City – Page 3 – Marilyn R. Gardner

Reaching Beyond the Garbage

Published on September 29, 2014 by Marilyn5 Comments

Visitors to places like Cairo or Karachi often come back and talk about how incredibly filthy the streets are. They are struck by the waste that is everywhere, an ever-present result of masses of humanity living closely together combined with a poor or non-existent infrastructure to deal with the trash.

It’s not only cities like Cairo or Karachi. It’s a problem all over the world in urban settings.

Take the city of Cambridge where we live, a wealthy city. Unlike our suburban home, where a well-kept and swept sidewalk bordered on a pristine yard and led to the front door, the city is shared space. It doesn’t matter how much we may sweep and clean our space, it is used by others in our building and subject to their footsteps, habits, and trash.

In cities you have to deal with garbage. And sometimes a lot of it.

The garbage is all around after a busy weekend of events, traffic, and people. The garbage multiplies as services like street cleaning and trash day are suspended during a holiday weekend. Only minutes after being picked up there will be more trash on the ground.

Because where there are humans there is garbage. Inescapable garbage.

But where there are humans there is also the presence of God. In the midst of the pristine cleanliness of suburbia where garbage is well-hidden behind white fences and beautiful gardens, and in the midst of the city where garbage spills out over dumpsters and trash cans– God is there. He is there and he is active. He is there and he is searching for people stuck in the garbage.

“We do not worship a deistic God, an absentee landlord who ignores his slum; we worship a garbageman God who came right down into our worst garbage to clean it up. How do we get God off the hook for allowing evil? God is not off the hook; God is the hook. That’s the point of a crucifix.” Peter Kreeft

This is my hope on this Monday. That somehow I’ll be one who sees the people beyond the garbage. That I’ll reach into the unreachable and extend grace.

“Stay where you are. Find your own Calcutta. Find the sick, the suffering, and the lonely right there where you are — in your own homes and in your own families, in your workplaces and in your schools. You can find Calcutta all over the world, if you have the eyes to see. Everywhere, wherever you go, you find people who are unwanted, unloved, uncared for, just rejected by society — completely forgotten, completely left alone.” Mother Teresa

Grow Up Boston!

Published on August 8, 2014August 8, 2014 by Marilyn13 Comments

It’s been a long time since I’ve had a rant. After an experience yesterday with a woman on the street, in tears because of how she was treated by this ‘city on a hill’ I wrote this. It may sound harsh but I mean every word of it!

Grow Up Boston!

Every day I walk your streets, ride your buses and subways, go to your stores. Every day I am a part of the fabric, a thread in the tapestry that is Boston. Every day I work in your buildings, shop in your stores, interact with your homeless.

I am a part of you and you in turn have become a part of me.

And in so many ways I love you. You have so much potential, so much personality, so much fun.

But Boston — I’m tired. I’m tired of having immigrants come up to me on the street, complete strangers, and cry. I’m tired of the Boston stink-eye, I’m tired of the general meanness. I’m tired of crowded subways where the blind and lame are regularly jostled, pushed, and frowned upon. I’m tired of your arrogance.

Boston — you need to grow up. You need to realize — it’s not all about you.

Did you hear that? It’s not all about you.

Public Gardens and View of Newbury Street through a store window

When the bombs went off at the Boston Marathon the nation wept for you, the world cried. There was support from around the globe, from the young and old, the small town and the big city. When you have a tragedy the world weeps with you, but you don’t weep with the world. Ever. Because, like a toddler, so egocentric in her development, you only think about yourself.

You boast so much: history, beauty, an ocean, a river, world-famous educational institutions, great food, amazing medical facilities, and more grey cells than we could count. You are Boston Strong with sports teams, and stamina, and guts. But you also boast grumpy people, arrogance, intolerance made more galling because it’s by those who consider themselves so tolerant.

You are creating a culture that despises the old, the feeble, the blind, the refugee, the immigrant. A culture that sits back and does nothing when a disabled, man in a wheelchair falls down and is mocked by a group of high school students. You cater so well to the student, to the ‘twenty something’ yet you have made them so all-important that they fail to understand the bigger picture of life and they are mean right along with you. You are creating a culture of ‘me first’ and ‘no one else matters.’ A culture where no one is given the benefit of the doubt. A culture where immigrants cry to total strangers on street corners, so lonely and attacked they feel.

“I’ve lived other places” they say “Nowhere is it so mean!” “There’s always an excuse for why they’re mean — it’s morning, it’s cold, it’s rainy, it’s hot. Well it’s rainy and hot in other places too and they aren’t like this.” “I’m so lonely I could weep.” “I’ve lived here 12 years and still I wonder — will I ever belong? Will I ever feel like people are okay with me?” These are real words Boston, spoken by real people who live in your city and walk on your streets.

You have a hard heart Boston and it needs to soften. You are immature and you need to grow up.

You are so proud of your achievements — first in the nation to have health care access, first to have gay marriage. You are so proud, but you forget the basics — like kindness, honor, respect, and compassion.

Will you stay a toddler forever? Proud of your baby steps but never realizing there are other steps to take, a bigger world to learn, or will you grow up to be the adult, the adult who makes a difference in the world?

Will you ever, can you ever really be the proverbial “city on the hill?”

Tomorrow I will again walk your streets and love your beauty. And I will hope again that someday you will see the other side, the side that we who are ‘other’ see.

I Cross to the Other Side

Published on July 9, 2014July 9, 2014 by Marilyn3 Comments

At 6:30 in the morning Central Square has already been awake for hours. Stale pools of water with some left over garbage cover the brick side-walk in a low lying area, a result of heavy rains from last week that have not yet evaporated. Pigeons flock to the water enjoying an unexpected pool, loudly arguing about who splashes first.

My husband arrived back from Turkey last night and we talked late into the night resulting in a worthwhile fogginess. So on this Wednesday my mind is buzzing with both the noble and the mundane.

I arrive downtown and I purposely choose to get out on a different side of the subway. Because today I don’t want to see Valerie and know that she is still homeless. Because today I don’t want Donald asking me for spare change.

I am the Priest and the Levi of the Good Samaritan story – I cross to the other side.

Is it ever okay to cross to the other side? Is it ever okay to purposely choose to avoid the unpleasant? Is it ever okay to ignore disparities?

I don’t think it is, but I do it. I could give all manner of excuses, I could explain myself away, I could tell you that it really doesn’t make a difference. And maybe it doesn’t — but maybe it does.

I cross to the other side because I have no solutions. I cross to the other side because I am tired. I cross to the other side because there is no inn to take people to.

Maybe it’s not about having solutions or an inn. Maybe it’s about just showing up and saying ‘hi’; acknowledging the humanity of another person who struggles. Maybe it’s about early morning solidarity and knowing I share these streets, this neighborhood with the homeless, the crazy, the suits and ties, the little black dress, the vendor, the street musician, the fruit man, the tourist. Maybe it’s about being present among people and proclaiming a faith in the midst of this beautiful, broken world.

But all that comes to me after I cross to the other side.

What do you do when you cross to the other side?

On Lovers’ Quarrels, Crazy People & Early Morning Grace

Published on April 14, 2014April 17, 2014 by Marilyn7 Comments

homeless sometimes in the city

The following was written at the end of March.

The wind almost blew me down the street. It was bitter cold and came with a force. The proverbial March lion was not going out as a lamb, instead it continued to roar with sub degree temperatures and cold winds.

Hopping off the subway at my early morning hour I came across a lovers’ quarrel. Voices were raised in accusation, frustration, and anger. Like many couples, one was trying to hush the other, embarrassed for the scene.

And like many quarrels, it wasn’t working. Instead, the arguments grew louder and more forceful.

The world – it doesn’t get easier. My senses are alert to pain and brokenness; to lover’s quarrels and severed relationships.

It’s these moments in the city — the moments when lover’s quarrels, homeless veterans, and broken people remind me that I need grace. Every day. Every minute. It is these moments when Valerie asks for money instead of coffee, because she wants to buy black pants and a white shirt – her “interview uniform” she calls it. It’s these moments where I look at the faces surrounding me and every one of them has a furrowed brow. We are the people of the furrowed brows.

And then there are those early morning moments where I pass someone and immediately think “God, be with the crazy people.” and then I immediately follow it by the Jesus Prayer because I know there is such a fine line between the crazy people and me.

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, Have Mercy on Me.

And in these early morning moments it’s so clear we can’t do this without grace. I can’t do this without grace.

This world overwhelms, Jesus offers the only solution.

Heaven meets earth on a Sunday morning and the body and the blood offer grace. Earth meets Heaven on a Monday morning, begging for restoration. Sunday will transition to Monday until the end of time. But the one who gifts us with time will ever offer grace.

***************

Did you ever think about how muffins can be such grace? This morning it hit me — Stacy’s creativity is grace for me every Monday. She says this about today’s muffins “This week’s muffin is going to be a variation on the British traditional Easter simnel cake, made into muffins and decorated with marzipan balls to represent the apostles.” Head here to get the recipe for Easter Simnel Muffins

Apples and Mondays

Published on March 10, 2014September 18, 2017 by Marilyn2 Comments

Mondays are not easy for me.

For some, Mondays are a new start — kids go back to school, the counter is wiped clean, there is space and time.

For others, Mondays are perhaps like mine. They are a reminder of my disparate existence, a reminder that even as I cocoon myself in a home with warmth and white lights there is a world out there that can’t be ignored. A world where I smell pot at 6:45 in the morning as I come out of the subway. A world where Mary warns me yet again to “Be careful up there!” A world where I can smell the alcohol from 10 feet away on the breath of someone I regularly communicate with.

And that’s how this Monday began. Except for an apple. A bright, red, beautiful apple.

A man who couldn’t have been older than 25 dressed in business clothes was seated next to a woman who had all her household goods in a shopping cart. Only her face and eyes peeked out from a coat that was too big for her. The man was white and the woman was black. The contrast between privilege and poverty was stark. And then he reached into his bag and brought out an apple and he gave it to her. There was no drama. I was the only one sitting across from them and I doubt anyone saw the act except me. As they made eye contact, she smiled her gratitude through dark brown eyes and they exchanged greetings. A conversation started that was over almost as soon as it began – but at least it started.

It was so small but it felt so big.

I know there are those who would be cynical about this. A young, white man with everything takes pity on a black woman with nothing. But it didn’t feel like that. It seemed redemptive for both, certainly for me.

Much is written on privilege and recognizing privilege. In this, the act of giving an apple, it felt like a young man who knows his own privilege wanted to reach over that division into the life of someone who would be easy to ignore, easy to dismiss. It seemed thoughtful and without guile.

So an apple and a Monday help me to reach across the Sunday – Monday division believing that redemption happens in small ways all around me.

__________________

Stacy’s recipe this Monday combines my all-time favorite liqueur with one of my all-time favorite foods. This combo is called Stacy’s Bailey’s Irish Cream Muffins. (Actually, I added the ‘Stacy’s’ to the title.) I cannot wait to try these! May the Irish among us rejoice!

Rules for Using Boston’s Transit System

Published on January 29, 2014 by Marilyn11 Comments

Rules for Using Boston’s Transit System by one who knows.

Welcome to our fair city! There are a couple of things you need to know should you decide to utilize our ‘world-class‘ transit system.

1. Always sit in the handicapped space. Otherwise it’s just going to sit there empty and who really cares if someone who is handicapped gets on. It’s not your fault! So yes, sit in that space and don’t move, no matter who gets on the train or bus!

2. Do not smile. Just don’t. If you do people will think that:

You are crazy
You are a tourist
You have something wrong with your facial muscles. So just don’t do it.

3. Don’t talk. Just don’t. To show such enthusiasm for life is just plain not done. If you have to say something, whisper it quietly.

4. Do not shoulder surf. Shoulder surfing can be defined as looking over the shoulder of the person you are sitting beside to read whatever they’re reading. This is not allowed. If you do it, then your seat mate will clutch their newspaper or book close to their heart and give you a look. You don’t want the look.

5. Don’t sit beside someone if there is anyway you can avoid it. Head to the seat with a space beside it. If you sit down and have an empty seat beside you, make sure that you put your big, fat bag or briefcase down so that no one sits beside you. You do not want someone to sit beside you.

6. Do not make eye contact. You will regret it as soon as your pupils meet the pupils of another. If you do happen to make eye contact, look quickly away as though it never happened. This is best.

7. Do not help people. This is just stupid. You may find yourself a minute late for work and that is ridiculous. All for helping someone?? Don’t do it, just don’t help.

8. Make sure you push forward if there is someone lame or blind in front of you. It’s not your fault that they are lame or blind and besides, they need to just get out of your way already.

9. Do not thank people. This is just unnecessary.

10. Do not ask directions. There are signs for god’s sake! Just look at the signs. It’s not right to bother the rest of us with your silly questions when you could just look at the sign above you with all the squiggly lines and figure out where you are and where you’re going.

As always, thank you for riding public transportation and helping to reduce traffic congestion and pollution!

You’re welcome.

A Thing to be Grasped

Published on November 21, 2013November 21, 2013 by Marilyn8 Comments

Number_1_MBTA_bus_route

The MBTA Number 1 bus plods its way down Massachusetts Avenue all the way to Dudley Square Station. Traveling on this bus is not for the faint of heart, the city hater, or the one who likes order. Along the way it picks up everyone from world-class musicians heading to Berklee College of Music, to the chronically ill, on their way to Boston Medical Center, to the Back Bay city dweller, ready to spend an evening at the symphony.

And the trip is never without a story. It’s a cross spectrum of humanity, all meeting in this enclosed space. As I travel on the Number 1 bus, I am struck by how important it is to see humanity in this way.

The Number 1 bus is no respecter of persons. It doesn’t matter how rich, how poor, how smart you are. You’re just another one of us, crowded in to a space where 10 different languages are spoken. Every age group is represented from teen moms with babies to old Haitian grandmothers, and every shade of skin color from pale white with freckles to deep brown with dark eyes.

Periodically fights erupt and someone comes forward as peacemaker. At other times a person’s behavior strikes everyone as so comical that there is muffled laughter and nods of understanding.

I don’t pretend to know the mind of Christ, but I think he would like this bus. I think he would use this bus to engage people and dig into their current reality, to heal the sick, to open the eyes of the blind, to change the bigoted, to encourage the teen mom. He would move over and give his seat to the man struggling to stand, would help the woman lift her heavy bags of oranges off the floor.

I think he would see this as a microcosm of the world, in language, color, and brokenness. His eyes, alight with compassion, would be always looking for a way to help.

When I’m riding the bus the verse that comes to mind is from the book of Philippians where Paul is urging the church to “Have this attitude in yourselves which was also in Christ Jesus, who although he existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself”.*

I’m struck by how often I’m struggling to grasp for equality, better still struggling to be ‘greater than’. And this fighting to be equal or more? It is exhausting. Yet I’m told with surety that Christ Jesus did not do this. He ‘emptied’ himself.

There is something about this Number 1 bus that helps me empty myself. In that sweaty, enclosed space – too hot in winter from stifling heat and too cold in summer from artificial air conditioning — I understand that I am just one of millions in this world, no better, no stronger, no greater. Just one of the millions that needs the light of Christ and the hope of a Gospel message.

Just one on the Number 1 bus, that needs Jesus, his eyes alight with compassion, always ready to help.

*Philippians 2:5-7a

Reblog from DL Mayfield – Silver and Gold

Published on August 11, 2013August 11, 2013 by Marilyn1 Comment

This piece is long. And it is worthy of its length. It is one of the best pieces I have recently read in its beauty, conviction and clarity. I encourage you to get a cup of tea or coffee and head to DL Mayfield’s blog and read the entire piece. Maybe even twice.

I seek an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away, and it is laid up in heaven, and safe there, to be bestowed, at the time appointed, on them who diligently seek it.” – The Pilgrim’s Progress, John Bunyan

^^^^^

The poor are ugly.

They are not demur widows in biblical robes graciously accepting alms from pastel saints. They are young black mothers in pajama pants at the grocery store. They are old white men with no teeth and pornography habits. They are hardened teen alcoholics, gangbangers, pedophiles, strippers, con men, shtarkers, pimps, inveterate liars and parents perpetuating the very cycles of generational suffering that once shaped them. They are the children of God turned old before their time by oxycontin addictions, botched abortions, and personality disorders. They’ve never heard of Pitchfork, they don’t know what selvage denim is, and they don’t care about your organic produce. They live hand to mouth and, my God, do they suffer……read the rest of the piece here