I have never been comfortable with liturgy. My parents were committed atheists. So, how did I end up as a Zen priest? I’ve told the story before of a dinner with Roshi Bernie and Jishu when I was still new to Zen. “Who will be your first shuso?” Bernie asked. Who would Jishu choose to serve as “senior student” during her first three-month training period as a teacher? As a Dharma Holder, Jishu had many students. She named one. “No,” said Bernie. Jishu named another. Another “

“When is daddy coming home?” I am pacing the living room, returning to the front window, looking out for my father. My mother doesn’t know. Daddy worked six days a week, making custom furniture. Evenings, he was out meeting with potential customers. When he wasn’t working, he was doing his political organizer thing. Daddy taught me to catch and throw a ball, took me to Dodger games, taught me to play chess. I cherished my time with him, but I couldn’t get enough. As a teenage

Roshi Jishu Holmes introduced me to demon work. It’s been an important part of my practice, but I didn’t see the connection with the hungry ghosts that Roshi Bernie Glassman was always talking about. Bernie was using a Buddhist image, beings with needle-narrow necks, starving because they could not swallow the food they craved. Bernie looked outward, vowing to feed all the hungry ghosts. His vow manifested in the Greyston mandala which brought jobs and housing, childcare and