Crystal’s Sermon on Psalm 9
Crystal Hall is a congregant at St. Lydia’s, and a Master of Divinity candidate at Union Theological Seminary with a concentration in biblical studies. She is also a candidate for ordination in the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America (ELCA), and is a Fellow with the Poverty Initiative at Union Theological Seminary. At the Poverty Initiative, Crystal is the coordinator of the Homeless Union History Project of the Poverty Scholars Program. Crystal shared this sermon on Psalm 9 with us at dinner church on July 31.
To tell a story is to remember it. In telling a story, you remember its parts: the beginning, middle and end, and how they’re each connected. St. Lydia’s story’s has many beginnings. It was first conceived as an idea. That idea was birthed into reality in Advent 2008. St. Lydia’s first began meeting in a Financial District apartment. After taking those first steps, St. Lydia’s began gathering here at Trinity Lower East Side.
This church has a definite sense of place in its story. It’s difficult to forget, especially when we worship outside, that this church is across the street from Tompkins Square Park.
The first time I set foot in Tompkins Square Park, I felt that I was walking on sacred ground. As if I should take my shoes off. This may seem odd, as many of New York City’s public parks have a decidedly secular quality about them. It was already dark at 6:30 on a February Sunday. That night I decided to leave my shoes on. I noticed the rats rummaging through the garbage cans, the smell of that enormous dog park, and the lights glaring from the brick pavilion. I also noticed that I felt as though I was paying my respects. This surprised me. I felt the kind of reverence I feel when I visit the grave of a family member. Standing beside a grave is, for me, a moment to remember. It is a reminder of where I’ve come from.
Walking through the park that first night evoked my sacred memory. Before I even knew it, the story of this place was becoming part of my story. Just the month before I had read excepts from Ron Casanova’s autobiography Each One, Teach One. Cas’ story didn’t begin in this park. But he wound up here, homeless, in the summer of 1989. He writes of his experience that summer:
Our community grew, and we soon gave it the name ‘Tent City.’…It started as a place where people came because they needed a place to stay…Tent City was open to anyone and everyone who rejected the city’s so-called solutions to homelessness. We had a slogan: ‘No Housing, No Peace.’ Now that did not mean that we wanted a violent confrontation with the authorities. That meant we were not going to allow ourselves to be quietly put out of sight and mind in jails or dangerous shelters.
Cas and many others were thrust into a struggle for survival in the summer of 1989. The police and the Parks Department conducted over a dozen raids on the 300 to 350 people sleeping in Tompkins Square Park on any given night.
Read the rest of Crystal’s sermon here.