Saint Matthew's

The entrance of Jesus into Jerusalem is a terrific way to begin a new church year. When we look at the entirety of the church year, this one act encapsulates the entirety of Christianity – Jesus entering Jerusalem to go to the cross to die for the sins of the world. Today’s Gospel reading sets our hearts not on the manger, but the cross.

It is the cross that opens up the church year and it is cross that leads us home, tying a beautiful bow on our last two weeks at church.

Yesterday, a friend of mine from NYC dragged me out of the house in the afternoon to go see the movie “Australia.” She wanted to see it, and considering that the last film we went to see together – “Solace of Quantum” – wasn’t too bad, I figured this one would be decent. I mean, how bad of a movie can it be? After finding a parking space at the mall (I should have taken the mile or so walk to the theater as a sign that God was telling me not to go see the film), we purchased our tickets and went inside.

This was nearly the worst movie I have ever seen. It was too long. The acting was sub-par (Nicole Kidman was terrible, terrible, terrible). The script was weak and predictable. And the narrator through the whole movie — please, Mr. Movie Producer, when you release the DVD, give people the option to turn it off!!

And it was nearly 3 hours long. They probably could have cut an hour and half out of it and it still would have been excessively lengthy.

I should have stayed home and watched football.

Christine and I don’t agree on much, but on this movie we were in lockstep. She turned to me as the closing credits started to roll and said, “That sucked.”

But the fun part – as we stood up, a small group of teenagers were sitting behind us. They were giggling through the film. I was actually happy that someone was having fun watching this garbage-fest. But I noticed the source of the fun as we stood up – one of the girls was putting a flask into her purse. Drunk teenagers on Thanksgiving weekend — never a good sign. Thinking back, I believe God was warning me that I should never go see another Nicole Kidman movie again.

And to punctuate that point: When we got to the end of our row, the teens were right behind us. As we snaked through the exit into the main corridor leading to the movie theater’s “foyer,” the teen male decided he need to throw up. Instead of pushing us over and running to the bathroom, King Pukey let it hurl…all over my shoes and the bottom of my right pants leg.

It could have been a message from God, or it could have been this young man’s reaction to the movie.

Either way, I got puked on.

Now, when I go to the hospital on pastoral care visits, vomit and blood are just a hazard, similar to water and sand traps that golfers face when out on the links. Yes, when golfers hit the ball, there is a chance they will hit it a little to the left, nailing the sand trap. With pastors, when we pick up a name at the pastoral care office desk and go visit, there is that outside chance we’ll pick a real winner.

But you don’t expect it in a movie theater.

Thankfully, the workers and the manager were very nice. They cleaned up my shoes and socks while I took care of the bottom of my pants leg. In the end, I received a re-entry pass for the theater.

I still have to buy new pants and shoes.

Oh, and the worst movie I ever saw?

“Grease 2.”

I still have the urge to sue the movie maker over that one. What made this movie worst of all? Not Michelle Pheiffer’s inability to sing or Adrain Zmed’s acting in general — I could have avoided it: I rented it.

Just to explain my post from earlier today:

Thanksgiving hasn’t been a favorite holiday of mine for a while. It seems that during the past 15, 20 years, Thanksgiving Day has routinely been a rather emotionally difficult or physically painful 24 hours. There have been Thanksgivings where I just wish the clock would speed forward through the parade, the football games, the dinner, the turkey-induced sleepiness, and just strike midnight.

I was hoping that this year would be much different. Truth be told, I wanted it to follow last year’s event, one that wasn’t so much eventful as it was staid. But it changed when I received a telephone call around 11:25pm on Thanksgiving Eve.

The night was going well. I didn’t go out like I did last year — this year, I wanted to do a little writing, something that I have been putting off for a long while. At one time, I was a prolific personal writer – filling up notebook after notebook with journals and short stories and outlines for novels. The short stories and the novel outlines weren’t very good, but to me they showed a creative side of my character. But over the course of time, from the start of seminary to now, my writing has fallen off considerably. My grammar is the pits. The creative flourishes that used to flow from my pen became drips. I stopped keeping a daily journal several years ago and started writing a “sporadic journal.” Writing just for the fun of it became more of a chore, and when that happens, writing loses its flair.

Last year, I was approached to write a novel based on something I had written years ago. There was no rush to start the project, but I found myself struggling to write anything. A few weeks ago, when I started this organizational kick, I made a commitment to write again. My start date was Thanksgiving Eve.  After church, I figured I could make a cup of tea and sit down with my pen and pad and create something magical.

Well, I wrote. It wasn’t magical. Maybe I need to let my mind expand a bit or allow it to escape the trappings of real life. Yet, I wrote last night. At around 11, I was feeling a little tired, so I went upstairs to the bedroom to listen to the radio and relax and eventually fall asleep.

Sitting in the recliner at around 11:25, my cell phone went off.

It was Danielle.

In April 2007, I met Danielle at – of all things – a community-based clergy meeting. Anyone who knows me knows that I loathe these interfaith meetings since, 9.9 times out of 10, they are a waste of time. Clergy people come together, share a bagel, and try to figure out all the ills to society. I would rather bang my head against the wall than sit through the insufferable blabber of people who don’t accept sin as a cause for society’s ills. I don’t remember why I went to this one – and I know it wasn’t because it was a local meeting, since it wasn’t – but I went.

Danielle was there as a member of the hosting Methodist congregation. We sat next to one another and hit it off. Over the next several weeks, we went to dinner, a Broadway musical, and a Yankees game.

We never took it further than that because of our religious differences. See, single Lutheran pastors do not date outside of the Lutheran species. Or to put it another way – single Lutheran pastors ONLY date single Lutheran women. Period. I wasn’t going to stop being a pastor just to say I was dating someone; she wasn’t going to stop being a Methodist. And that is where the relationship stood – we remained friends. If circumstances were different, say, where I wasn’t a Lutheran pastor, who knows what would have happened.

Since about June of 2007, we’ve remained fairly close. We’d talk every now and then about things in our lives. I became her spiritual sounding board and someone she could confide in. It was infrequent, but we’d meet for a drink in the city. One time, she even dragged me to a dance club (thankfully, there are no pictures). This past Monday, out of the blue she called to wish me “Happy Thanksgiving.”

I have never mentioned Danielle to anyone, though I may have hinted about her to some. So, if you’ve gotten this far in this post, you’ve learned something about this Lutheran pastor.

When my phone rang last night at 11:25, I was surprised that it was her. She told me on Monday she was going out partying last night, hitting a few bars in Rockland County. I picked up the phone and when I heard her on the other end, I got scared.

Her voice was teary. She couldn’t complete a sentence. She kept saying that she needed help. I was frantic, not knowing what in the world to do. Thankfully, someone came upon her and took the phone from her; he told me where they were. The gentleman said that Danielle was pretty beaten up. I told him to call 911.

What happened after this, I am not at liberty to divulge. In fact, Danielle’s family asked me not mention anything else.

But I have to say that when I saw Danielle early this morning, and knowing what happened to her, it has rocked me to my core. I haven’t been able to do much of anything today. I even skipped out on Thanksgiving dinner because I didn’t feel like staying.

My heart is shattered.

I am sad.

There are times in life where evil is just so prevalent. Yesterday’s terrorist attacks in India, for instance. Evil people killing the innocent.

But a terrorist bomb doesn’t just evidence the existence of evil. Sometimes, you can see its results in the lives of innocent people; not around the globe, but around your own community or just beyond.

Last night and early this morning, the images I witnessed will never be erased from my memory. Due to the sensitivity of the situation, I cannot mention what I witnessed or who I ministered to in the early hours of this Thanksgiving Day.

However, my heart has been ripped out after what I saw.

Now, as pastor, I’ve been involved with some serious situations in the past. These times I’ve seen the results of evil acts on the lives of innocent people, including little children.

Nothing prepared me for last night and early this morning.

When I arrived home at a little before 5am, I tried to get some sleep.

Impossible.

The images in my head are haunting.

My Thanksgiving Day 2008 is not one I want to remember. At 10am, I have to go and try to help those who were thrust into my life last night and this morning. Whether I and God can be of any help right now, I do not know. But I go in the name of the Lord to try and bring even the slightest amount of comfort and peace.

Peace.

After what I witnessed last night and this morning, peace is not something this world will ever experience in its fallen, sinful nature.

I will then go and pay my respects to my family and leave to come home. I am not in any kind of celebratory mood.

Usually it takes until sometime in December before I explode over this Christmas-Holiday thing. But this morning, after listening to the “Holiday” station on XM as I drove around, and then, in Target, being wished “Happy Thanksgiving and Happy Holidays,” my blood boiled over.

First, on Sirius XM Satellite Radio: The satellite radio company has a series of “holiday” stations that play only Christmas music. Yes, much of this Christmas music is contemporary, but their “religious” Christmas play list is very large. Yet, they call this music “holiday.” On the other side of this music ledger, they produce a station dedicated to Hanukkah music which they call “Radio Hanukkah.” Last year, when this station aired, I listened to it and enjoyed it. I have no issues with calling a station after a religious celebration.

However, I hate the fact that Sirius XM discriminates against Christians by relegating music celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ to just some plain old “holiday.”

It is not.

If they can use the word “Hanukkah” without ticking off other religions, then they should have the intensinal fortitude to say the word “Christmas.”

No one is getting Sirius XM Satellite Radio from me for Christmas. They are off my Christmas gift list (a list, by the way, which is purchased).

Second, don’t wish me anything when I walk out of any store. I don’t need some dopey person mouthing a politically correct “Happy Holidays!” line when they don’t care as to what holiday I am celebrating. This morning in Target, when the cashier mouthed that holiday wishes line, I asked her could she guess what holiday I was celebrating.

She said “Christmas.” I guess my pastor’s clothes gave it away.

I responded, “I celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ. Merry Christmas to you and your family. God be with you.”

Then I walked out.

My afternoon is a train wreck.

I have three meetings back-to-back. It seems that no one wants to hold a meeting on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. So they cram everything into the Tuesday before Turkey Day. And you know what?

I will be late for two of them today. Guaranteed lateness – one meeting ends 30 minutes after the other one begins.

Like I said – a train wreck.

Yesterday afternoon and evening, I met up with an old friend who works for a sports network out west. He was in town to finish up a story and reached out to meet up. I’ve known him for a few years — his father was (is?) involved with politics in New York City and through that association, the two of us met. He is a few years younger than me, but he had a journalism spark that intrigued me.

We met in the mid-afternoon for a late lunch (instead of dinner) and caught up. I was very excited that he has been able to accomplish a lot in his short career. Of course, like most sports journalists, he wants to get on the “big stage” on some national network. But right now, he is very content with his life.

Before the Phoenix Coyotes-New York Rangers game at the Garden, he walked me around his hotel and the Garden locker room, visiting some of his friends, co-workers, players, and coaches that he knows. For this hockey fan, I tried my best not to gawk (or to drool, in one instance). Whenever he introduced me, he said “I’d like you to meet a friend, Father Anthony Iovine,” to which I consistently retorted, “I’m a Lutheran pastor.”

And, of course, the response was always, “Good afternoon/evening, Father.”

It made me giggle.

There were two points in these quick introductions where I was asked to go off to the side “to talk.” One time, I was asked into a hotel room for a chat. When we watch sports stars, politicians, or anyone on television or read about them in the newspaper, we never see them for who they truly are. We receive a jaded public persona, one that either they want the public to see or what the journalist or commentator wants their readers to see. One of the gentlemen I spoke with last night, someone who I hold in extremely high regard (hence my earlier “drool” comment), poured out his heart over a difficult situation he was facing in his non-sports life.

As a pastor on-call 24/7 (I don’t just work on Sundays), we spoke for a short time over a very personal matter. It was a moment that I will not forget. He just let it all out. In the end, he smiled and thanked me for my help. We ended up exchanging telephone numbers and he promised he would call to update me on how he was doing. But the coolest thing — we shared a bottle of Vitamin Water. You don’t know tempted I was to dive into the garbage to take out the two paper cups and auction them off on E-bay.

My other pastoral care moment came in the locker room before the start of the game. It was just a short conversation, but as in my earlier meeting, I pray our time helped in some way.

As for the game, I saw the first period. The Rangers were a little slow at kicking it into gear. However, we had to run — my friend asked me if I would drive him to the airport; that meant leaving the Garden after the first 20 minutes of the game. Oh, we first had to go get a slice of cheesecake, something my friend says he really misses about New York. His flight was delayed – surprise. So I spent a little time with him at the airport “discussing” the Giants and the Yankees (he violently hates both teams), and talking about his recent breakup with his longtime girlfriend (the real topic I think he wanted to talk about all night, but was afraid to mention it).

When I started out yesterday afternoon, I thought I was going to dinner, see a hockey game, and maybe get a drink with an old buddy, all very personal acts.

In the end, my time was very pastoral where I hope I helped a few others.

After my dreams were dashed yesterday when a listening party to hear the new Guns N’ Roses album was canceled, I had every intention of using my newly found time last night to rest. There was also part of me that wanted to rent a movie – either pay-per-view on DirecTV or through Apple TV. However, I ended up settling down to watch the New York Knicks against the Milwaukee Bucks.

But then…

The phone rings two minutes before halftime.

I noticed the name on the Caller ID – a Newark hospital. I pick up the receiver and say, “Hello.”

After listening to a story from the gentleman on the other end, I ended up traveling to Newark to visit with his wife who was dying of cancer. It turned out that I met this man while at the Bergen County Jail several months ago. We were both visiting people. As we waited, we got into a conversation that I cannot completely recall. In the end, I gave him one of my business cards and told him to give me a call if he needed to talk.

Last night, after sitting with his dying wife all day Friday, he called me. He needed to talk. He need God.

I drove down to visit with him and his wife. We talked for a while about what it means to have faith in God, faith in Jesus Christ. While their minister spent time with them yesterday, they still felt lost. I was a last resort. After a few hours of talking and listening to him sing some religious songs, I saw a smile come across her face.

God touched them.

I left in the early Saturday morning hours with the both of them holding onto Christ and knowing that His love for them is real. He is there to comfort.

God touched them.

And me, as well. For all the complaining I do about my hectic schedule, it is these times that remind me how God works through me. Praise Him!

This has been one of those weeks.

Six consecutive days of being worn out.

And it’s not over.

As I sit in my bedroom right now, I am kind of thankful that a listening party I was going to attend tonight for the new Guns N’ Roses album was canceled. I have the depleted Knicks on the TV (and when I write depleted, that’s a good thing after making two terrific, forward thinking trades) while flipping through email and issues that need addressing.

Yes, I was going to a party where the new 17-years-in-the-waiting Guns N’ Roses album was to be played. It may not sound exciting, but it was something to do. Instead, I listened to most of the album on MySpace.

However, I am home. Resting. And getting ready for another busy day tomorrow.

Ugh.

For some reason, the cleaning bug came over me this morning. After church, I came into the office and started “straightening” things out. I have become a “No Clutter” person every since I started my little organization kick several weeks ago.

I just hope our church secretary doesn’t completely slaughter me for moving nearly everything around…

Someone I know paid a quick visit this morning. He was in the area heading off to a meeting in Mahwah. When he walked into the parsonage and into the home office, he asked me that most probing of questions:

“Anthony, is everything alright?”

He didn’t ask because he thought I was ill. No, he asked because he saw that the office was in “working shape.” In fact, his second question was funnier:

“Why is everything neat?”

He was quite surprised that I had actually organized most of the house. I’ve lived like a pack rat for a number of years now, especially in the year or so before I headed off to seminary. Then I had to move so much during my seminary time, I just got completely used to living out of boxes and piles.

As I mentioned over the weekend, I just got of living out of boxes and piles. Now I am about 75% organized here at home; about 80% in church. After a little clean up in my church office tomorrow, I should be near 90%. My home life is coming along slowly, but it is getting better organized each day.

I was struck today by an article below the fold in the Wall Street Journal: Apparently a rather important Islamic scholar in Germany believes that Mohammed, the man who established the Muslim faith, never existed.

Apparently, there is a slow growing movement that believes that the name “Mohammed” is more of a title, not the name of a particular person. Instead, these scholars believe that Islam is actually just a Christian heresy.

Professor Sven Mohammad Kalisch, a Muslim convert and the first professor of Islamic theology in Germany, has shocked and stunned the Muslim community. Of course, German police believe this public belief has put Kalish on a sort of Muslim hit list  – but then this regularly happens to people to say bad things about Mohammed. Remember the Danish artist who  drew cartoons that made fun of Mohammed? Riots broke out around the world.

For Christians, this whole idea that our religion is a fabrication is not new. People have questioned the deity of Jesus Christ and His very existence since He was born. However, from what I have studied, there have been no riots promoting death to the infidels, especially lately when Jesus has been mocked in movies, on Broadway, and on TV shows.

OK. There have been some protests. But really, no one has gotten scared over a bunch of moms and dads or a group of priests holding signs outside of MTV in Times Square.

Kalisch is the first “important” Muslim scholar to doubt the core of the faith. In Islam, Mohammed’s existence and his receiving the Koran are central to what Muslims believe. By kicking out the step-stool of this religion, Kalisch is opening up a door to questioning everything about the faith.

Contributing last year to a book on Islam, he weighed the odds and called Muhammad’s existence “more probable than not.” By early this year, though, his thinking had shifted. “The more I read, the historical person at the root of the whole thing became more and more improbable,” he says.

He has doubts, too, about the Quran. “God doesn’t write books,” Prof. Kalisch says.

Of course, God doesn’t write books, especially the Koran. Instead, we Christians believe that writers who were inspired by God wrote the books of the Bible.

But Kalisch has opened a door that will invoke outrage and possibly further study on Mohammed and the Islamic religion.

If you’ve come to church recently (and if you haven’t, why not????), then you’ve heard me discuss my recent conversion to organization. Yes, I admit it — I’ve been a hoarder, a pack rat, a pile creator, a messy desk person. When people have asked to use my desk – either at home or in church – they’ve gotten scared. They didn’t know what stuff to push off to the side in order to use the desk.

I had piles all over the place. Bills, receipts, newspaper or Internet articles, unopened mail, or just plain junk — all of it, piled up, all ready to topple over.

Then came October 27th and the article in the Wall Street Journal outlining a Japanese organization technique, originally crafted for manufacturing but now has found its way into offices and personal lives, called “5S.”

Essentially, this technique promotes the notion that if someone doesn’t need a particular item, it is to be either filed away or thrown out. In manufacturing, you would only have those items that were needed available for the workers, and everything else would be in storage or in the recycling bin. The manufacturing floor would be cleaned everyday and all items would be neat.

In the office, the same technique is used. For example, if you do not need a particular file, why have it on your desk? Or if you’re not going to use it, why have it near you? Why not file it into storage? Or even better, digitally file it away in order to reduce storage space?

The article made me think.

In its usage, “5S” uses five distinct processes to create an organized workplace, which also can be adapted to a personal home life, creating an organized home. Those areas are as follows:

Sort: Figure out what you need and what you don’t need; red tag questionable items to be figured out later; be ready with a lot of garbage bags.

Straighten: Make your work area accessible and easy to understand. Put things that you use regularly near your, keeping everything organized in their proper area. This promotes work flow. For example, if you’re working at home at your desk, you would want pens and paper nearby, not coupons for pizza.

Shine: After sorting all your stuff and straightening your desk or work area out, clean it up….everyday.

Standardize: Make sure that your previous efforts weren’t for naught — create an organized work schedule to make sure the above are rolled into your normal work life.

Sustain: After all that work, you have to keep it going.

So far, I am slowly creating this environment at home and at church. My desk in church is neat. It has to be. With only my iMac, back-up drive, telephone, a statue of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, and a Don Mattingly figurine painted in a Cubs uniform on my desk, it is pretty neat.

At home, I am slowly building to this. My living areas are almost in this organized condition. The home office is still a disaster, but it is a 5S disaster. I am in the sorting process. Thank goodness for sanitation workers hauling off all my recyclables and non-recyclables.

I will let you know when this process is complete. If you want to see my desk, you have to come to church.

Over the past couple of months, I have purchased dress socks from two places – Macy’s and Wal-Mart. The socks, as you would guess, cost considerably more at Macy’s than they did at the great American store, Wal-Mart.

However, the Macy’s socks either weren’t constructed properly or that the material that went into the socks was defective or shoddy.

Each of the four pairs of socks purchased at Macy’s has developed holes in them.

I bought them in September.

I keep my toe nails clipped.

Why should I have holes in these socks???

Each pair, in at least one sock, has a hole in the toe area. I have two usable socks left out of the 8.

However, from the four pairs I purchased at Wal-Mart, no holes. They fit wonderfully to this day. These 4 pairs for $5.00 socks were worth every penny.

Sorry. Had to vent.

Being at the movies when the clock strikes midnight is not something I long for, especially to sit in a packed movie theater in New York City to watch a movie I could see at 11am at the Garden State Plaza. However, when a friend asked me to join her this morning at this opening showing of “Quantum of Solace,” I couldn’t say “No.”

Before the movie, we went to a Cuban restaurant for dinner and to a bar for a drink before settling in to our rather comfortable seats for the latest James Bond flick. At the bar, the Jets game was on the tube, and with her being a Jets fan, her eyes were fixated on Brett Favre and Gang Green. We didn’t get to see the ending since we were off to the subway to get to the movies, though I was happy to hear that the Jets beat the Patriots.

I don’t know what I was looking for “Quantum of Solace.” While I like James Bond, I am not a diehard Bond fan. The remake of “Casino Royale” was spectacular, so I guess I was looking for the movie to be in that vein. To my surprise, most of the movie surpassed what I was looking for, though the ending wasn’t as spectacular as I was expecting, especially as the movie unfolded.

What I needed was to watch “Casino Royale” before heading to the theater. It would have helped me a lot in understanding and remembering some of the nuances that linked the films. For a diehard Bond fan, I think they are going to just love this film.

What I didn’t like — the new Bond song. It was blah. Maybe I still harbor those old Sheena Easton “For Your Eyes Only” fantasies where the song so completely tied into the movie and wanted something like that. For me to write something bad against Alicia Keys, who sang the song, is not easy because I love Keys music. But this Bond song, it just didn’t do it for me.

UPDATE: Yes, I know – the Keys song is a duet with rocker Jack White. However, to me, it is a Keys song. And yes, I know that this is the first Bond film that is not based on a novel. And yes, I know that one can see this missing element in the film. And a final yes, I know that Bond is more “Jason Bourne” in this film than in previous movies; but that is what happens when a movie is based primarily on a screenplay versus a movie screenplay based on a book. In the end, I liked the movie.

But I did get a feeling after watching this movie — I want to go to Italy.