Phil Letizia

Monday, August 28, 2006

Sign of the Cross

This post today will be more informative than a commentary. I just find this story so interesting. In a way, I'm posting this story as a social expereiment. I can't wait to hear the comments and responses.

The concept of Church and State has been, and will continue to be an intensly divisive topic in our society. I must say however, I've never seen the line drawn quite like this.
It's no secret that racism is alive and well around the world.
It's surely no suprise that Europe really struggles with racism. Soccer matches have at times become the vehicle for racist fans to toss banana's at black soccer players. Religious tension has reared its ugly head as well.

The classic rivalry in Scottish Football, called the "Old Firm Game", between cross town rivals Celtic and Rangers, was the stage for what has become such a bazzar story. I'll let Joan McAlpine who writes for The Herald in Glasgow tell you the story:

Artur Boruc was born in the very year Solidarity took Polish workers on to the streets of Gdansk, so changing the course of European history. His parents no doubt told him what life was like before his birth in 1980, when puppet governments following Moscow's command tried to impose official atheism on the deeply religious country. Catholic priests were gagged, senior clergy placed under house arrest, convents raided and church magazines banned. But no-one was ever cautioned for making the sign of the cross.

We can only imagine what the ageing Lech Walesa will think of the news - surely playing big in Poland - that the young Celtic goalkeeper has been reprimanded apparently for blessing himself at an Old Firm game in February. The Crown Office now says the player was censured for other provocative gestures towards the crowd. But several days into the row, that sounds like a limp attempt at belated damage limitation. Comments by the player's agent suggest that the player believes he was cautioned over his blessing.

The message has already gone around the world: Scotland stamps on religious freedom. Footballers blessed themselves in both hope and trepidation each night during the World Cup finals. For many, it is as much an instinctive, superstitious sign as an expression of profound religious belief. It is all rather perplexing for those uninitiated in the ways of Scotland's west...

We know China persecutes adherents of Falun Gong, while Saudi Arabia, Iran and Pakistan have a poor record of tolerance towards non-muslim minorities. But Scotland? Have we really changed so little since the days of John Knox?- Joan McAlpine

For me, the interesting aspect of this story, is how introspective the coverage from so many of the writers covering the story. It almost seems as if they can't believe that's where they are. They're asking the question, "How did this happen to Scotland?" I don't know what their answer to that question should be, but I know when they find their answer, it's gonna be interesting.

Rosie Kane's comments from the Sunday Mail are just really good.

"From the U.S. to the Far East, bulletins reported how a Catholic footballer was accused of a crime for making the sign of the cross. And every time the story is retold it is explained how sectarian hatred is a scar on Scottish society. The image of Scotland being beamed around the globe is not one we can take any pride in. First Minister Jack McConnell once said that sectarianism was Scotland's "secret shame".

Well, whether you think Boruc is guilty of a crime or not, it is a secret no more. The whole world thinks we are a narrow-minded petty little nation. It is ironic this should happen as Rangers and Celtic make huge strides to get rid of the bigots.
And it shows an appalling lack of common sense and sensitivity by police and prosecutors. Did they really think for a minute that publicly humiliating Boruc was going to help either club's cause?"

Talk amongst yourselves. Discuss. Very interesting.

Thursday, August 17, 2006

Looking for Life in Haiti - Pt. II

When our team met Willio Joseph, pastor and founder of Orphanage on the Rock, he kept using a phrase that caught my attention. "There are so many Haitians, just wandering around, looking for life."

Looking for life.

I'm nervous about this post because I still don't have a handle on what we saw an experienced in Ouanaminthe. How can you communicate the desperation in the face of man, who lunges at another with a broken bottle, hoping to steal his slaughtered cow? When you see something like that with your own eyes, 10 feet in front of you, it messes with you. What do you say? How do you comprehend walking day after day, in a town where naked children constantly follow you, because they've never seen a white face before? As I walked through the market, ankle deep in black dirt, holding my breath so I wouldn't breathe the wretched smell of rotten food and animal waste, I wondered, "Can humanity fall any farther?"

If we believe the scriptures. If we take to heart the words of Moses in Genesis 1. That every man, woman, and child, has been created in the image of God... than how does it come to this? How can man live like this? All these beautiful children are reaping the sin, the neglect, the rejection of human life.

Being human, having the right to exist, is the beauty of creation. God in his infinite mercy, created humanity with the utmost dignity and worth. And when that's rejected. When human life is cast aside as just a means for survival. Then leaving a 2 year old-HIV positive-little boy in the woods is normal. This is your end. Haiti's end. Look around the world. When humanity isn't seen as the culmination and ultimate wonder of God's creation...

You end up like Haiti.

One day long ago, a man walked the road along the lonely places. To anyone elses' horror, he was stopped by a man whose skin was falling off. The man asked if he could make him clean. Unlike every other the man approached on this sparse road, this man answered, "I am willing." In an instant, with the touch of his hand, the soul of a man who had long since forgotten the feeling of another, suddenly found life. He was given his worth and dignity back with a single touch.

For 3 1/2 days we lived alongside these beautiful children, in living conditions no one should have to endure. It often seemed hopeless. How can a people redeem itself? How will they get their dignity back? They're looking for it, will they find life?

And then for a moment, you see it.
You catch it in the eye of a 4 year old boy, who smiles at you with everything a mischievous, wild eyed boy should. You notice it stops you every time. And though he coughs through the night with TB, you dare to hope, if he makes it, maybe, maybe, this land will find life.

Perhaps the man who walked along the lonely places for all of us. The man whose touch gives worth and dignity to the worthless. The perfect man whose death brings hope to those "looking for life," will call the orphans of this island to his side, and for the children of Haiti, be the father to the fatherless.

Tonight, 17 Haitian orphans sleep with love as their pillow, and contentment in their hearts.

May our redemption song find those who are looking for life.

For us, and the forgotten.

Saturday, August 12, 2006

Looking for Life in Haiti - Pt. I


Yesterday I returned from 6 days in Haiti. My plan is to give two postings on my trip. The first will be a detailed account of where we went, what we saw, and what we did, day by day. The second post will be my attempt at putting together my muddled and horrified thoughts on our journey, the beautiful children, and the seemingly impossible situation in Haiti. I eagerly await your feedback.

Sunday morning, August 6 - Miami - Sitting in the airport, waiting to board an airplane bound for Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic. Left my bag for literally 5 mins to buy a soda, and was greeted on my return to my belongings by 3 MIA security personnel who scolded me for leaving it. My fault, considering the times we live in. I sit, pondering whether or not I'm prepared to deal with what I might see in the next few days.

Late, Sunday night, August 6 - Dabajon, Domincan Republic - After arriving in Santo Domingo, where we met Willio Joseph, Pastor and leader of the Orphanage on the Rock in Ouanaminthe, Haiti, we embarked on a 5 hour drive through the DR, to the Northwest corner of the country, the border town of Dabajon. Tonight we actually sleep in a hotel with AC. The last we will see for a few days I'm sure. We found an old lady selling chicken and fried tostones on the side of the road. Bought all she had, hope I don't get sick. Tomorrow we cross the border.

Monday, August 7 - Ounaminthe, Haiti - This morning we drove through market day in Dabajon. Felt like a scene from "The Constant Gardener". People everywhere. Willio tells us on market days, mondays and fridays, Haitians can cross the border freely to buy and sell. I realized today, that "personal space", is an American invention. What they say about crossing the border of the Domincan and Haiti, is absolutely true. It's stunning the difference. As we arrived at the Orphanage in Ouanaminthe (actually a suare cement block hut/house), we were greeted by 18 Haitian orphans singing "welcome to you" in English. 20 people tonight will sleep in a 750 ft. square block house, no electric, no bathrooms, no running water. Lord, help me get through the night with the heat.



Tuesday, August 8 - Ouanaminthe, Haiti - Incredible. Today I saw things I never thought I would see. One of the most intense and amazing days of my life. We walked through the market in Ouanaminthe. Words can't describe what we saw there. Naked children everywhere you turn. Filth, selling anything to eat. Food sold, next to a 6 ft high pile of garbage 100 yrds long. What could I say to someone, for them to understand what we saw? How much more should we do for the poor in the states? They're not that far away. There's nothing like this. Keep us safe Lord.

Wednesday, August 9 - Ounaminthe, Haiti - Saw a man today pushing a slaughtered cow in a wheel barrel. Another man charged him with a broken bottle. Willio stepped in, stopped a murder on the streets of Ouanaminthe for a cow. This morning we drove with 15 of the kids in the back of a truck out to a place called, "the woods". About 20 miles outside the town on the road to Cape Haitian and Port Au Prince. Just one road. It's not a road. Drove for an hr and a half. to go 20 miles. Saw the countryside. Dirt. Saw a family of 7, no clothes, and our girls gave them the stuffed animals we brought them. Amazing compassion. Ate chicken today for lunch that i watched die at the hands of an older Haitian grandmother. Fresh. - After devotion tonight - we went on a night walk - two words: Voodoo Rally.

Thursday, August 10 - Ounaminthe, Haiti - Santo Domingo, DR - Preached on the fly to 50 Haitians today. Spoke from Luke 10. First time with a translator. Felt foolish. Humbled. Time to leave Haiti. We can hear the kids crying, sobbing as we walked away, one last time through Ouanaminthe. As we walk across the landbridge from Haiti to the DR, I'm struck by the drastic difference. Streets, sidewalks, business. Every child has clothes and shoes on. In Haiti they're naked and wandering. Take a 5 hr bus ride across the DR that cost only $10. - I end my trip to the island of Hispanola by drinking Presidente's in a crappy hotel bar, while speaking broken spanish to a cuban refugee, with Robbie Brumberg. Thats awesome.

Friday, August 11 - Santo Domingo, DR - Miami - drink a few more Presidente's for good measure. Fly Home.

- Thoughts in my second post coming tomorrow.

Thursday, August 03, 2006

sky horses

I’m no poet.
I don’t pretend to be.
I’ve just tried a few times.

The other poem
posted on this blog,
“the Gate Beautiful”,
was contributed to,
and severely edited by a friend.

This poem is based on the extraordinary events seen by Elisha and his servant, captured in the Old Testament, the book of 2 Kings 6:8-24.














sky horses
phil letizia, 2006

More blind and reckless a master could never be found
Obvious he shall not discern such a force, a Dothan select

My haste screams, “Oh, my Lord, what shall we do?”
I struggle to narrate the return to you
Sole horse and carriage, soon bring pain, a craze effect

Confounded he scalls we are greater than all
Gleeful with ease, his hands point to the luminary

Prayer lips speak to open mine red face
No cause or producer brought this taste
Steed adorned hills and blue with war they carry

Fools and rebels preach such empty myth
Unknown, can I insure the redeeming whirlwind forces?

Drawn white and gold, resplendent and steeled
Run over I succumb, my weakness revealed
Salem’s warriors alight, the triumph, the sky horses