The Pastor’s Page
Today is a special day.
Not only is it the first Sunday of the last month of 2009, the year we dedicated to understanding and keeping covenant, but it is the day when one of our own, Dr. Cynthia Tyson, completes the covenant she made with God about a year ago when God called and she answered, “Here I am, Lord.”
She completes that covenant in the sense that today, she is ordained. She has completed a year of study and mentoring, and now goes through the ceremony which marks the end of that process, but her work as a deacon has just begun.
Being a deacon is no small thing. The first deacons were appointed by apostles who noticed that there was bickering among the church people. The Grecian Jews were complaining about the Hebraic Jews, saying that the widows of the Greeks were being overlooked in the daily distribution of food.
It was church mess, and was growing in intensity, as church mess does.
These first deacons – there were seven of them – were appointed by “The Twelve,” who said, “It would not be right for us to neglect the ministry of the word of God in order to wait on tables. Brothers, choose seven men from among you who are known to be full of the Spirit and wisdom. We will turn this responsibility over to them and will give our attention to prayer and the ministry of the word.”
Deacons are called to help the undershepherd of any church. They are called to be full of the Spirit, to be serious about their relationship with God. They are called to be servants in the deepest sense of the word, attending to the needs of the people, whenever there are needs to be met. They are the right hand of the pastor, and they are the smiled upon of God.
I watched Dr. Tyson struggle through her call to be a deacon. I heard her first whisper, her suspicion that God was calling her, her timidity in wondering if she would be shunned because she is a lesbian, but her conviction that she would have to risk that because first and foremost, she would have to be faithful and obedient to the God who called her. I watched her break down in tears when she finally walked the aisle at one service, a service where I called forth people who had been “called.” She sobbed in my arms as she said she’d been called to be a deacon. She whispered, she sobbed, but she came forward.
Throughout her walk, her fierce love for God has shown through. When I could not “be there,” she was. When I said I needed a huge tree for the front of the church, to tell the message that “Jesus is the light of the world and that we are the light of the community,” she went looking for a tree, and found one. When I announced that we were going to study covenant this year and that I wanted a rock in the sanctuary to remind the people of the Biblical story of how a rock was to be the testimony of the people that they had made a covenant with God, she and Dr. Judy Alston went and found that rock.
She comes to Bible study. She teaches others. She studies like no student I have ever had. Her seriousness about her call is evident and obvious.
I think God must be smiling, for here is one who has said, “Here am I Lord, send me!” and means it. The Deacon Board is blessed to have her. Advent United Church of Christ is blessed to have her …but mostly, God has to be glad that she came forward and said “yes” to the call to serve.
We embrace you, Dr. Cynthia Tyson. We embrace you and your ministry. We celebrate the work you have done and support the work you have yet to do. The work has really just begun, but this far on the journey, God must surely be smiling.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Thanks in a Different Way
The Pastor’s Page
Thank you, God, for another year.
This year, it hit me that I no longer take being alive each Thanksgiving and Christmas season like I used to. When I realized that it really was Thanksgiving, and that I was/am alive and in good health, I said a different kind of thanksgiving prayer.
So many people do not make it to “the next Thanksgiving,” and my prayer is that every day, I am in alignment with God’s will for my life so that whenever God calls, I am as ready as I can be.
Not only did we all make it to this Thanksgiving, but I am presuming that we all ate. How about the Associated Press reported that in the United States there are about 17 million families who do not have enough to eat. I doubt they had big Thanksgiving feasts.
There is so much to be thankful for.
I know that some of you are sad because you do not have much money, and that even with “Black Friday,” you will not be able to swarm through department stores and spend a lot of money. Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe not having the diversion of shopping like we would like, spending money we do not have, we can pause and thank God for what really matters.
There are two young teens, one black and one white, who were set on fire by “friends.” I pray for them both and for their families, and thank God that my children are OK.
There is a little girl, Shaniya Davis, who was raped and murdered after her mother allegedly hired her out as a prostitute. She was five years old. Her family is devastated. I thank God that I have never had to experience that kind of pain.
We as a church were able to give out 100 baskets for Thanksgiving, in spite of many of us being unemployed or underemployed. You went out and bought food for others, when I am not sure all of you have enough food for yourselves. I thank God that I have that kind of church.
There are families of 13 victims who were killed at Ft. Hood, whose holy day season will be really hard this year…
All these things made me pause and think and thank God in a new a different way this year. I hope that I never waver from this place of new awareness and I pray that more of us will embrace this kind of awareness…because at the end of the day, it’s not about turkey and dressing, Christmas decorations and gifts.
It’s about acknowledging that God is good all the time …and is worthy to be praised, no matter what.
Thank you, God, for another year.
This year, it hit me that I no longer take being alive each Thanksgiving and Christmas season like I used to. When I realized that it really was Thanksgiving, and that I was/am alive and in good health, I said a different kind of thanksgiving prayer.
So many people do not make it to “the next Thanksgiving,” and my prayer is that every day, I am in alignment with God’s will for my life so that whenever God calls, I am as ready as I can be.
Not only did we all make it to this Thanksgiving, but I am presuming that we all ate. How about the Associated Press reported that in the United States there are about 17 million families who do not have enough to eat. I doubt they had big Thanksgiving feasts.
There is so much to be thankful for.
I know that some of you are sad because you do not have much money, and that even with “Black Friday,” you will not be able to swarm through department stores and spend a lot of money. Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe not having the diversion of shopping like we would like, spending money we do not have, we can pause and thank God for what really matters.
There are two young teens, one black and one white, who were set on fire by “friends.” I pray for them both and for their families, and thank God that my children are OK.
There is a little girl, Shaniya Davis, who was raped and murdered after her mother allegedly hired her out as a prostitute. She was five years old. Her family is devastated. I thank God that I have never had to experience that kind of pain.
We as a church were able to give out 100 baskets for Thanksgiving, in spite of many of us being unemployed or underemployed. You went out and bought food for others, when I am not sure all of you have enough food for yourselves. I thank God that I have that kind of church.
There are families of 13 victims who were killed at Ft. Hood, whose holy day season will be really hard this year…
All these things made me pause and think and thank God in a new a different way this year. I hope that I never waver from this place of new awareness and I pray that more of us will embrace this kind of awareness…because at the end of the day, it’s not about turkey and dressing, Christmas decorations and gifts.
It’s about acknowledging that God is good all the time …and is worthy to be praised, no matter what.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
We Count
The Pastor’s Page
I keep thinking about the double standard of the way news is reported.
In Cleveland, Ohio, at least 13 women have turned up dead. They were African American women …some with serious problems, but they were human beings, and they had been missing for a while. It turns out that they’d been murdered by one Mr. Anthony Sowell, a convicted sex offender.
Thirteen women gone. Missing for a while, and yet, I do not remember hearing any stories about the women being missing.
I think of Heather Ellis, the college student who was arrested for allegedly assaulting a police officer after she was accused of cutting into a line at Walmart …and who faces 15 years in prison for this minor offense…and yet, the coverage has been minimal.
I think of the young African American boy, Walter Currie, who lives in Poplar Bluffs, Missouri, who was set on fire by another teen. The coverage, again, has been minimal.
Yet, Sarah Palin is all over the place!
There are countless sad and discouraging stories about what is happening to people of color all over this country, and yet, we hear little about them. If a young white girl is missing, we hear about it; it is a sure thing that if 13 white women were missing, be they of ill repute or not, the entire nation would know about it.
And yet, our people have horrible things that happen to them, and scarcely a word is said.
There is a need for us to be vigilant and to tell the stories ourselves. I firmly believe that we should not whine about what is “not,” but work to make a difference ourselves. In this age of the internet, and the “I reporter” phenomenon, there is no reason why our stories should not be getting out.
If the police will not look for our missing, and if the media will not cover stories about our missing, or, as in the case of Walter Currie, our injured and misused, then we ought to make sure the news gets out.
Of course, when there is something untoward that someone in the African American community has done, it’s front page news. The horrible story about the young African American mother who apparently sold her 5 year old daughter out as a prostitute, and who consequently ended up murdered, deservedly made the news.
And so did the story about John Allen Muhammad, who was executed last week for the people he randomly killed as the “DC Sniper,” make the news. I have no problem with that.
But so should reports of our missing women and children make the news. We count. Our children count.
The fact that the officials in Cleveland ignored the stench of death in a primarily African American neighborhood should be big news; there ought to be a big time investigation going on, and the results ought to be made public.
Like I said, we count.
The tendency of the media to focus only on the misfortunes of our community, while ignoring the tragedies that occur in our communities, is a travesty and professionally unforgivable.
I write this, again, to say that we need to care about our community enough, care enough about our women and our children to make sure the world knows about what is going on. If we don’t tell the stories, they will not be told.
That is obvious.
Rather than waste valuable energy, though, complaining, I say we look at our problems and issues and work to make a difference.
That is what we, I believe, as empowered Christians, are called to do.
I keep thinking about the double standard of the way news is reported.
In Cleveland, Ohio, at least 13 women have turned up dead. They were African American women …some with serious problems, but they were human beings, and they had been missing for a while. It turns out that they’d been murdered by one Mr. Anthony Sowell, a convicted sex offender.
Thirteen women gone. Missing for a while, and yet, I do not remember hearing any stories about the women being missing.
I think of Heather Ellis, the college student who was arrested for allegedly assaulting a police officer after she was accused of cutting into a line at Walmart …and who faces 15 years in prison for this minor offense…and yet, the coverage has been minimal.
I think of the young African American boy, Walter Currie, who lives in Poplar Bluffs, Missouri, who was set on fire by another teen. The coverage, again, has been minimal.
Yet, Sarah Palin is all over the place!
There are countless sad and discouraging stories about what is happening to people of color all over this country, and yet, we hear little about them. If a young white girl is missing, we hear about it; it is a sure thing that if 13 white women were missing, be they of ill repute or not, the entire nation would know about it.
And yet, our people have horrible things that happen to them, and scarcely a word is said.
There is a need for us to be vigilant and to tell the stories ourselves. I firmly believe that we should not whine about what is “not,” but work to make a difference ourselves. In this age of the internet, and the “I reporter” phenomenon, there is no reason why our stories should not be getting out.
If the police will not look for our missing, and if the media will not cover stories about our missing, or, as in the case of Walter Currie, our injured and misused, then we ought to make sure the news gets out.
Of course, when there is something untoward that someone in the African American community has done, it’s front page news. The horrible story about the young African American mother who apparently sold her 5 year old daughter out as a prostitute, and who consequently ended up murdered, deservedly made the news.
And so did the story about John Allen Muhammad, who was executed last week for the people he randomly killed as the “DC Sniper,” make the news. I have no problem with that.
But so should reports of our missing women and children make the news. We count. Our children count.
The fact that the officials in Cleveland ignored the stench of death in a primarily African American neighborhood should be big news; there ought to be a big time investigation going on, and the results ought to be made public.
Like I said, we count.
The tendency of the media to focus only on the misfortunes of our community, while ignoring the tragedies that occur in our communities, is a travesty and professionally unforgivable.
I write this, again, to say that we need to care about our community enough, care enough about our women and our children to make sure the world knows about what is going on. If we don’t tell the stories, they will not be told.
That is obvious.
Rather than waste valuable energy, though, complaining, I say we look at our problems and issues and work to make a difference.
That is what we, I believe, as empowered Christians, are called to do.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Not Sad About Muhammad's Execution
The Pastor’s Page
I had a horrible spiritual struggle this week.
John Allen Muhammad, one of the so-called “DC Snipers,” was executed on Tuesday, and I found, to my horror, that I was not sad and I was not sorry.
I am opposed to the death penalty. I do not think it deters anyone from crime, nor do I believe it brings “closure” to the families of victims. Murdering one person, even if it is done legally, does not assuage the grief of another.
I also think that it is horribly criminal for a legal system to kill another human being. Murder is murder…which is why normally, I am sad, even to the point of being sickened, when someone is executed.
But this time I was not sad and I was not sorry. I would not have voted for Muhammad to be executed, but I was not sorry he had been.
I tried to explain my feelings to myself. I was angry at Muhammad, not only for indiscriminately killing 13 people over three weeks, but also for pulling in Lee Malvaux to help him, and also for thinking that killing people like he did would make it easier for him to kill his wife, and thus, get custody of his children.
The gall!
I did think about the fact that he leaves behind those very children who are probably very sad. They are sad that their father did what he did, and, even if he had not been the father they needed, that he has been killed. After all, he was their father.
And I did think of my normal response to the fact that people do heinous things: that they must be mentally ill and were never treated. In my mind, I just do not want to believe that people can do things like kill lots of people and not be sick. Normally, I argue that these people have probably been mentally ill since childhood and were never diagnosed, never treated.
I still believe that, and I think something was wrong with Muhammad. I think that in addition to maybe having been sick from the beginning, that illness was probably exacerbated by the time he spent in military combat.
But still, I was not sorry.
I heard one of the former police chiefs of Washington, D.C. say that what Muhammad did was calculating and planned, which it was. That being the case, he deserved to die, he said.
I found myself thinking that sick people can be manipulative and calculating. They can know the difference between right and wrong and not have the capacity to make right choices. I found myself arguing, internally, with this chief, saying he was being too hard. Nobody deserves to be murdered.
Then I stopped myself. How hypocritical. Here I was, not sorry and not sad that Muhammad was gone. I had no box to stand on, no legitimate perch from which to sing my song of self-righteous indignation.
I feel so bad about not being sad or sorry that Muhammad is gone that I have had to resort to deep prayer, asking God for forgiveness. It is up to God whether or not he wants to forgive me for this one. Theology has it that he will…
But God’s forgiveness notwithstanding, this week of wrestling with my feelings has humbled me, and has shown me a page of my soul that I had not before come across.
And no matter how hard I try, I still cannot say I am sorry or sad that Muhammad is gone.
I had a horrible spiritual struggle this week.
John Allen Muhammad, one of the so-called “DC Snipers,” was executed on Tuesday, and I found, to my horror, that I was not sad and I was not sorry.
I am opposed to the death penalty. I do not think it deters anyone from crime, nor do I believe it brings “closure” to the families of victims. Murdering one person, even if it is done legally, does not assuage the grief of another.
I also think that it is horribly criminal for a legal system to kill another human being. Murder is murder…which is why normally, I am sad, even to the point of being sickened, when someone is executed.
But this time I was not sad and I was not sorry. I would not have voted for Muhammad to be executed, but I was not sorry he had been.
I tried to explain my feelings to myself. I was angry at Muhammad, not only for indiscriminately killing 13 people over three weeks, but also for pulling in Lee Malvaux to help him, and also for thinking that killing people like he did would make it easier for him to kill his wife, and thus, get custody of his children.
The gall!
I did think about the fact that he leaves behind those very children who are probably very sad. They are sad that their father did what he did, and, even if he had not been the father they needed, that he has been killed. After all, he was their father.
And I did think of my normal response to the fact that people do heinous things: that they must be mentally ill and were never treated. In my mind, I just do not want to believe that people can do things like kill lots of people and not be sick. Normally, I argue that these people have probably been mentally ill since childhood and were never diagnosed, never treated.
I still believe that, and I think something was wrong with Muhammad. I think that in addition to maybe having been sick from the beginning, that illness was probably exacerbated by the time he spent in military combat.
But still, I was not sorry.
I heard one of the former police chiefs of Washington, D.C. say that what Muhammad did was calculating and planned, which it was. That being the case, he deserved to die, he said.
I found myself thinking that sick people can be manipulative and calculating. They can know the difference between right and wrong and not have the capacity to make right choices. I found myself arguing, internally, with this chief, saying he was being too hard. Nobody deserves to be murdered.
Then I stopped myself. How hypocritical. Here I was, not sorry and not sad that Muhammad was gone. I had no box to stand on, no legitimate perch from which to sing my song of self-righteous indignation.
I feel so bad about not being sad or sorry that Muhammad is gone that I have had to resort to deep prayer, asking God for forgiveness. It is up to God whether or not he wants to forgive me for this one. Theology has it that he will…
But God’s forgiveness notwithstanding, this week of wrestling with my feelings has humbled me, and has shown me a page of my soul that I had not before come across.
And no matter how hard I try, I still cannot say I am sorry or sad that Muhammad is gone.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Right and Wright
There is a difference between liberating truth and oppressive lies and vitriol.
This week, I listened to an interview of President Barack Obama’s campaign manager, David Plouffe. He has written a new book called, “The Audacity to Win.”
Every time someone uses that word, I bristle, especially when those people are part of the group that helped vilify Jeremiah Wright.
In his book, “The Audacity of Hope,” the president cited a sermon by that same title preached by his then-pastor, Jeremiah Wright. I remember that sermon. It was a masterpiece. It shared how African American people had the audacity to hope in spite of a nation, a culture and a religion that so actively worked against them.
The sermon was liberating truth. If the goal was to lift some of the burden of oppression off the shoulders of his listeners, Jeremiah Wright achieved that.
Pastor Wright’s sermons were typically like that. They were a fine blend of history, sociology and theology, an amazing mix that was able to penetrate minds, hearts and spirits of people who wanted and needed to know that God cared for them.
Never was there hatred preached against a people. The history of Africans in this country was told, but hearing that truth was liberating. It made oppression make sense, in a weird way. Being oppressed just because one was black didn’t work. Being taught the history helped us understand how oppression could thrive.
We could begin to move past that which we were beginning to understand.
Wright always taught us how the government was not for “the least of these.” The government was about money and power. That is true, always has been. We needed to be aware of the government’s role in our oppression if we were to know how to navigate through the mine-filled waters. Because at the end of the day, he would teach, oppression could not be the excuse for us not doing what God had equipped us to do.
Our ancestors died so that we would have the right to read. So, he taught, you’d better get your education.
Our ancestors died so that we could apply for jobs that had previously been closed to us because we were black. So, he told us, you had better go through the doors that had been opened to us.
Yes, it was audacious to think that we could overcome oppression, but, he taught us, our ancestors had done it, and their ancestors before them. Now, it was time for us to pick up the baton and look up. We were to look back only for what lessons we were supposed to use as we moved forward, but we were never to forget what the past had taught us.
It was liberating. In true prophetic form, Pastor Wright criticized the government, not only for being racist, but for its classism, its homophobia and its sexism. He taught us that we were not to be racist, homophobic, or stuck in classism. He was as hard on black folks as he was on white folks when it came to not living up to the life God demands of us.
He would not allow us to forget that the U.S. Constitution, the Bill of Rights, the Declaration of Independence – were all documents that professed to be “for the people.” This was a government that was supposed to be “of the people, by the people and for the people.”
We were not to forget that we were part of the “people” that the government was supposed to protect. We were to remember that God made no mistakes, and that we were as precious to God as were all of the other people God created.
In the end, his messages were about this God who did not condone bigotry or racism or sexism or homophobia or militarism or classism. This God, Wright taught, had an agenda for humankind that people on earth just did not understand, or if they did, just would not follow.
The people surrounding President Obama’s campaign did not understand any of this. They reacted to that 10 second sound bite. The talk show hosts were only interested in fanning the flames of dissent and hatred so that possibly, Mr. Obama would not be elected.
Limbaugh, Beck, O’Reilly, Hannity, Coulter … pride themselves on their Conservatism. What they say, though, has little to do with God, as opposed to Wright’s messages. In the Bible, God did say he would damn countries that did not follow God’s words and keep God’s covenant.
The word used over and over was “cursed.” Cursed be those who do not listen to God and do what God commands.
Why it is that intelligent people, news people, cannot take the time to separate the truth from the lies, why intelligent news people will not call out the hatred from the sources from which it is really coming, I do not know.
I do know, though, that Jeremiah Wright did not preach hatred. Someone needs to have the courage to say it.
I just did.
This week, I listened to an interview of President Barack Obama’s campaign manager, David Plouffe. He has written a new book called, “The Audacity to Win.”
Every time someone uses that word, I bristle, especially when those people are part of the group that helped vilify Jeremiah Wright.
In his book, “The Audacity of Hope,” the president cited a sermon by that same title preached by his then-pastor, Jeremiah Wright. I remember that sermon. It was a masterpiece. It shared how African American people had the audacity to hope in spite of a nation, a culture and a religion that so actively worked against them.
The sermon was liberating truth. If the goal was to lift some of the burden of oppression off the shoulders of his listeners, Jeremiah Wright achieved that.
Pastor Wright’s sermons were typically like that. They were a fine blend of history, sociology and theology, an amazing mix that was able to penetrate minds, hearts and spirits of people who wanted and needed to know that God cared for them.
Never was there hatred preached against a people. The history of Africans in this country was told, but hearing that truth was liberating. It made oppression make sense, in a weird way. Being oppressed just because one was black didn’t work. Being taught the history helped us understand how oppression could thrive.
We could begin to move past that which we were beginning to understand.
Wright always taught us how the government was not for “the least of these.” The government was about money and power. That is true, always has been. We needed to be aware of the government’s role in our oppression if we were to know how to navigate through the mine-filled waters. Because at the end of the day, he would teach, oppression could not be the excuse for us not doing what God had equipped us to do.
Our ancestors died so that we would have the right to read. So, he taught, you’d better get your education.
Our ancestors died so that we could apply for jobs that had previously been closed to us because we were black. So, he told us, you had better go through the doors that had been opened to us.
Yes, it was audacious to think that we could overcome oppression, but, he taught us, our ancestors had done it, and their ancestors before them. Now, it was time for us to pick up the baton and look up. We were to look back only for what lessons we were supposed to use as we moved forward, but we were never to forget what the past had taught us.
It was liberating. In true prophetic form, Pastor Wright criticized the government, not only for being racist, but for its classism, its homophobia and its sexism. He taught us that we were not to be racist, homophobic, or stuck in classism. He was as hard on black folks as he was on white folks when it came to not living up to the life God demands of us.
He would not allow us to forget that the U.S. Constitution, the Bill of Rights, the Declaration of Independence – were all documents that professed to be “for the people.” This was a government that was supposed to be “of the people, by the people and for the people.”
We were not to forget that we were part of the “people” that the government was supposed to protect. We were to remember that God made no mistakes, and that we were as precious to God as were all of the other people God created.
In the end, his messages were about this God who did not condone bigotry or racism or sexism or homophobia or militarism or classism. This God, Wright taught, had an agenda for humankind that people on earth just did not understand, or if they did, just would not follow.
The people surrounding President Obama’s campaign did not understand any of this. They reacted to that 10 second sound bite. The talk show hosts were only interested in fanning the flames of dissent and hatred so that possibly, Mr. Obama would not be elected.
Limbaugh, Beck, O’Reilly, Hannity, Coulter … pride themselves on their Conservatism. What they say, though, has little to do with God, as opposed to Wright’s messages. In the Bible, God did say he would damn countries that did not follow God’s words and keep God’s covenant.
The word used over and over was “cursed.” Cursed be those who do not listen to God and do what God commands.
Why it is that intelligent people, news people, cannot take the time to separate the truth from the lies, why intelligent news people will not call out the hatred from the sources from which it is really coming, I do not know.
I do know, though, that Jeremiah Wright did not preach hatred. Someone needs to have the courage to say it.
I just did.
Monday, November 2, 2009
A Convenient Definition of "Blight"
The Pastor’s Page
Every time I drive downtown and see the fences around City Center, I get mad.
It’s going to be demolished. It’s called “urban blight.” Something else, a park, I think, is going to be put in its place.
Meanwhile, blighted houses in poor neighborhoods are allowed to remain. They become havens for drug traffic, eyesores for the neighborhood, a danger to children, bringing down property values.
The city cannot just up and tear them down. There are laws, you know. And it seems that the absentee landowners know those laws, and do just enough to keep their property from being torn down, but they do nothing to improve that property and thus improve the quality of life for the people who live in the neighborhood.
But the City Center … ah, there’s blight that cannot be allowed to remain!
We don’t have enough money to take care of our neighborhoods, put more parks in our neighborhoods for our children, so they will have something to do other than run the streets. Budgetary concerns make it impossible for more recreation centers to be built. In fact, many of them are being shut down.
But the City Center … there’s enough money to make a park downtown. Or something.
This week there was also a report that several central Ohio hospitals are going to be building new facilities. There’s going to be a new heart hospital somewhere, and another cancer hospital.
The current structures just will not do.
Of course, there are no plans to build a new hospital on the city’s South Side. The people there are too poor. Someone said in a radio interview that the only patients a hospital on the South Side would have would be those on Medicaid, Medicare, or “no pays.”
“A hospital just cannot be sustained like that,” he said.
So, the new hospitals will be built, driving up health care costs, even while the debate about health care reform is going on. Oh yes, we the taxpayers will be paying for all this new construction – going on in the north side of the city.
What about the people on the South Side?
The poor people are always the ones least served. Profit-seeking ventures do not care a hoot about the “least of these,” nor do they treat their needs as “holy,” as Obery Hendricks says in his book, “The Politics of Jesus.” Poor people are taxed; you bet they had better pay their taxes “like everyone else.” But they are not cared for “like everyone else.”
I would not object to the City Center being torn down if I felt a passion on the part of city lawmakers to really deal with the real neighborhood blight in our city. I would not object to a lovely park in downtown Columbus if I saw the city trying to build more parks and recreation centers where there are kids standing around with little or nothing to do. It would seem …right … then. There would be some equity, and some real concern for the masses of people who help keep this city moving.
As it is, though, there is no equity. In the Book of Jeremiah in the Hebrew scriptures, it says in Chapter 8 beginning at verse 20: “The harvest is past, the summer has ended, and are not saved. Since my people are crushed, I am crushed. I mourn and horror grips me. Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there? Why then is there no healing for the wound of my people?”
There is no healing because we the people are far from God with our hearts. Otherwise, with the “blighted” City Center being torn down, some of these horrible properties would be coming down, too. With a passion.
Have a good week.
Every time I drive downtown and see the fences around City Center, I get mad.
It’s going to be demolished. It’s called “urban blight.” Something else, a park, I think, is going to be put in its place.
Meanwhile, blighted houses in poor neighborhoods are allowed to remain. They become havens for drug traffic, eyesores for the neighborhood, a danger to children, bringing down property values.
The city cannot just up and tear them down. There are laws, you know. And it seems that the absentee landowners know those laws, and do just enough to keep their property from being torn down, but they do nothing to improve that property and thus improve the quality of life for the people who live in the neighborhood.
But the City Center … ah, there’s blight that cannot be allowed to remain!
We don’t have enough money to take care of our neighborhoods, put more parks in our neighborhoods for our children, so they will have something to do other than run the streets. Budgetary concerns make it impossible for more recreation centers to be built. In fact, many of them are being shut down.
But the City Center … there’s enough money to make a park downtown. Or something.
This week there was also a report that several central Ohio hospitals are going to be building new facilities. There’s going to be a new heart hospital somewhere, and another cancer hospital.
The current structures just will not do.
Of course, there are no plans to build a new hospital on the city’s South Side. The people there are too poor. Someone said in a radio interview that the only patients a hospital on the South Side would have would be those on Medicaid, Medicare, or “no pays.”
“A hospital just cannot be sustained like that,” he said.
So, the new hospitals will be built, driving up health care costs, even while the debate about health care reform is going on. Oh yes, we the taxpayers will be paying for all this new construction – going on in the north side of the city.
What about the people on the South Side?
The poor people are always the ones least served. Profit-seeking ventures do not care a hoot about the “least of these,” nor do they treat their needs as “holy,” as Obery Hendricks says in his book, “The Politics of Jesus.” Poor people are taxed; you bet they had better pay their taxes “like everyone else.” But they are not cared for “like everyone else.”
I would not object to the City Center being torn down if I felt a passion on the part of city lawmakers to really deal with the real neighborhood blight in our city. I would not object to a lovely park in downtown Columbus if I saw the city trying to build more parks and recreation centers where there are kids standing around with little or nothing to do. It would seem …right … then. There would be some equity, and some real concern for the masses of people who help keep this city moving.
As it is, though, there is no equity. In the Book of Jeremiah in the Hebrew scriptures, it says in Chapter 8 beginning at verse 20: “The harvest is past, the summer has ended, and are not saved. Since my people are crushed, I am crushed. I mourn and horror grips me. Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there? Why then is there no healing for the wound of my people?”
There is no healing because we the people are far from God with our hearts. Otherwise, with the “blighted” City Center being torn down, some of these horrible properties would be coming down, too. With a passion.
Have a good week.
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