As farmers and laborers, Issei (first generation) in California often rebuilt sangha (community) in rural areas, such as Guadalupe and San Luis Obispo. At the center of these communities was their faith.

Buddhist Churches of America (BCA), the American branch of the Nishi Honganji sect of Jodō Shinshū, was established in the early 1900s, following the arrival of priests from Japan and the construction of many temples. These temples served as conservators of Japanese culture. 

During World War II, Japanese Americans were uprooted from their homes and communities and forced into internment camps, where they were detained from 1942 until 1946.

Due to the pandemic, religious institutions have undergone restrictions and have held limited services.

However, despite the ongoing pandemic, discrimination, and even accultural alterations, on California’s Central Coast, Japanese-American cultural legacies and the Pure Land Buddhist Faith remain preserved.

Guadalupe Buddhist Church. Guadalupe, CA. Sunday, May 2, 2021. Photo by Savannah Daniels

Historic photos of a former monshu (chief priest) Sokunyo Shōnin and wife Noriko Tanaka in Guadalupe Buddhist Church. Guadalupe, CA. April 18, 2021. Photo by Savannah Daniels

Sensei (Reverend) Naomi Seijo Nakano preparing the altar for Sunday service at Guadalupe Buddhist Church. Guadalupe, CA. April 18, 2021. Photo by Savannah Daniels

Portrait of sensei (Reverend) Naomi Seijo Nakano at Guadalupe Buddhist Church. Guadalupe, CA. Sunday, May 2, 2021. Photo by Savannah Daniels.

The Collected Works of Shinran Volume 1, the writings and teachings of Jodō Shinshū Buddhism founder, Shinran Shonin, in Guadalupe Buddhist Church. Guadalupe, CA. Sunday, May 2, 2021. Photo by Savannah Daniels

Guadalupe Buddhist Church congregation during Sunday service Sutra chanting. Guadalupe, CA. April 18, 2021. Photo by Savannah Daniels

Congregation member, Sumi Schumacher, holding O-nenju (prayer beads) during service at Guadalupe Buddhist Church. Guadalupe, CA. April 18, 2021. Photo by Savannah Daniels

San Luis Obispo Buddhist Church. San Luis Obispo, CA. April 11, 2021. Photo by Savannah Daniels

A small statue of Shinran Shonin, founder of Pure Land Buddhism, on the sensei (reverend) podium at San Luis Obispo Buddhist Church. San Luis Obispo, CA. April 11, 2021. Photo by Savannah Daniels

Fusuma (sliding door) separating the entry hallway and chapel at San Luis Obispo Buddhist Church. San Luis Obispo, CA. April 11, 2021. Photo by Savannah Daniels

Entryway display and signage at San Luis Obispo Buddhist Church. San Luis Obispo, CA. April 11, 2021. Photo by Savannah Daniels

The post Preserving Buddhist traditions in Coastal California appeared first on Pavement Pieces.

Vince Vance, 26, a humanities teacher in Manhattan, finds it difficult to be inundated with images and stories of men that look like him dying at the hands of police. 

Vince Vance, 26, identifies as a progressive socialist and sees capitalism as a major barrier to achieving racial justice. Photo credit: Vince Vance.

“There are times where I’ll see something has happened and I will have to scroll past it at first because I am not in the headspace to just completely derail my day,” he said. 

Vance, who identifies as Black, Queer, and as a progressive socialist, sees America’s emphasis on capitalism as the biggest barrier to eliminating racism. 

“Capitalism is the root of a lot of evil,” said Vance. “The policing that happens is protecting the interest of the rich.” 

His activism this year has included protesting with Black Lives Matter, donating money to protect individuals from evictions during the Covid-19 pandemic, and practicing self-care. 

“Taking care of myself is in itself an act of resistance,” said Vance. 

He hopes that after the next presidential election, America can start putting systems in place that better protect people of color, such as universal healthcare and prison reform. 

Sitting right of Vance on the political spectrum is Jerime Mason, 29, a training and quality specialist in healthcare from Chicago, Illinois.

“I am definitely more conservative than I am progressive at this point,” said Mason. 

For Mason, a devout Christian, it is the politicization of racial issues in the United States that he finds taxing. 

“For me, to actually address racism, it can no longer be politicized,” he said” It is a matter of truth and fact. If we are going to say all people are equal then we have to live that out, and with that I think ‘judging a book by its color’ is the one thing I see present in almost all mainstream media’s framing of the issue — like prejudging and pre-biases.” 

Mason is not convinced that the recent acts of police brutality against Black individuals are explicitly racist. 

With regard to the muder of George Floyd by a Minnesota police officer, Mason said, “ I am confused at how it is even perceived as racism. You definitely see an obvious abuse of authority, but after watching it several times, there’s nothing about it that tells you he did it only because he was Black.” 

Jerime Mason, 29, a devout Christian, views the politicization of race as the most frustrating element of political tension in America today. Photo by Jhaylen Cherry

He knows that his views are not the norm in the Black community, but that doesn’t hold him back from participating in conversations on race.

“I think it is healthy to listen and to desire truth in the conversation, even if I am wrong, and also to love the other person regardless of what conclusion they come to,” he said. 

Mason has spent a lot of time reading and researching to develop his political and social beliefs. But his real hope for a more just future comes from his Christian faith. 

“I don’t think I have seen or read the words of another man [i.e. Jesus] that has brought me more hope,” he said.  

Evan Traylor, 26, a full-time rabbinical student in Washington, D.C., finds his Jewish faith intertwined with his views on racial justice. 

“From as long as I can remember, what I learned at my Temple is that Judaism is about helping others and making the world a better place,” said Traylor. 

Being Biracial, both Black and white,Traylor has encountered racism within predominantly white Jewish spaces, pushing him to work on issues for Jews of Color. 

“It has been five to six years of exploring and investing around this idea of Jews of Color,” he said.  “How do we support JOCs and how do we eliminate the racism that exists within the Jewish community?” 

This summer, some of Traylor’s activism included speaking at Central Synagogue and teaching a workshop for the Jewish organization, Hillel International.  

He sees the tie between systems of oppression and the power of the wealthiest citizens. 

“Until we are able to refute the ideas that center white wealthy men, racism will continue to be here,” he said. 

 Traylor maintains hope despite the deep-seated inequality in this country and all of the work that must be done to dismantle it.

“It is hard to have ancestors that were enslaved and eventually gained their freedom, and started a family and set off this long chain of events that led to me and not have hope,” he said.

The post Black men, despite political and religious views, feel pain of racism and cling to hope appeared first on Pavement Pieces.

K had to make an impossible decision. Be gay or be Muslim.

But to be out and Muslim is dangerous, both for K and  her family back home in Saudi Arabia. When she returns home a in a few years, being out of the closet could land her in jail or cost her life.

K is a Sunni Muslim and her family follows Sharia Law, which puts adultery and homosexuality in the same category with the same punishment –  death.

“I’m usually terrified about that,” said K. “If I’m outside of the country, like I am right now, I’m untouchable. So technically if anything goes wrong they can’t do anything until I’m back in the

borders.”

K can not be identified in this story because it could harm her family back home or she could be harmed if or when she returns home.

She keeps up a facade of intimacy with her family because she knows that they will not accept her sexuality.

“They’ll blame America,” K said. “They’ll blame themselves. They’ll blame me. They won’t believe it. They will deny, deny, deny.”

For gay Muslims like K, America is a chance for them to be their true selves.

U.S. Muslims are more supportive of homosexuality. A Pew Research poll found that 52 percent say homosexuality should be accepted by society.

Organizations like Muslims for Progressive Values (MPV) supports gay muslims so they do not have to choose between their sexuality and their religion.

“Our work is basically to create an environment where we challenge the Muslim majority population to think critically and to do that within the context of Islam,”  said Ani Zonneveld, the founder of MPV.

Their vision is not solely for the LGBT Muslim community in the United States, but they are strong advocates for inclusivity, human rights and social justice in Muslim-majority countries.

“In those countries, we don’t do LGBT work necessarily,” Zonneveld said. “We do more on women and girls work and also on freedom of religion and belief and on inclusiveness. And so when we promote the idea of inclusivity, that means being compassionate and loving to everyone, it includes everyone which includes LGBT people.”

According to a 2017 Pew Research study the majority of the U.S. Muslim community is still conservative in their approach to LGBT relationships. But the same study says six in 10 Muslim millennials support homosexuality. Despite this, Zondeveld said coming out in a Muslim family could “work against your freedom” as gay Muslims  can be forced into marriage, receive death threats or suffer physical violence.

K goes to college in New York City, which has one of the largest LGBT populations in the world. There she is an out lesbian studying pre-med. She smokes cigarettes. She doesn’t attend any religious institution. She does not share her religious upbringing with her peers openly. She’s outspoken and opinionated, but not headstrong. She chooses to not wear a hijab. She has a unique style, modest but a cross between vintage and punk.

K knew from a young age that she was attracted to women. She first heard of homosexuality in fourth grade and from there began to understand her attractions and the upward battle she would face dealing with society’s disapproval.

“We were raised to think it was wrong,” K said. “So, it was just a matter of how much I wanted to admit it to myself. How much did I want to admit that I was risking a lot, you know?”

Ani Zonneveld, the director of Muslims for Progressive Values.

Zonneveld believes it is the responsibility of Muslims to be critical of religious leaders and to read passages critically and to offer counter narratives. One such example of critically reading the Qur’an is with the story of Sodom which is also in the Bible.

Sodom was an ancient town known for its violence and, most notably, for the attempted gang rape of visitors as found in the story of Lot. As the men of the town came to Lot’s door to gang rape his guests, God rescued Lot; fire rained down and destroyed the city. According to K, this story helps define the conservative Islamic belief of homosexuality.

“It goes back to it and saying those people all burned,” K said. “And this is what’s going to happen to you guys. It’s illegal. It’s wrong. You get killed for it.”

Zonneveld and MPV believe this story has been misinterpreted.

“The city folk were not adhering to the prophet’s teachings of welcoming strangers,” said Zonneveld. “It was about sexual violence because their sexual violence was on women as well as men and children. So, it’s very convenient to demonize LGBT people from that story just because of a particular forced sexual violence against men by men. But that’s not the case. So, it is a twisted interpretation of the story.”

MPV also disagrees with the notion that K would need to choose between being gay and being Muslim. Zonneveld called it “bastardization of the interpretation of Islam.”

“And unfortunately, this is the norm,” Zonneveld said. “This is moderated by Saudi Arabia.”

MPV has a vision to bring more religious leaders to their side of the argument.

“The intention is for us to be able to get mosque and religious leaders to do away with the homophobic teaching,” said Zonneveld. “If we could do that where we are, we would do good for the future, for the next generation of LGBT Muslims.”

For K, the future is less hopeful. She said she will not come out to her family.

“The question is if I ever fall in love with a girl here,” K said. “But I ruin my life and marry her because I could. I technically could marry someone here and then it obviously will not be approved back home.”

K also worries about her family in Saudi Arabia if she were publicly out, she suspects the government would begin looking for legally punishable faults or sins in her family.

“The entire family would be under (investigation),” said K. “Like the government would keep a special eye on all of us.”

K also had a strong aversion to groups like MPV. Her opinion underscores her fear of Saudi Arabia’s governmental reach.

“I wouldn’t go,” K said. “Because I am literally built to assume that that is a death statement. That is a place of no return. You’re gonna go there? It’s actually a trap and the government.”

The post Many Gay Muslims are trapped between religion and sexual orientation appeared first on Pavement Pieces.

As Yawo, Rios is a newly ordained priest of an ancient diaspora religion brought to Cuba by Congolese slaves. From Cuba it spread throughout the Caribbean, to the Dominican Republic, Colombia, Venezuela, and later to the US. It’s called Palo Mayombe, and its dark rituals involving human and animal remains and even grave robbing, is practiced in extreme secrecy. Like another Afro-Caribbean religion, Santeria, thousands of Latino New Yorkers are adherents of this syncretic faith which involves ritual dance, song, and drumming.

Botanica Babalu in the Bronx. Photo by Neil Giardino.

Rios is the owner of Botanica Babalu, a folk medicine shop in the Bronx that sells spiritual herbs, candles, and statues of saints. It’s a one-stop for Palo accessories including medicinal plants for aura cleansing. “This is a place I like to think of for healing and guidance,” he said.

As a palero, Enox said he has been ordained or “crowned” ocha. This means that an Orisha, or holy being of his faith, is aligned with his inner head. In essence, it gives him the ability to act as a spiritual medium.

“It’s very dark. Very draining. But if it’s used for the betterment of the people and for protection, it is amazing,” said Rios.

The spirits that paleros are in contact with are both ancestral and of the natural world. Worship for paleros like Rios centers on communication with these deities by using iron or clay pots called ngangas. The nganga is to a palero what an alter is to a Catholic priest. Palo means stick in Spanish. And that’s what goes into the pot along with earth and bones. But that’s not all that goes into a gnanga.

“You want the spirit to keep you safe from a gun, to keep you safe from a machete, from a blade, somebody pulling out a blade on you. So we implement all those things in the pot,” explains Rios.

Palo faithful believe that a spirit of the dead also lives inside. The spirits of Palo communicate through ordained mediums like Rios. Earthly items like guns or knives help the palero channel these spirits and summon protection from them. Clients pass through his doors seeking spiritual cleansing. He offers spiritual baths with medicinal herbs. Rios claims his prices are lower than other botanicas. “I’m here to give back. I remember having cancer, looking for some kind of positivity, some kind of light, some kind of hope to keep me going. And so that’s what I try to do.”

One patron needs a blessing before a job interview. Another isn’t coping with a death in the family. Some are trying to keep their marital vows sacred. Requests to keep husbands or wives faithful are common. Rios said instead he focuses on light and healing. But he explains that some paleros not only overcharge in times of crisis, but also use the spirits in their ngangas recklessly, to harm or worse.

A scale for medicinal herbs is hung above a holy statue at Botanica Babalu. Photo by Neil Giardino.

“You can kill with a nganga. That’s how dark it is. It’s like a dog. Somebody comes into your back yard and your dog is trained. If that dog gets loose, who knows what you’re going to be in by the time they get the dog off of you,” he said.

Palo is almost always linked to Santeria. And ritual music and dance is fundamental to both. There is one main distinction: Santeria comes from the Yoruba people from Nigeria and Palo Mayombe comes from the Congo. Since Congolese slaves were brought to the Caribbean much earlier than the Yoruba, it’s harder to trace their music and culture directly back to Africa. In other words, Palo’s African origins are darker and more mysterious.

Peter Manuel is a professor in the department of Art and Music at John Jay College who has written extensively about music of the Caribbean. “Palo songs have some Congolese words in them, but mixed with a lot of Spanish. It’s just more syncretic and more acculturated,” he said. Manuel added that although the often feverish dance, pounding drums, and call and response incantations of Santeria and Palo are similar, tracing Santeria to the Yoruba is much easier because these Nigerian slaves were brought to the Caribbean as late as the 19th century. That direct line between Palo and the Congo is much more indistinct.

One similarity in both Palo and Santeria is ritual sacrifice. Every so often news about sacrifice of animals makes headlines in Greater New York City. When asked about this, Enox J. Rios is unequivocal. “This is an Afro-Caribbean religion and it’s one of the oldest religions. This is the way it’s been done. It’s tradition. But there’s room for growth.” he said.

And as an initiated Yawo of Palo Mayombe, Rios will now embark on his year and seven days of austerity as an ordained palero. He acknowledges the darkness of his religion, but says he’ll continue to use it for the sake of wellness and healing.

“There is bad and there is good in everything. Palo is heavy but at Botanica Babalu it’s used for love, stability, and everything that is positive.”

The post The traditions of Palo Mayombe appeared first on Pavement Pieces.

As bombs of bigotry erupt in the Middle East, some fear that tolerance will never be restored.

But imagine a school where Muslim first grade boys sit at their desks coloring in pictures of a Rabbi, a Muslim man and woman, and a Christian boy below the words: “In Islam, everyone is equal.”

“The students learn the difference between Islam, Judaism, and Christianity and that everyone is your neighbor no matter what religion they are,” said Denise Frazier, 40, a parent of a first grade girl at the Razi School in Woodside, Queens. “They teach them that they can have friends that are Christians and Jews, that they are all the same, and all equal.”

The Razi School, a Muslim pre-kindergarten through 12^th grade private school, encourages its students to learn the different religions of the world.

Recently, the students participated in International Day, where they celebrated cultural diversity and the many nationalities that are represented at the school.

“International Day is a celebration of people from all walks of life to teach equality and tolerance for one another no matter where they come from or what religion they are, “ said Frazier. “It amazed me that there were 32 different countries represented in a school with 300 students.”

According to Frazier, the students were able to experience the different cultures through food. With their sense of smell and taste, they could immerse themselves onto the streets in Egypt, the food markets in Tanzania, and the sidewalk cafes in the United States. The aroma of koushari lentils and rice, chapatti flat bread, and apple pie cobbler brought the students closer together.

But International Day is not the only way the Razi School addresses tolerance. The students are also required to take religion class.

“You are going to be good guys,” said Sheileh Wessam, the first grade religion teacher at the Razi School, to his 15 students. “Look guys, you have to respect your friends and help other people.”

Wessam’s first grade students read out loud their lesson of the day, a story about Prophet Musa (or Moses in the Hebrew Bible). At the end of the lesson, the students were instructed to color images that represented different religions.

But not all schools are this dedicated to cultivating an environment that teaches tolerance.

According to Teaching Tolerance magazine, religion class is not a requirement in most schools.

“We have a crap structure in teaching religion in this country,” said Adrienne van der Valk, managing editor of Teaching Tolerance magazine. “When students have the opportunity to interact with other students who practice religious beliefs that are different from their own, their fear goes down and their understanding goes up. But it’s not mandatory.”

Van der Valk encourages teachers to allow their students to see themselves and others who are not like them in their work.

“It is much more difficult to label a stereotype if you have regular contact with that group,” said van der Valk. “This can occur by watching movies or reading books about that group. We encourage teachers to do this.”

According to the Southern Poverty Law Center (SPLC), the future of achieving equality and justice lies in the hands of educators.

When schools do not require a curriculum that fosters tolerance, students are more vulnerable to social injustice and religious prejudice.

Jordana Loft, a masters student in elementary inclusive education at Columbia University, experienced the effects of this vulnerability while substitute teaching at a charter school in the South Bronx.

“I was wearing a red kabbalah bracelet and one of the girls, who was wearing a hijab asked me if I was Jewish,” said Loft. “I said ‘yes, why do you ask?’ She responded asking me that if she’s Muslim and I’m Jewish, does that mean we can’t be friends?”

Loft explained to her student that she grew up in a community where they embrace different cultures, attend difference schools and go to different places of prayer.

“Those differences make people unique and special,” said Loft to her student. “They enhance my life. I get to learn things I didn’t know before.”

Loft told her that when she was away at school her best friend was Muslim. They used to speak about the different places they would pray.

“She immediately got excited,” said Loft. “She was able to see herself in my story. We could now be friends.”

The post The Razi School celebrates cultural diversity appeared first on Pavement Pieces.

Joseph Hayon is the president of the Brooklyn Tea Party. Photo by Renee Jacques

Joseph Hayon is about ready to move his family to another country. If Obama gets reelected he is convinced there will be another four years of what he sees as the destruction of America. Hayon sits in a run-down building in the Midwood section of Brooklyn hastily apologizing for being an hour late to our appointment. He was meeting with a potential donor because not only is Hayon the president of the Brooklyn Tea Party, he is also running for the New York State Assembly.

Remember when everyone was making a big fuss about the Tea Party back in 2009?  After Obama took office, the group staged dramatic protests in D.C. fervently chanting that they wanted “their” America back and fiercely opposing any government regulation on their lives—including Obama’s healthcare bill and what they view as excessive and interfering taxes on the American people.

Most of America thought they were whack-jobs, with their extremist views and outrageous claims (some keep trying to press the point that Obama forged his birth certificate and that he holds radical Muslim views). The group is named after the iconic American movement in Boston that actually made a lot of sense. But today, the people in the Tea Party frequently spiral into inane tirades that baffle the American public. They often get shooed away as over-zealous radical thinkers who are labeled as just plain weird.

The first thing that Joseph Hayon wants to get out of the way about the Brooklyn Tea Party is that his group is different. “We’re practical,” says Hayon calmly.  He’s a 34 year-old Jewish guy wearing a suit and he has two kids and a loving wife. He works as a bookkeeper and is also studying accounting at Brooklyn College. His main concern is religious freedom and whether the government is spending the citizens’ money wisely.

But above all, what Hayon says that he cares about is a better life for his kids. His three kids are prominently featured on both of his campaign cards and when I receive emails from him his name is listed as “Homework Helper.”

“Everything is for children,” he says. “If we owe sixteen trillion dollars, our children have to pay for that.” If elected to the State Assembly, Hayon said his priorities are to repeal gay marriage and to change the way New York runs its education system by switching to educational vouchers.

“The voucher would come from the government,” he says. “I have three kids, so the government comes and says, ‘One voucher for each kid. Take the voucher and go to any school you want. It doesn’t matter if its a religious school or a private school, a public school, a charter school, go and use it any way you want.’ Something like that would save the education crisis that goes on in the black communities, the Jewish communities and the Catholic communities. The low income and religious communities will benefit greatly by having educational vouchers.”

One thing that Hayon wants to make clear: the Brooklyn Tea Party does not like Mitt Romney. Hayon says he and his colleagues think that Romney is just the lesser of two evils. “We are not excited about Mitt Romney but we are strongly opposed to Barack Obama and so Romney wins our endorsement by default, okay?” says Hayon with a sense of urgency. “But, ideally, the Brooklyn Tea Party preferred other candidates like Herman Cain and Rick Santorum. I was a presidential delegate for Santorum.”

Hayon is extremely passionate about politics for someone who only voted for the first time when he was thirty. “I did not care about politics,” he says. “No candidate reached out to me. Nobody ever gave me a reason to vote.” Apparently Anthony Weiner  (the congressman who made a name for himself notably for his “sexting” scandal) forced Hayon to change his mind. “I received a phone call from Anthony Weiner,” Hayon says. “His position against school vouchers was frustrating, primarily because he represented a large amount of Orthodox Jews and Catholics.”

Hayon ran unsuccessfully for the Assembly two years ago and has scarcely updated his website.  “What’s the point?” he says. “My positions remain the same.” The site opens with a letter to his supporters expressing his feelings about his loss and emphasizing in bold that his sole purpose is to “protect our children.” He claims on his website is that it was truly an “act of God” that he lost with 43 percent of the votes and only spent $615.

He gladly broke down how he managed to be so frugal. He spewed out different price points and numbers about how he saved money by splitting the cost of the cards with someone who was running for Senate and it ended up being a really good deal. But this year, he’s trying to raise more money.

He has changed his slogan from “Our Children Are Our Future” to “Uniting Communities for Our Children.” This is deliberate. He needs to gain approval from all the different sub-groups in Brooklyn (the Hispanics, the African-Americans, the Haitians, etc) in order to beat Helene Weinstein. He is trying to paint Weinstein as someone who wants to abolish religious freedom. She voted for the gay marriage law and Hayon wants everyone to know that he will fight repealed on behalf of every religious person in Brooklyn, regardless of what God they pray to.

“It’s a pivotal issue in the Orthodox Jewish community,” he says. “We have a lot of Caribbean people in Brooklyn, African-Americans, and Haitians. We are against gay marriage.”

Above all, Hayon says that the Brooklyn Tea Party’s philosophy is to make sure the government adheres to exactly what the people—the citizens who pay the taxes—want. “The people should make as many choices as possible,” he says. “We are religious people and religious people pay taxes. The government has to cater to religious people.”

In a recent interview with “The Atlantic”, New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg said, “The Tea Party is a manifestation of frustration. They don’t want it. What is ‘it?’ They don’t know what ‘it’ is, there’s just a general feeling that society is not going in the right direction.”

When confronted with the hypothetical—yet very real—possibility that Obama might be re-elected, Hayon gasps. “Oh my God,” he says. “My family will have to move. All these regulations just take away religious freedom. Those who are strong will move and those who are weak will stay and not be religious anymore.”

His faith holds his life and his family together. He gleams when he talks about his children, taking pride in the fact that they are well behaved and already religiously devoted. His six-year old son speaks English and Hebrew fluently and his four-year-old always sits quietly during the two long hours every Saturday that Hayon takes them to synagogue. His 20-month-year-old baby even hands Hayon his yarmulke every morning.

Where he would take his family if America fails him once and for all?

“Israel is definitely an option,” he answers as if he has given this question serious prolonged thought.

The post Brooklyn Tea Party President Runs for NY State Assembly appeared first on Pavement Pieces.

The 9/11 Cross on a pedestal at ground zero. Photo courtesy of Wikipedia

The 17-foot steel T-shaped beam pulled from the wreckage at ground zero after the 9/11 attacks has become a religious symbol for many. Families prayed at the foot of the cross; small pocket sized replicas were made.

Now that the cross has found a permanent home at the National September 11 Memorial & Museum, atheists say the cross has no place in a museum funded by taxpayers’ money, many who are not Christian. They feel the cross is a violation of the first amendment, which prohibits the federal government from showing preference for one religion over another or over the non-religious.

Members of NYC Atheists a non- profit organization who advocates for separation of church and state, met yesterday to discuss the progress of a lawsuit filed in July by group members to have the “Miracle Cross” removed from the museum.

The plaintiffs, three members of NYC Atheists, argue that keeping the cross in the museum is a “violation of constitutional rights.”

Dennis Horvitz, one of the three plaintiffs, believes if their case is lost it will set a bad precedent for future issues of separation of church and state.
Horvitz, 62, from the Upper West Side, said the group is being criticized as standing against Christians, but that’s not the case.

Peter Pohly, 73, a resident of the Upper East Side, an atheist, came specifically to hear about the lawsuit, which he supports

“I find it truly appalling that a place of public interest is singling out one religious sect,” Pohly said.

He believes it’s imposing religion on the memorial and those it honors, when many of those who died were not Christian.

“It’s as if the people with other or no religious beliefs are not equally as important,” Pohly said.

During the meeting, attendees watched a recorded interview with Danielle M. Mathey, the attorney for the plaintiffs. Afterward they had a Q&A session with Mathey via Skype.

Mathey, of Green River, Wyo., said she believes the plaintiffs have a strong case and it should be settled before it reaches trial.

But Attorney Paul L. LaClair, of the Gucciardo Law Firm in Lower Manhattan, who attended the meeting, disagrees.

“I think they have absolutely no shot at winning this case, but I wanted to hear what Danielle (Mathey) had to say,” he said.

LaClair, 57, said the case lacks precedent because the museum isn’t open yet for the final display to be evaluated.

Because the display won’t be completed till next year, there is no way of knowing what other items are going to be put in place, or if those items might make it more secular. The plans include a Jewish Star of David made from steel remain, as well as plans to include in the display a Bible and a prayer shawl recovered from ground zero along with the cross.

“Everything is going to depend on how the museum puts the display up,” LaClair said.

The post Atheist group wants 9/11 cross removed from ground zero museum appeared first on Pavement Pieces.

Thomas McCormick holds two photos of himself, one taken during the early years of his priesthood, the other taken more than 20 years later on his wedding day. McCormick is one of 200 priests of Celibacy is the Issue Ministries who continue to minister even after leaving the Roman Catholic Church to marry. Photo by Chelsia Rose Marcius.

Thomas McCormick opened his leather wallet and pulled out an old photo of a young bearded man in priestly garb. He paused, looking down at the picture before reopening the wallet to jimmy out a second portrait of the same size and of the same smiling face. But the man’s cheeks were now bare, his brown hair faded. A black tux and white bow tie replaced the religious vestments, and now the man was wrapped in the arms of a woman.

The photographs of McCormick —the first taken in 1981 when he entered the Roman Catholic priesthood, the second snapped on his wedding day more than two decades later —are daily reminders of his commitment to both marriage and ministry. Yet McCormick, 60, of St. James, N.Y., and other Catholic “married priests” are considered both outsiders and at odds with the church.

More than 200 ordained married men in “Celibacy is the Issue” or CITI Ministries preform religious rites for disfranchised Catholics who want the blessing of a priest.

A shortage of new priests has left older clergymen without successors and parishioners without guides to keep them within the Catholic community. According to the Center for Applied Research in the Apostolate at Georgetown University, 288 parishes in New York and hundreds more nationwide closed between 2000 and 2010. The Pew Research Center study Faith in Flux, updated in February 2011, found that one in 10 Americans raised Catholic have now left the church as adults, and nearly one in four cite “the rule that priests cannot marry” as a reason for leaving.

“Parishes are closing all over and a lot of that is due to the decline in the number of priests,” said Thomas Reese, a Roman Catholic priest and Research Fellow at Georgetown University’s Woodstock Theological Center. “With fewer priests in the parish, many Catholics say, ‘Why don’t you do something about this, why don’t you ordain some married men so we can have mass, so that we don’t have to drive 100 miles to the next church.”

Thomas McCormick on entering the priesthood and his decision to leave

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McCormick said his decision to enter the priesthood shocked old classmates. As a kid in Brooklyn, he did “the Catholic thing,” attending mass every Sunday and serving as an altar boy at the local parish. But teenage friends knew him as the guy who sported a leather coat and drank beer on the Brooklyn Belt Parkway – and the seminary was the last place anyone expected McCormick to wind up after a four-year stint with the U.S. Air Force.

“The only reason I went to church while in the military was because I was afraid God was going to strike me dead,” he said. “And then I was invited to go to a little prayer meeting in 1972 in a little town outside of Oxford, England. It was during that weekend that I saw for the first time Catholics who were deeply in love with the lord. But not because of the rules and regulations of the church. They had a personal relationship with God. I wanted that.”

He entered the Seminary of the Immaculate Conception in Huntington, N.Y. at age 27, and was ordained within three years. But McCormick said he did not quite fit in. He wore sandals and kept a beard. He stood on the pews to preach. And he often challenged church leaders.

“They saw me as radical, they saw me as different,” he said. “But I would not be afraid to speak off the altar on ethical and moral issues.”

More than 20 years passed before McCormick left the priesthood; he said it was, for the most part, because of loneliness. But afterward McCormick felt something was missing, and spent the next seven months questioning his decision.

Louise Hagget, founder of CITI Ministries and its website Rent-A-Priest, said there are church laws that validate the ministry of a married priest – an interpretation of Roman Catholic doctrine not recognized by the Vatican.

Still, the group’s online directory – dubbed “God’s Yellow Pages” – lists 200 ordained married men in 42 U.S. states. Hagget said members rarely get together, but she called for a meeting in 2002 to discuss clerical celibacy and the state of the church. McCormick, who left the clergy that year, decided to attend.

“I remember standing up and saying, ‘Hi, I’m Tom, I’m on leave and I’m lost,” McCormick said. One priest approached him after the meeting. “‘I remember him coming up to me and saying I know your pain,’ He looked into my soul and said, “Remember, you are a priest forever. Nobody can take that away from you.’”

The expression, “Once a priest, always a priest” is common among CITI members, including Richard Hasselbach, who left the priesthood in 1990.

Richard Hasselbach talks with parishioners at the Clarkstown Reformed Church in West Nyack, N.Y. Hasselbach left the Roman Catholic priesthood to marry yet still continues to preside over weddings for Catholic couples.

“I don’t think the Pope would be too thrilled with me if he were to join the conversation,” said Hasselbach, 60, of Carmel, N.Y. “But the word ‘catholic’ means universal, and I believe that my baptism and my ordination is a universally Christian one. So I feel like I have the key to every church door. And I should be able to walk into any church in Christianity because I am a universal Christian.”

Yet this understanding may be lost on recently ordained Catholic clerics. Reese said younger priests appear to adopt a more traditional approach to ministry and “are not agitating to change the rule” on clerical celibacy.

“These guys who have entered the priesthood in the last 20 years tend to be more conservative and, more importantly, much fewer in numbers then the classes the 50s and 60s,” he said. “They’re not going to be able to replace the current crop of priests facing retirement, illness and death.”

According to Hagget, more than 75 percent of the married priests in CITI Ministries were ordained between 1950 and 1979, when Catholic reform groups began popping up across the country.

Many groups have since dissolved. Stuart O’Brien, 74, of Boston, a married priest and a part of the reform group Corpus, said members continue to meet with church leaders on the issue of celibacy.

He said most of their efforts “fall on the deaf ears of Rome.”

“There are no young priests, no middle-aged priests, just old priests,” O’Brien said. “You cannot make these people come alive with a 75-year-old priest. The church talks about getting young people to come back, but come back to what? What do they have come back to?”

McCormick oversees about 100 Catholic weddings a year, and he said marriage has allowed him to connect with parishioners in a way traditional priesthood could not.

“If the church were to change the rule on celibacy, I would go back tomorrow—and so would most of the priests I know,” he said. “There’s a fear that it would restructure the entire world understanding of Catholicism. But I know more now from being married, and my preaching would be more effective because of the life experience I have.”

The post After leaving the order, Catholic “married priests” continue to minister appeared first on Pavement Pieces.

Yet religion was not a requirement to come out and celebrate.

“I’m not Catholic,” said Jill Macklem of Greenwich Village, Manhattan, who wore a straw hat trimmed in tulips. “It’s a day of community and everyone’s coming out and being part of it.”

Beth Tallman of Bedford Stuyvesant, Brooklyn, represented her borough by sporting locally inspired headgear. “Our neighbors raise chickens, so we decided that we’d take the chicken theme to a whole new level and be the Bed Stuy Peeps,” she said.

Parade goers put on hats to promote a number of causes, including animal cruelty, same sex marriage and workers’ rights.

Moved by a recent wave of protests in the Midwest, Brian Griffin of Astoria, Queens, decorated his tall, vertical creation with labor speak slogans.

“In support of unions in Wisconsin, I made a hat that said New York is pro-collective bunnying,” he said. “United we bargain, divided we beg.”

Still, most came out to embrace the wacky, the quirky and a sense of camaraderie.

“I stumbled on the Easter parade several years ago,” said Mike Revenaugh of Astoria, Queens, who wore a motorized Ferris wheel head dress he built out of K’Nex toys and glue. “I saw it was a bunch of people making their own silly hats and that’s kind of right up my alley.”

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