, however black they may be, will be judged on the basis of the content of their character and not on the basis of the color of their skin. Let us be dissatisfied. Let us be dissatisfied until every state capitol houses a governor who will do justly, who will love mercy and who will walk humbly with his God. Let us be dissatisfied until from every city hall, justice will roll down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream. Let us be dissatisfied until that day when the lion and the lamb shall lie down together, and every man will sit under his own vine and fig tree and none shall be afraid. Let us be dissatisfied. Let us be dissatisfied until that day when nobody will shout White Power! —when nobody will shout Black Power!— but everybody will talk about God’s power and human power. The road ahead will not always be smooth. There will be still rocky places of frustration and meandering points of bewilderment. There will be inevitable setbacks here and there. There will be those moments when the buoyancy of hope will be transformed into the fatigue of despair. Our dreams will sometimes be shattered and our ethereal hopes blasted. The road ahead will not always be smooth. There will be still rocky places of frustration and meandering points of bewilderment. There will be inevitable setbacks here and there. There will be those moments when the buoyancy of hope will be transformed into the fatigue of despair. Our dreams will sometimes be shattered and our ethereal hopes blasted. Difficult and painful as it is, we must walk on in the days ahead with an audacious faith in the future. Martin Luther King Jr. Source: Southern Christian Leadership Conference address 16 Aug 1967

Housing, the place to begin

Change makers

Here’s to the Crazy Ones

Here’s to the crazy ones.
The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers.
The round pegs in the square holes.
The ones who see things differently.
They’re not fond of rules.
And they have no respect for the status quo.

You can praise them, disagree with them, quote them,
disbelieve them, glorify or vilify them.
About the only thing you can’t do is ignore them.
Because they change things.
They invent. They imagine.
They heal. They explore. They create. They inspire.
They push the human race forward.
Maybe they have to be crazy.

How else can you stare at an empty canvas and see a work of art?
Or sit in silence and hear a song that’s never been written?
Or gaze at a red planet and see a laboratory on wheels?
While some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius.

Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world,
are the ones who do.

Jack Kerouac

Prophetic Communities

The Church’s Role

The church must be reminded that it is not the master or the servant of the state, but rather the conscience of the state. It must be the guide and the critic of the state, and never its tool. If the church does not recapture its prophetic zeal, it will become an irrelevant social club without moral or spiritual authority. If the church does not participate actively in the struggle for peace and for economic and racial justice, it will forfeit the loyalty of millions and cause men everywhere to say that it has atrophied its will. But if the church will free itself from the shackles of a deadening status quo, and, recovering its great historic mission, will speak and act fearlessly and insistently in terms of justice and peace, it will enkindle the imagination of mankind and fire the souls of men, imbuing them with a glowing and ardent love for truth, justice, and peace. Men far and near will know the church as a great fellowship of love that provides light and bread for lonely travelers at midnight.

Martin Luther King Jr.
Source: A Knock at Midnight (11 June 1967)

My friend Terry, the entrepreneur

After weeks of above average temperatures in Dallas, the cold snap whipped us hard last Tuesday night.  I mean, from over 70 to below 40, that's a real snap!

Upon arriving at my office Wednesday morning, I found this note taped to my door.

Terry and I have been friends for a few years.  We met on the street when he approached me offering to do a couple of card tricks.  I obliged with a $5 tip.  He wowed me and others who gathered with his 1/2 magic, 1/2 stand up routine.

He's never been much of a beggar or panhandler with me.  Too proud and independent.  Only when really pressed to the edges does he ask for help of any kind.  Last Tuesday evening at the end of the day, he stopped to see me to ask for special assistance as the note reflects.

I was busy when he came in, and he was gone when I got free.

This note shook me a bit, as I thought through what the night must have been like for him outside.  I had seen him the day before, and finally convinced him to make an appointment to see our staff who could really help him head in a new direction.  We talked several times that day, actually to the point of distraction.

As I worried about him on Wednesday morning, he showed up for a cup of coffee!  It was a relief to see him.

I asked him if he had made the arrangement with his friend to stay in out of the weather.  He told me that he had solved the problem himself.  He then went on to tell me how he had found shelter back of a restaurant dumpster.  He went into great detail about how he used scrap lumber and tin siding to construct a warm little home that blocked the wind that forced him to bed down around 9 p.m.

"That little house made me happy," he told me.  "It was just too cold to stay up, so I went to bed when I finished building it.  I got a good night's sleep, Larry!" he exclaimed.

When I commented about my amazement at his creativity and toughness, he simply replied, "Well, Larry, you know me; I'm an entrepreneur at heart."   

Well, Terry, that's one way to look at it for sure.

Just one snapshot from a guy I count as a friend. . .and, we're working on finding real housing for him. 

Safe Conversations: You Gotta See This!

The power of free trade

Homeless action in Ireland

Volunteer for 2017 Homeless Census

Hidden Bias

Shankar Vedantam, The Hidden Brain

Take a bias test here.

CBS Radio discovers CitySquare

Tune in here to learn about CitySquare as reported by the CBS Radio Network!

Dear Mr. President-Elect

Rev. Paul Rasmssen, Senior Minister at the Highland Park United Methodist Church in Dallas, delivered this message to the church on the Sunday following the 2016 national election.

 You'll want to listen, I can assure you.

The Mistakes We Make When Giving

The Wall Street Journal published a very helpful article on the mistakes we make when we give or think about giving with the most impact. 

Read this provocative essay here. 

Pop Quiz:  True or False  "It is best to give money if the goal is highest impact." 

I see the Christmas story every day, all year long at CitySquare:

. . .the young women who discover they are pregnant before they are married.

. . .the poor fathers who lapse into homelessness at crucial moments.

. . .the kinfolks who believe with every new born child that the family is poised for better days.

. . .the ordinary, common, working people who show up to see hope, sort of like the shepherds.

. . .the immigrants who live on the run because of unjust public policy and cruel leaders.

. . .the political officials who go home another way to keep from confronting the oppressors who    threaten the poor and their children.

. . .the arrival of babies and the spread of joy and longing for better days and better options.

. . .the angels, ah, the angels who clearly visit us in strange disguise, but clearly other worldly.

Merry Christmas!

Run, Mary Run

This is from The Brilliance. 

Some may find it offensive, but the story of the birth and childhood of of Jesus was anything but peaceful.  It would be easy to write additional verses to this song, lyrics dealing with hunger, homelessness, and exclusion.  The ability to hear the contemporary truth of scripture through careful and faithful contextualization--ancient and modern--transforms people and systems. 

May we have ears to hear. 

Like far too many children today, violence, discrimination, fear, poverty and life "on the run" characterized the earliest experiences of this special baby.

As we worship the Christ child, may we really see him in the children who suffer today, near and far.

For your calendar. . .

"What am I worth to you?"

My friend, Joe is dying.  Joe has advanced stage cancer. 

I've known him for about three years.  I met him on a street corner.  Almost all of that time Joe has been homeless and on the street. 

Thanks to a public health benefit, Joe's health care as he reaches the end of his life has been really excellent. Ironically, Joe's had the best living situation of his life during his time in a couple of local hospitals and a rehabilitation center. 

Joe and I have stayed in touch by phone, and I've visited him in the care centers where he's been receiving treatment. 

Earlier this week I visited him in the hospital.  He is weak, battling pneumonia and the cancer.  As always, he was glad to see me.  We visited for a while, and then, I had to go to get to another appointment. 

As I prepared to leave, Joe asked me. "Larry, can I get a $20 bill from you?"

I said, "Sure, Joe, that's an easy one," as I lifted the bank note from my wallet. 

"Here you go!  Are you going to buy you something better to eat," I asked and motioned to his untouched, cold meal the nurses had set before him. 

"Yeah, man, I'm going to find me a great buffet," he exclaimed, flashing his broad smile.

As I turned to leave, he called out, "Larry, how long's it been since I asked you for a $20?" 

"Long time, Joe, long time," I answered. 

"I love you man," I told him.  "I'll be back by."

"I love you, too, Larry," he replied.

As I walked to my car, I remembered our street routine, repeated so many times.  Joe would ask me for money.  Usually, I gave him $20 at a time for something to eat. He needed a little help because he hated the shelters and preferred the freedom of the street, as cruel and unforgiving as it was.  At least with the street, he could deal on his own terms. 

As I recalled those times, it hit me.  Joe didn't really need my $20.  He wasn't going to any buffet.  He's headed to hospice. 

What Joe needed was to know that I'd still honor his reqeust. Joe needed to know that he was worth something to me, that he was special, that we were, after all, friends. 

As I pondered in my flashback mode, I realized that is all Joe ever needed from me.  The money possessed varying degrees of value to him, depending on his circumstance.  But being able to approach a friend and have a request honored, there was what he really sought. It all translated to his own sense of worth.

My, my. 

Joe, old pal, you're worth so much more than you understand, so much more. 

Celebration for Christmas!

Advent Conflict

Advent tensions. . . reading the Gospels

A "virgin birth"                                       A teenage mom

Emmanuel (God with us)                        A very poor child     

A father's dreams                                    Harsh reality facing fathers

A political tyrant                                     Suffering people

Oppression and lies                                 Dishonesty with the poor

Refugee family                                        Immigrants systematically excluded

Children murdered                                  Children in toxic stress

A special child                                         Syrian children

Surprised by joy!                                     Tables turned upside down

Birth                                                         All people included

Waiting ended                                          Celebration of jutice realized

Wise men & shepherds                             Classless community

Advent                                                      Advent

                    

                                      

Chideo comes to CitySquare

Chideo provides an effective platform for non-profit leaders, as well as celebrities, speak up for their causes. 

Not long ago, Chideo added a podcast feature.  Check out my interview with Drew Hamilton here or here. 

Thanks, Drew and Chideo! 

Love drives out fear. . .always

Inhuman Generosity

One of the real special blessings of my life is friendship across miles and years.  My longtime friendship with Randy Jolly has meant the world to me.  Just today, Randy sent me one of his uplifting notes.  It is worth simply quoting. LJ

Larry,

A great quote from the recently departed poet Leonard Cohen:

"I'm very fond of Jesus Christ.  He may be the most beautiful guy who walked the face of the earth. Any guy who says, 'Blessed are the poor.  Blessed are the meek,' has got to be a figure of unparalled generosity and insight and madness. . . A man who declared himself to stnad among thieves, the prostitutes and the homeless.  His position cannot be comprehended.  It is an inhuman generosity.  A generosity that would overthrow the world if it was embarced becasue nothing would weather that compassion." 

Love you brother,
Randy