Hans and Benedict

Here is the official statement concerning the discussion between Hans Kung and Pope Benedict. According to an article in the Chicago Tribune, the statement was drafted by the Holy Father himself, and wholeheartedly agreed with by Kung:

 

VATICAN CITY, SEP 27, 2005 (VIS) - Holy See Press Office Director Joaquin Navarro-Valls released the following declaration to journalists yesterday afternoon:

  "On Saturday, September 24, a discussion took place between His Holiness Pope Benedict XVI and Professor Hans Kung of Tubingen, Germany. The meeting was held in a friendly atmosphere. Both sides agreed that it made no sense, in the context of the meeting, to enter into a dispute on the doctrinal questions that still persist between Hans Kung and the Magisterium of the Catholic Church.

  "The discussion thus concentrated on two subjects that have lately had particular importance in Hans Kung's work: the question of 'Weltethos' (world ethics) and the dialogue between the reason of the natural sciences and the reason of Christian faith. Professor Kung emphasized that his project of 'Weltethos' is by no means an abstract intellectual construct, rather it throws light on the moral values around which the great religions of the world converge, despite all their differences, and which may be considered as valid criteria - given their convincing rationality - by secular reason.

  "The Pope welcomed Professor Kung's efforts to contribute to a renewed recognition of the essential moral values of humanity through the dialogue of religions and in the encounter with secular reason. He stressed that the commitment to a renewed awareness of the values that sustain human life is also an important objective of his own pontificate.

  "At the same time, the Pope reaffirmed his agreement with Professor Kung's attempt to revive the dialogue between faith and the natural sciences, and to assert the reasonableness of and need for 'Gottesfrage' (the question of God) to scientific thought. For his part, Professor Kung expressed his praise for the Pope's efforts in favor of dialogue between religions and towards meeting the different social groups of the modern world."

OP/MEETING HANS KUNG/NAVARRO-VALLS                       VIS 050927 (320)

Don't Miss It

Chief Justice Roberts' swearing in yesterday dovetails nicely with the October observance of Respect Life Month, since many hope that the new Chief Justice will be part of a movement toward greater legal protection of human life. In this regard, be sure to see Fr. Bob Sprott's excellent article in the "Franciscan Legionnaire" for the month of October. A link is provided in my sidebar.

Returned to Sender

Returned to Sender

A bashed-up care package I had sent to my sister before Katrina hit. The only package not returned (with postage due, adding insult to injury) was the one I sent UPS-and that had an incorrect address!

Pope and Dissident

Yesterday's Tribune had a good-sized article about a tete-a-tete between Pope Benedict and Hans Kung. It sounded as though the two had had a really warm discussion, and the official Vatican statement released about the meeting had been written by the Pope himself, while Kung said he concurred with every word. I don't know that it has ever happened before that a Pope met personally and privately with someone who had been stripped of his credentials as a Catholic theologian. It is a marvelous sign of our Holy Father's openness of heart and mind. Even Kung seemed impressed. I'd like to see more about this, but so far don't have the time to look it up. Links, anyone?

Music News

My favorite choral group, a boys choir called "Libera" has recorded a new album which will be coming out soon, soon, soon. Can't wait! They have a celestial sound, and lots of their music is chant-inspired, but with a 3rd millennium twist. See http://www.libera.org.uk/off.htm

Digging Out

Mom sent me some pictures of the family home from her cell phone.

Their whole subdivision has begun to dig out, and every home has a wall of carpet, drywall, insulation and fence slats lining the street. Most homes also have a refrigerator outside waiting to be picked up. My brother tells me that insurance does not generally cover major appliances; the damage is presumed to be electrical, not flood related. It is hard to understand how it is not at least "storm related" if the power went out because of wind-damage. But if there's a way out, certainly it's going to be found.

On the plus side, my sister mentioned that just a month before Katrina hit, she had increased her flood insurance, "Just in case the 'big one' comes this year." Providential.
As my parents approached the house, they first passed by their parish church, with all the pews lined up in the parking lot.

Dad said he felt heartsick on going inside, but after speaking with the contractor, he is a bit more upbeat. Their entire first floor looks like a construction site. It IS a construction site! And Mom wants to see about getting the kitchen done, since there are no longer any cabinets. Or sinks. Or appliances.

Choking "game" on Dr. Phil

Sr. Rose's sister and nephew will be on Dr. Phil tomorrow (Tuesday, Sept. 27) to highlight the deadly "game" pre-teens "play" in search of a high. I've previously posted things about the tragedy that befell this family: the nephew found his twin brother suffocated in their room, and their mom is making it her cause to get the word out to parents. Check your local listings, and keep a box of Kleenex handy.

The Gospel of the Two Sons

Today's Gospel (tied with the reading from Ezekiel on responsibility for one's conversion to or from evil) highlighted two ways of responding to God and the manifestation of God's will. The first is immediate rejection or refusal that still, somehow, opens in time to acceptance. The second is the religious equivalent of a "Yes, Dear..." that never goes beyond the words. Jesus told his hearers that the "tax collectors and prostitutes" were in the first group, heading for the Kingdom of Heaven. There is so much hope in that message. I was praying today for my own continuing conversion to the Lord, asking (I'm still in a "flood" mode) that his will "seep in" to me, the way the flood waters seeped into my parents' house through doors that were presumably (at least I haven't heard anything different) intact. Asked God to convert me through seepage, if I was at risk for giving him a "yes, dear" with little action. Let his will soak me through and through so it is as much mine as his.

On a more mundane (but related!) note, I learned this evening that Mom and Dad are planning to go home tomorrow to scope out the damage. Dad is also chomping at the bit to get to his office. (I come by my own activism honestly.) I think my sisters' dogs, sharing their temporary lodging in the north of the state, may also have had something to do with Dad's urgent need to get back. Mom is praying they just stay a few days. The house, it seems, has power, but the air conditioning unit was destroyed, and she doesn't want to stay in a moldy and non-air conditioned house for any length of time. It is such a blessing they have a house to return to, even if for only a few days.

May they be safe on the road.

Xavier U faces post-Katrina woes

Today's New York Times brought out a further impact Hurricane Katrina has had and will have on the black community in the deep south. Two historically black universities (Xavier and Dillard) suffered serious damage from flooding, but do not have the endowments or, sadly enough, the kinds of insurance, that can help them dig out without impacting their students' and staff members' futures. Neither university had "cessation of work" insurance, and so paychecks are in question, leaving the schools open to loss of key faculty members. It seems that they did not have flood insurance. And their small endowments are not open to general use.

Xavier has the distinction, of course, not only of being the only historically black Catholic college in the country; it is the only one in the country (as far as I can recall) ever to be founded by a saint, St. Katharine Drexel. Actually, very few universities in the world have that distinction. And Xavier has made enormous contributions to the black community in its long history. Let's pray it can continue to do so.

 

Here's a link to the article; you have to be a member (free) to access it in full.

No Lasting City

The readings for the liturgy over the past several weeks have, in one way or another, all resonated very deeply with me in the light of what Hurricane Katrina did to my city. I still can't quite fathom the destruction, and now Hurricane Rita is flooding the city a second time.

My brother is over there. He had set up temporary lodging in Houston, but evacuated, and ended up home. At least he's in Metairie, which was relatively dry. I hope it stays that way. And tornado-free, too. I remember when Hurricane Betsy hit; tornadoes wiped clean an entire subdivision near ours. What had been a neighborhood of two-story homes, barely finished, was a field of cement slabs.

A while back, the responsorial psalm was "The Lord will build a house for us and guard our city." And this week, we have been hearing about the return of the exiles and the rebuilding of Jerusalem. I can't help but hope for the rebuilding of my city. And at the same time, "we have no lasting city here," the Bible says. "Set your heart on things above, where Christ is seated at God's right hand."

Today's Gospel and the "Celebrity Factor"

Well, for those who didn't hear it, today's Gospel is a short bit starring King Herod. Hearing so much about Jesus, his miracles, wonders, crowds of followers, and all the rumors that this Jesus is really John the Baptizer raised from the dead, Herod wants to see him. That's all.

Today, J-Lo is in Chicago, promoting I don't know what. Marshall Fields on State St was surrounded by TV vans, their microwave communication dishes at the top of periscope-like perches. A cameraman panned the crowds, and police officers stood at the ready. A small group of protesters held signs. A celeb was in town, and people just wanted to see her, maybe make eye contact. J-Lo doesn't exactly bring a life-altering message. It's enough, I suppose, to see her to get the message. "Pretty and rich = good."

But Jesus did bring us a message (and, of course IS the message). Curiosity to see him isn't enough. Herod missed out, even though in the end, he did get to "see" Jesus. But by the time Jesus got to him, Jesus himself was silent. Even then, Herod could have "gotten" the message, just by seeing him. But not as a celebrity.

Autistic Kids hit by Katrina

A lady in the Saturday choir at Mt. Carmel sent us all a notice about efforts being made to help provide for the special needs of autistic kids whose routines and diets, so crucial for their ability to cope with the most ordinary events, have been wildly disrupted. Entire families, obviously, will be dealing with more than the trauma of losing property. I have not been able to vet the appeal, but since they are calling for things like bedsheets and toothpaste, that would be a pretty strong sign of authenticity. Here is the choir member's message and a link to the site she refers to. I did notice that the site updated very recently and says that the camp has all they need for the present, so perhaps this would be something to keep in mind--especially if, God forbid, Hurricane Rita gives some families a one-two strike.

Dear Friends,

 

Like most of you this past week, as I've watched the devastating images from the hurricane, I've tried to put myself in the victims' shoes.  I cannot imagine how I would cope, or take care of my children.  Because my 7-year-old son, Noah, is severely autistic, I've been especially concerned about what parents of children with autism are facing.

 

Autistic children can do well in a structured, predictable environment.  However, at the slightest disruption, they lose much ground.  Their senses are overwhelmed by noises, crowds, and environmental chaos.  Many have a strong aversion to becoming wet.  They generally can't eat preservatives, wheat or dairy - the stuff of which government rations are made - without serious digestive and behavioral consequences.  Under stress, most children with autism will experience severe, uncontrollable gastrointestinal, sleep, toilet and/or viral symptoms.  They often have environmental sensitivites and allergies, in particular to mold.  The majority of autistic children spend their time watching DVDs, listening to music, or playing computer games.  One in 166 children has autism, and for these kids - without homes, electricity, or the necessary foods, without any communication skills or understanding of what has happened, and in a completely unstructured, chaotic world - the aftereffects of the hurricane must be like living in a nightmare.

 

I am helping to collect supplies for a shelter that is being set up in Mississippi for families with autistic children.  The families will be arriving with little to no personal belongings.  They are in need of all the items you'd bring to an unfurnished campsite.   If anyone is able to donate twin bedding (used but clean is ok), unopened toiletries, bathroom supplies, diapers or pull-ups (extra large sizes), wipes, and other personal supplies, I will ship them to the camp.  You are also welcome to ship them on your own, to the address below; and of course, monetary donations are very welcome.  In the near future, they will also be assessing the children's needs and requesting donations of toys, puzzles, DVDs, DVD players, etc. - you can contact me at any time if you would like to be appraised of the current needs.

 

Thank you so much for any support you can give.  If you would consider keeping the children with autism and their families in your prayers, it would be a great gift.

 

Amy, Noah, & Annelise

Mississippi Emergency Shelter Available For Hurricane Victims with Autism, Developmental Disabilities

The National Autism Association (NAA) Requests Help from Local Authorities

Toccopola, MS - Peg Pickering, the mother of an autistic child, has offered to provide emergency housing for families of children with autism and other developmental disorders at Camp Yocona in Toccopola, MS.  The camp can accommodate up to 350 people in cabins that can sleep up to 8 people each.  Each group of 4-5 cabins has a bathhouse. A large commercial kitchen and dining hall is available and a volunteer will be staffing the kitchen to prepare meals including gluten and casein free options for children on restricted diets. 

"The camp will provide a healing environment for parents and children alike, offering a place of solace and shelter while the families regroup and decide where to go from here," commented Pickering who is coordinating this effort.

Volunteers are needed at evacuation sites to help identify children with autism and their families and let them know that assistance is available.

According to NAA Executive Director Jo Pike, “Children with autism have very special needs.  A simple disruption in routine can be devastating to them.  We are calling on local authorities and relief organizations to help us locate these families as quickly as possible.”

Anyone with information on families of children with developmental disabilities needing shelter as a result of the hurricane and its aftermath are asked to contact the National Autism Association toll free at 866-622-6733, or Peg Pickering at 662-488-9619.

Tax-deductible donations to assist with this effort can be made online at http://www.nationalautismassociation.org/proddetail.php?prod=Katrina

Checks can be mailed to:
First United Methodist Church of Pontotoc
Good Samaritan Autism Fund
P.O. Box 308
Pontotoc, MS 38863

In addition to monetary donations, the camp is in need of twin-size bed linens, towels, washcloths, toiletries, toothbrushes and toothpaste, diapers, wipes, etc.  Donations of these items can be shipped to:

ASD KATRINA RESCUE
C/O Peg Pickering
2901 Highway 9 South
Pontotoc, MS 38863

 

Can we hit rewind?

Today was one of those days that, as I told my friend Cathy at CTU, I wish I could hit the rewind button. And that was only at 11:20. It continued along the same lines most of the afternoon! Started when the morning sprinkle turned to a downpour, just as the parking lot attendant brought our big green van down for me to take to school. I had a mailing to drop off at the Post Office after class--that was on a hand truck. And I was wearing sandals. The side door of the van faced a wide, deep puddle.Oh, well. I swung the door open and heaved the postal trays in one by one, one-handedly, since I was also attempting to manage an umbrella.  The hand truck wouldn't go in the side door (the van was already full of exhibit equipment), so I brought it around back, where another wide, dark puddle opened up. And the hand truck wouldn't fit through the back door, because of all the stuff. Another trip to the side door to shift tables and crates around. Then to the back door to shove the hand truck the final inch forward. Then to the driver's door, which had been left open all that time. In front of a puddle. I threw my backpack across to the passenger seat and grabbed a smooshed box of Kleenex to wipe off the door, the steering wheel, my wet feet... And then headed south, the wipers going full speed.

When I turned off Lakeshore Drive toward CTU, I found that all the west and south sides of the streets in the area were marked NO PARKING: STREET CLEANING. Naturally, the other sides of the streets were filled. I prayed for a parking miracle as I made my way up and down, side to side. No miracles today. The rain continued, gently this time. I drove down another street about six blocks from school. There went my plan to hit the library before class. But I did find one open spot and maneuvered into it. As I walked toward school, the rain picked up again. I barely had time to stop in the ladies' room for some paper towels (to dry my feet again) before class. The professor was late, too. He couldn't find a place to park either, poor soul.

After class, I did manage my library task (that's where Cathy is) and then headed toward the Post Office. Nowhere to park the car. The spaces allotted to 15 minute parking for the Post Office were all taken, three of them by taxis. I drove around downtown and tried again. Still no parking. So I just drove into the reserved spaces and hit the flashers, hoping for the best as I hoisted the three trays up the ramp for the Bulk Mail Unit (Open 10:00-4:00 Mon-Fri). No one was there. I waited a while, and a postal worker came through. "She's at lunch until 12:45." (It was 12:15.) "Didn't she put a sign?" No sign. "I can take care of that unless you have a payment." (I did.) "Well, just leave it here, and I'll put your paperwork and check by her computer, so if she needs to she can call you later." Okay.

As soon as I got home, I put on some dry shoes.

I was just finishing lunch (chicken noodle soup from a can) when the call came. Seems our Bulk Mail Annual Fee was overdue. I thought I had brought that the last time, and went hunting through the computer. There it was! But they had no record of our check of that date. I interrupted Sr. Helen at prayer to ask her where I could find a canceled check to prove we had paid the fee. I had the number and everything. Turns out it was last year's check. We did owe the fee. Apologized to Sr. Helen and called the Post Office. Made out the check and brought that with me, along with a small shopping cart for the nearby grocery. We have three extra souls here this week and their bodies need feeding. Got a few bargains at the store, though I almost left the cart behind several times. Made it home without spilling the cart over (almost). The rain was long gone. My feet were dry. The sherbet I scooped myself as a reward for all that lugging around of heavy groceries was good. And I made it to St. Peter's in time for Benediction.

Maybe we don't need that rewind button after all.

good news, bad news

Well, I got a call today from Mom on her cell phone--her own cell phone with the New Orleans area code. That's the good news. Her house has already accrued $9k worth of repairs--can you call it repairs when it only means ripping out of walls and flooring? An unknown number of unknown workmen have their house keys right now. That's just how things are.

My cousin went to check on her mom's house in a badly flooded zone. She could retrieve none of her mother's valuables: the whole first floor was covered with thick muck. The professionals have yet to give the word, but it looks as though the home, a unique piece of architecture, will have to go. And it seems that that news triggered chest pains in my other aunt, my godmother. I am praying for her right now. She doesn't bother to take the nitroglycerine the doctor prescribed for events like this... and her own home (my grandparents' place) was also sitting in water for weeks. I don't have much hope it can be spared.

So prayers for all the people who in these next days and weeks will face the effects of Katrina on what they left behind.

Ora est Labora

No, it's not a mistake. I really mean "ora EST labora"! This came to me this past week when I was given so many things to "read and pray over" between the class I am taking ("Theology and Practice of Prayer") and community stuff and the backlog of things I have lined up to "read and pray over" (for example, the Catechism, the new National Directory for Catechesis, the book from last year's symposium on religious life, von Speyr's book on Colossians, St. Ignatius' letters...). It can get really hard to fit in all that and still actually pray. And not neglect Scripture, either, let us remember.

But the real "labora" of it is that when things are "assigned" for reflection and prayer, then the prayer becomes subordinated to the other outcome (whatever the expected outcome is: "be prepared to share something on thus and so" or "bring the suggestions or decisions you have come to..."). That is what makes it less "ora" and more "labora" for me, and as someone who is very outcome oriented, the risk of turning prayer time into productive time (in the practical, here and now sense) is very real.

One of my many challenges!

Rest in Peace, Miss Shirely

Yesterday we received the news that our precious New Orleans volunteer, "Miss Shirley" (Shirley Richard) had died. Ten days earlier, she had been airlifted to San Antonio, dehydrated and disoriented. Once hospitalized, she recognized where she was and what was happening, although she was easily disoriented by anything upsetting. Overall, the stress of the past two weeks put more pressure on her 87-year-old heart than it was able to sustain. Surrounded by family (her sister's family) and accompanied by Sr. Kathleen of our San Antonio community, she was beautifully prepared to receive the Lord's invitation to life. Now, as Sr. Kathleen told her, her real participation in the Pauline mission begins. We look forward to the signs of her intercession for us, especially in this year we are especially devoting to vocations.

Books of Comfort

Beautiful news from Singapore where the local bishop authorized including information about the Books of Comfort program in the parish bulletins.

yahoo

I have finally got QuickTime 7 to playback my 3gp videos! So once in a while I may treat you to some audio-visual input. You will, of course, need QuickTime 7 to view it. (Go to apple.com.)

pet peeve

I hope I don't scandalize anyone here, but I noticed today that I get really irritated by pedestrians who hold their lighted cigarettes out to the side. It makes it very difficult to walk by them without getting a lungful of the stuff. (No thanks.) And sometimes I find myself in their shadow for an entire block! (I'm a fast walker, but there are lots of us. One time I was trying to get by someone and I almost tripped a bishop!)

Thanks!

I figured out how to read my blog stats and learned that Sr. Lorraine and Barbara Nicolosi are the very very best when it comes to blogs that inspire people to pay me a visit. Thank you, thank you.

I also learned that most visitors stay ... hardly any time at all.

Oh, well.

To those of you who do "come apart with me and rest a while," thanks!

Good Hearts

The first good heart I want to highlight in this brief post is the dear heart of Shirley Richard. Our elderly volunteer is preparing to open her heart to the joys of heaven. Doctors in the San Antonio hospital to which she was evacuated last week say that the strain was too much for her. Shirley is already promising to remember us in heaven.

Then there are the good hearts of the people at the dry cleaners in north Louisiana. My sister brought in a pile of clothes she had salvaged from her flooded home. The bill came to $300. Then the proprietors lopped off a generous $100 as their way of helping one family affected by Katrina. May God bless them.

And Miss Shirley, too.

Books of Comfort poster

I hope this works! I had to store the poster on my AOL ftp site in case you don't have access to msn. Please download the poster file and display in as many locales as you get permission for! You can print it in color or greyscale. Thanks!

Catholic Katrina stories

At first I was feeling really discouraged because the whole evacuation mess seemed like every man for himself, and the ensuing chaos was the natural result. I felt disappointed that the parishes, especially in the inner city, had not been part of the process: imagine if the parishes or diocese had had a pastoral disaster plan, in which all the people in a parish knew that when a call came to evacuate, they would meet at the Church and go to the shelter together. They could have even made it a kind of retreat, with Mass and Scripture and praying together, looking out for each other, etc. And that community could have saved lives and also souls, given that some people descended into animality under the brutish circumstances. And it seemed that this kind of soul-saving community had just not existed.

But now the stories are coming out.

The first one I heard was from the Vietnamese community: they really did "gather as Church" and stick together as a community and look out for each other, to the point of the priest being the last one to accept rescue.

Then I read about the Franciscans at St. Mary of the Angels, who lived on their rooftop with some 75 or 80 of the poorest of the city's inhabitants. After they were finally rescued (days of rooftop living behind them), one of the friars had to be hospitalized for dehydration and disorientation. There are shepherds who were willing to give their life for their sheep.

And yesterday's Tribune mentioned a woman who heads the department of Black Catholic Studies at Xavier University. She, too, led a group of people (mostly from Church) to shelter.

I hope we hear more stories like these in days to come.

And I hope the Archdiocese of New Orleans does implement a pastoral plan for disasters.

Concert in the park

It was a memorial concert for Sept. 11th. This was intermission, so you don't quite get an accurate image of the crowds. A colorful gathering, to say the least. And the music was provided by members of the CSO.

Another survivor's tale

This just in from my lifelong friend, whose job at a French Quarter hotel kept her in town during the hurricane and beyond.

I had an exciting adventure staying at the hotel during the hurricane.  Roof damage, falling ceilings, breaking glass all during the hurricane.  After Katrina left went walking down Canal Street.  Wind damage galore, but no water.  That arrived on Tuesday.  It only got as far as Iberville Street in the Quarter,  but we still had looting and shooting (heard, not seen) going on.  I did have my cats with me, but no way to get out as we had no electricity to work the car elevator to get our cars down.  And we still had 12 guests who wouldn't leave!  One of our employee's relatives went into labor on Wednesday morning.  Thought I was going to have to deliver my first baby, but I was able to flag an emergency vehicle and we got her out.  Wednesday also brought help from the mayor's office.  We got an army truck to take the guests to a safe haven and then the rest of us crammed into the few cars and trucks available to us and left (taking all of our pets).  I was stuck in the back of a pickup truck for 6 1/2 hours traveling from New Orleans to Brookhaven, MS.  During this trip we had a blowout in our truck.  When they got out of the truck and took a look at how red I was, they decided to try to rent another vehicle (thank God) and continue on our way to Jackson MS.  We were there 2 days before getting back to Baton Rouge.  Excitement and adventure and no deaths!  I have been giving thanks like crazy.

 

I know I have water in my house but cannot get back to see how much.  A tree fell on Dad's house and cracked the facia.  We hope we can get it fixed before it rains again.  Paul only had cracked windows.  The 17th street canal went into Orleans, not Jefferson.

 

My family is safe.  All else is stuff.  I feel I am one of the lucky ones

Add a link

Well, every time I try to post the HTML, the blogger thinks I am making a mistake and uses it. And I don't know enough HTML to tell it not to do so. So if you would like the code, go to this site to pick up the code and drop it in your blog. Thanks for sharing in the Pauline mission.

Something you can do

I learned this morning that our "Books of Comfort" program is still hardly off the ground in terms of contributions. We can barely send ten Bibles at this rate. BUT you can help! In my next post I will provide a link to a pdf file of a poster presenting the program. Feel free to download this file and print as many copies as you can reasonably post: ask your pastor, grocer, manager... about putting one on a public bulletin board.
I am also preparing HTML code that you can copy into your sidebar; it wouold put in an "Books of Comfort" icon with a link to the Daughters of St. Paul website.
First I have to manage to get that icon on my own sidebar!

More Good News

This just in from my mom's lifelong friend, who lives alone (except for the dogs) and suffered a stroke a while back. We sure were worried for her! I had left her an e-mail message from Day 1: Are you safe???

Look at the goodness people showed her all the way up.

 

Thank God you are all OK.  ME AND MY 4 DOGS DROVE UP HERE TO oHIO BECAUSE MY NIECE HERE PHONED ME to come and bring them with me.  People were so good to us.  God's angels took the shape( the major ones I remember) of a very pretty middle aged black woman who had a cattle ranch and got us gas to continue north. 
There was a frightened farm lady who allowed me to use the bathroom but seemed uncertain about what a woman would be travelling alone with so strange a lot of dogs.  There was a disrepitable white man who had been mugged at the l,ast rest area but had his cell phone and was able to contact his boss.  While he was waiting for his boss to come he saw me
struggling with 4 confused and sisable dogs.  He  called a highway rescue group and brought themn to me.  They made it possible for me to get to a nearby Quality Inn Which accepted me and my dogs for the night.  It was so good to have a comfortable bed and bathing facilities.We made good time the next day with gas and rest behind us.  Then when we stopped for gas the next day, 2 ladies saw our license tag and helped us to a 6 Motel , carried in our luggage, walked the dogs for me and Made it possible for us to have another restful night.   Some lady who looked like she really couldn't afford it pressed a $20 bill into my hands and sent me on my way.  I used it for gas.  Gas is high everywhere.  I was
grateful to that so kind lady.As we entered Ohio I went to an agreed upon rest area where I waited for my nephew arrived with his 2 boys strapped in their car seats and guided me to his house for rest, food, a bath and clean clothes.  They cared for me and the dogs and the latter did not want to leave.  Why do you want to get into that car again when these people are so good to us?  seemed to be their feelings.  My large girl dog broke loose from me when I tried to get in the house and ran back to the front door.  She thought I must be nuts to leave that house!   The youngest boy, Luke, was quite interested in the big dogs because he crawled on all 4s just like they did.  The older brother (2) was afraid of them at first, but ended up holding the leash of the big brown girl dog--who slowed her steps when she saw who was holding her-- and even petted the big black dog before we left.  Their dad got in his car and drove us to Columbus Ohio where my niece was waiting to guide us to her home in Ohio.  Here I am and here I may very well stay.

Book Plug

Excuse the shameless self-promotion, but since this may be the last year the book is available, I wanted to give it a little plug.

"Halloween Alternatives: Three All-Saints Parties for Home and Classroom" is on its way out of print, but copies are still available. It is your last chance to get a copy of this book full of ideas and reproducibles which yours truly put together years back from material previously published in MY FRIEND Magazine. (Admission: I am partial to Halloween. It is my birthday.) I just got a letter from a catechist in Illinois--she even sent pictures--telling me that this will be their parish's 4th annual "Holy-ween" and the kids love it. So click on the link to the right (under "My Books") to go to the Pauline bookstore on line and ... do what your heart tells you!

Survivor's Guilt

Last week, telling a friend that it looked as though my family had escaped major loss, I told her I had a case of survivor's guilt. She suggested that it might be too early for that diagnosis. She was right.

 

It's funny how the littlest tidbits of specific information about my family get to me. Last night I learned that my brother's 100-year-old home sustained serious damage. Something went through the roof, and through the attic, giving a skylight to a home that was not previously provided for one.

And Mom and Dad will probably not have enough insurance to cover their losses, either. (This hits me the hardest because Dad was edging toward retirement--he's already way past the usual age for it--and this will eat up what they had hoped would provide for their needs in extreme old age.)

But then you read more and more about the families who lost really everything, and maybe can't find their loved ones...

Our Vietnamese sisters report that this is an even more traumatic experience for their families. In some cases, it is the third time they have lost everything. One sister's family was from North Vietnam, and lost everything in escaping to the south, and then with the fall of Saigon and the aftermath of that, they again left everything behind to come here. And now a whole Vietnamese community is again in a refugee situation. I was reading in the Tribune about that today; the article pointed out that many of the Vietnamese in Louisiana had earned a living through fishing and shrimping, and the hurricane pretty much wiped out those means of livelihood for at least a generation. The shrimp "crop" was devastated, even if a boat or two happened to weather the storm.

 

Flood Map

An extraordinary interactive flood map. You can click any spot on the map and get the approximate level of flooding. Interesting and scary.

 

The "refugee" problem

Today's paper was full of reference to the vocabulary being used in the media to describe the "displaced persons" of the Gulf Coast. It seems that several major news organizations have established as policy that the term "refugee" is not to be applied to those who fled the Gulf Coast to find... refuge... in other areas. As you know, certain outspoken persons have declared that the term is racist.

This had me scratching my head for a while there.

If, before Katrina, you were asked to come up with a mental image of "refugees," very likely you would have pictured a throng of desperate people, and if they were generally people of color, most likely that is because the most recent waves of refugees we have seen in the news have been from areas like Sudan (think "lost boys") and Rwanda. Thirty years ago, the word "refugee" would have brought Asian images to mind (think "boat people"). And if you had mentioned the word around the time of World War II, probably many people would have thought of European Jews, refugees. Those who find the term racist and exclusionary, may be restricting desperation to non-Americans from the world's southern hemisphere. As if being American ever meant being a fair-skinned descendent of Europeans. (Which would make "refugee" an extremely racist term.)

I know I am treading on really risky ground here, being a nun of Franco-Irish descent and all (and remember, this is only my personal opinion), but my parents are living in someone else's hunting lodge in a Louisiana pine forest while their possessions, spared the foaming wrath of the flood, are being destroyed by mildew and fuzzy mold. They are, in a word, refugees.

fuzzy mold

The report from my sisters' salvage trip to Mom and Dad's is that, yes, the antiques are being corroded by mildew and that even the computer printer is growing fuzzy green mold. (My one sister being a fungi specialist, you'd think she's have taken a specimen to ID it.) So the water must have reached at least as high as the printer, on a shelf about 6-8 inches from the floor. In another mildewing piece of cabinetry.

Mom would sigh and say, "Life."
And that's a blessing.

Coming to New York

Our annual benefit dinner/concert on Staten Island has grown: not only will we be singing for the dinner/concert (December 1), we have 2 other concerts slated:

On Friday, December 2 at 8 PM we have a concert scheduled for St. Paul the Apostle Church in Manhattan (near Lincoln Center). The price of the tickets will probably be around $20-$25 depending upon all our expenses (we have to rent the use of the church and work with a sound equipment company).

On Sunday, December 4 at 3 PM we will have a concert at St. Paul's Church (it just worked that way, St. Paul must have had a hand in this!) in Princeton, New Jersey. There will be a modest charge.

 

For details on any of these events, please contact Sr. Nancy: snancym@aol.com.

Gloria Mundi

My dad used to quote St. Francis Borgia a lot. "Sic transit gloria mundi" (thus passes the glory of the world). One of those "gloriae mundi" that is on my mind right now is, embarrassing as it is to admit, the antique furniture in my mom's front room! Even though most of it has been in the family for over 100 years, it has never been sitting in flood water. (Maman's house was up on a terrace, and the French Quarter house on Rue St Philip, well, I don't know that it ever flooded.) So... "sic transit." As Teresa of Avila commented "All things pass away; God never changes."

Safe!

Finally, we have word about my cousin in Biloxi! She, her husband, son, daughter-in-law and grandson are all safe!

still a wreck

It's me. I'm still pretty much a wreck, although I have slept for three nights in a row now. Can't imagine for those who have lost home, job, loved ones... For me, it's mostly in my imagination of "what might have been"--and in a certain nostalgia for the New Orleans of my memory. So much of that has truly been revealed as fictional.

There are some funny stories to tell, though. (You gotta laugh, you know.) Like about my niece, Erin, the animal lover. Her pet snakes are still at home, toughing it out. I guess snakes are fine without food for a while. While I was still at home with my family (barely two weeks ago), Erin had bought a rat to feed "Sneaky" (the snake). She nonchalantly dropped the rat into the snake's cage. Well, the rat didn't take kindly to the idea of being Sneaky's lunch. So the rat bit the snake. Erin reached in, grabbed the rat and dropped it in another cage and then took the snake...to the vet...for a shot and to have its wound irrigated. When she got home (with her bandaged snake), she faced a new sort of dilemma. What to do with the rat? "You can't feed it to the snake now," her Mom informed her. "It's in a cage! It's a pet!" So while the snakes were left at home, Erin brought the rat, her family's two dachshunds and the two cats (one of whom was the Animal Hospital blood donor for a while; I think its name was something like "Plasma") into exile with her. They should be in Mississippi sometime this afternoon. (Mom will be glad to have the rat's cage off of the top of the refrigerator in the cabin they are using as temporary residence.)

 

what's going on

Heard from another cousin today. Just to give you a glimpse of life on the ground...

 

My son and I drove to N.O. last night and picked up my father (no easy feat). We were scared because after leaving Monroe we realized  there was a scarcity of gas (absolutely no gas available, stations roped off and guarded by police) in every  city thereafter.  We drove at 60  mph and with windows down to conserve gas.  At Manchac we were stopped by state troopers and told to pull over because we could go no further.    My sister and her son then drove my father to Hammond to meet us at 10:30 p.m.  We still don't know if they had to get in the line up to enter Jefferson this morning or not. ( Area code 504 isn't working on cells
therefore we text message and can't always hear back right away.)    It  was like being in Nazi Germany with the checkpoints and not being able to get any further, no gas etc.. All we saw going into N.O. was military  vehicles, other state troopers and numerous other work
vehicles.   We arrived back in Monroe at 3 a.m. Prayers got us there and back with no major problems. Uncle Budddy was not interested in leaving and is staying put with no electricity or running water.  My sister and her family are picking up water and MRE's every two days and delivering it to Uncle B.  My sister and her whole family are nurses and are working.

Found!

Miss Shirley, our steadfast and well-beloved volunteer from the Metairie book center, was found among the evacuees and after being treated for some medical issues related to the evacuation, she is now with our sisters in San Antonio!

What a wonderful world

This in from the New York area; as horrific as this catastrophe is, it brings out so much good, too. (Why can't I remember that God really does make ALL things work together for good?)

We are praying for the people in New Orleans. We sent 100 guys yesterday. Today a man who owns a commercial airline business called and said he had a plane all set to go from Newark if we could fill it with firefighters. It was booked in 5 minutes by 75 volunteers using their vacation time. WOW Where do we get these people from? Keep praying  it must be working.

Hosanna in the Highest

Sounds a bit contradictory, but today at the "Holy, Holy, Holy," I had in my mind's eye a kind of image of crowds of people in shelters around the south participating in various worship services. And I could really envision some of them giving thanks and praise to God for surviving the ordeals they had been through. I tried to unite my praise with theirs, as many of them said with Job, "'The Lord gives, and the Lord has taken away. Blessed be the name of the Lord." I know there are persons who are that heroic, and in whom grace is that strong.

"Books of Comfort" program

My community is seeking to address the spiritual needs of people whose lives have been seriously affected by loss and disruption due to the hurricane. Our  "Books of Comfort" program features a children's book called "God is Here... When Bad Things Happen". Donations will be used to provide this and other helpful titles to families in the Gulf Coast area. (Donations for this project may be sent to Daughters of St. Paul, "Books of Comfort," 50 Saint Pauls Avenue, Jamaica Plain, MA 02130.)

 

Here is something about the children's book, which is really ideal because it includes pages for parents, allowing the book to facilitate the whole family's processing of the ordeal and its aftermath. ($8.95 sponsors a copy of this full-color book.)

God Is Here...When Bad Things Happen  
It is important for you to keep reassuring your children in these days, offering them a framework of safety, stability and faith. But in this tragedy you may be searching for this faith yourself. God Is Here… When Bad Things Happen gives you activities and ideas that will help your child talk with you about what they are feeling after this tragedy and offers you ideas to help you pray together about these painful experiences.

God Is Here… When Bad Things Happen is both a storybook for children and a guide for parents and teachers. Explaining the presence of suffering in our lives through the endearing tale of Jeremy and the friend he loses, God Is Here...offers activities and questions for dialogue with children, as well as reflections to help adults deepen their faith and mentor the young.  Annotated pages provide a means for parents to deepen and apply story themes in a practical way.

 

more news

Well, family news this time. One sibling's home is perfectly fine; two siblings' homes have inches of water in them, as do my parents'. My aunt is in the flood zone, and this just in about more extended family (about whom we were quite preoccupied):

We also have some news of great relief.  My godmother, her husband and their son stayed holed up at their residence [in Lakeview] and are reportedly fine.  Just a few minutes ago I received a cell phone call from the son telling me of their hair raising experience over the past several days.  From what I was able to learn in this very brief conversation, there is potable water and food in the house.  But alarmingly they have four feet of water inside their living quarters.  [Note from Sr. Anne: this is a one-story house.] Further, he has observed roving bands of armed gangs trolling up and down the neighborhood looking for anything they can plunder, including drugs, he suspects.  He is an auxiliary Orleans Parish deputy sheriff licensed to carry a weapon which he says he has with him and seems perfectly willing to shot first and ask questions later.  I believe this is very prudent thinking for anyone living down there in that lawless territory at this moment. 

So big prayers, please.

Found

Here's good news from my sister:

I was able to locate Dr. Smith, an ER physician in Il. through a kind staff person in the medical staff office of Mt. Sinai Hospital.... I left messages and an e-mail address for her and she called me back--she is trying to make arrangements to bring her cousins to Chicago. Thanks for your effort. Most ER physicians aren't listed in the yellow pages because they don't have regular patients. That's what stymied us. At any rate, the three sisters are in a Baton Rouge shelter tonight, and hopefully they will be reunited with their family soon. 

More news

We have several Vietnamese sisters whose families emigrated to New Orleans as "boat people" after the fall of Saigon. Here is some news about one portion of the Vietnamese community in New Orleans

8-31-2005: 300+ Vietnamese people stranded at the church in waist-deep water. Rescue helicopters came by but was unable to pick up people because they were always too full already by the time they get out to Versailles. Told the people they should head to higher ground so many people who could, then moved to Alcee Fortier by the VN stores. Some of the sicker people stayed behind at the church. The rescue team said they would be back soon with food and water.

9-1-2005: People waited all night for the rescue teams who didn't return until the next day to give them food and water.

~9:30am - An 18-wheeler arrived and took about 50 people.

~11:30am - A second one arrived but was threatened with guns. It left with about 50 more people. Five hours later and no more trucks have arrived. People fear that the gunmen have scared away all rescue attempts. There are still about 200 people left. The VN people had been taking shifts by the phone at (504) 254-2407. Only cell phones with the (504) area code can get through. A woman reported on the phone that things were getting bad, one of the men
had a gun to her husband's face!

~9pm - 2 more trucks arrive. Things looked to have calm down and no one was reported having been shot.

Then a translation of a report sent in Vietnamese:

I can briefly summarizes for those of us who can't read vietnamese very well. It basically says that the people in the church have been saved by the Coast Guard, they ahve been removed to the Superdome, then of course
as we all know they will be moved to the Astrodome. There is however, one family left because one of the family member is on oxygen and have a generator and the coast guard do not allow generator on their boat? (i'm
hoping i'm translating this right) So the priest stayed behind because he won't leave until the very last person leave, which is him. The coast guard promised that they will have a helicopter comes to pick up the family.

Jazz Prayer Service

News from our motherhouse:

Jazz Prayer Service in Boston

Sr Margaret Charles and Sr Mary Martha sponsored a Jazz Prayer Service at noon for the staff of Pauline Books & Media. The songs were from Aaron Neville (Bridge Over Troubled Water and I'm Singing you a Prayer) Just a Closer Walk (New Orleans Jazz Band) and another New Orlean's native - Harry Connick's City Beneath the Sea from Star Turtle. In between the slides of the Hurricane victims and the songs we prayed from the attached Psalm Prayers in Times of Distress.

See Photos by Sr Anne Richard at this site: Title: Jazz Prayer Service

Beware of Commenters

Sorry to say this, folks, but this blog has been under attack from a comment spammer. I am doing my best to delete comments that could trick you into navigating into a hacker's trap, but in order to thwart their evil intents, I am adding a security feature to the comment boxes. It is an extra step for you if you want to add a comment, but it does prevent spammers from filling my comment boxes with traps.
In order to protect yourselves, take note that comment spammers' input will be generic: it will not relate to the specific content of the post or of this blog. That alone should be enough to warn you of a potentially hazardous web link.
Sr. Anne

In search of Chicago connection

This just in from my sister Mary (a nurse, still on duty at Oschner Hospital); I'll do my best, but is there anyone else out there who wants to try to locate this relative?

 

I have three of the cutest little old ladies here who were rescued today from a flooded house. These sisters (last name Waters, how ironic) were carried by boat from their flooded home and are to be evacuated from the city tomorrow morning. Their only relative is in Chicago, a Dr. Sharon Smith. They think she lives on State Street. I cannot find an address on Google, and I am anxious to let this person know their aunts are alright. They have no means of communicating with her, and they have no other information. Can you use your super sleuth ability and see what you can find out? Thanks!!!

The Tipping Point

Did I mention this already? Gladwell, in his book "The Tipping Point" (I already told you you have to read it) describes the process that leads to the kind of moral chaos we are witnessing in New Orleans. Just as a healthy body can withstand a certain amount of infection--but once that threshold is passed, the body succumbs to disease, so also societies can tolerate disorder without falling apart. But when the "tipping point" is reached, the critical mass of disorder overwhelms the entire system. Evidently, this is something that can even be charted statistically. Once you pass the "tipping point," whether it is a matter of infectious disease or shoe styles or mayhem, the trend is transformed into a generalized condition which sweeps the entire organism or society. In a certain way, it would seem, people at that point surrender even something of their capacity to resist. The force is so great that only persons with heroic interior resources can withstand it. Perhaps in days and weeks to come, we will learn about some of those people. For now, we seem only to be hearing about those who have been swept into the tide of chaos, once a tipping point of disorder was breached.

What's that about?

You may be wondering about the post with the photo and the unhelpful caption "Two weeks ago in New Orleans."

As you can tell, it was taken on a corner. And it's not exactly in New Orleans proper, but in Metairie. The corner of Clearview Parkway and West Metairie. Who knows, maybe it is still above ground, since it is south of I-10. I took the picture while at a traffic light, on my way home from Mass at St. Christopher's. I know it's not the most picturesque spot in the environs, but it has a story.

When, on my last visit home, I saw a Krispy Kreme opening just across Clearview, I felt a kind of foreboding. Would Tastee Donuts make it across the street from the Wal-Mart of donut shops? That is why I really noticed it on my way home two weeks ago. Tastee survived the Krispy Kreme threat! You see, that particular Tastee Donut shop has a small but meaningful place in my vocation.

When I was 18, a full-time student at Loyola, with an evening job at Schwegmann's (see "Ain't Dere No More"), I used to go to daily Mass at Holy Name Church (on the Loyola campus). So as not to miss Mass on Saturdays, I would ride my bike to the parish church, St. Mary Magdalen (kind of the mother church of Metairie), for 8:00 Mass. But I was a little embarrassed by my own piety: a teenager getting up early enough on a Saturday to go to Mass! What are you, some kind of nun? So to disguise the real reason I was taking my bike out so early on Saturdays, after Mass I biked the mile or so down to the Tastee Donut shop for a dozen (glazed; I'm a purist). When I came home with the Tastee box (at the time, donut boxes were not flat!), my brothers and sisters were more interested in their contents than in my ulterior motive. So I got away with my Saturday morning Mass-capades with the help of Tastee Donuts.

I wonder how it's doing.

 

Ain't Dere No More

Last Christmas, my sister gave me a T-shirt that read, "Ain't Dere No More." Inside each of the letters was a running list of culturally significant New Orleans businesses that, well, wasn't there any more. ("Ain't dere no more" is kind of colloquial New Orleanian slang, spoken seriously only by "yats.") Anyway, just a few weeks ago, since I was going to be in New Orleans with my family, I brought the T-shirt to wear as a pajama top. And when I left, eight days ago, I folded it up and put it in the dresser drawer of the room at Mom's house that I usually occupy, along with my "New Orleans" copies of the Liturgy of the Hours and the Field Guide to Eastern Birds (and a few pairs of cotton socks).

"Ain't Dere No More."

Only now it's not just familiar New Orleans institutions like Schwegmann Brothers or McKenzies Bakery or K&B Drugstore or "Rosenbergs, Rosenbergs, 1825 Tu-lane." It's the City that Care Forgot--and suddenly, harshly, remembered.

I talked with my Claretian friend, also a New Orleans expatriate. (If you're from New Orleans, you know what I mean; no matter where you moved, or how long ago that was, you're always a New Orleanian.) It was so helpful to have cafe au lait (and chicory) with a similarly uprooted soul. One of the priests at St. Peter's here in Chicago spent 20 years in New Orleans. The pastor there told me that yesterday, Father spent most of the day talking with people about New Orleans, connected with friends from there, and blinking back tears as he found himself humming (all day) "Do you know what it means to miss New Orleans?" (Man, I didn't need to hear that.)

I am still in a kind of massive denial about all this. It seems impossible for a city to disappear. But with the mayhem that has broken out, the combined result of poverty, abysmal education and plan bad government, it is becoming apparent that the city will never be the same.

Two weeks ago in New Orleans

Two weeks ago in New Orleans

today

I have been able to contact more cousins today, and my entire extended family is accounted for except for two cousins, one of whom lived in coastal Mississippi. We are still hoping to hear through our family network about this cousin, her husband, and her son and his family. Our sisters from Metairie are being hosted by a generous soul in Baton Rouge. They even have electricity and hot water.

Last night, completely unable to sleep, I realized that I have to quit watching TV. It is too traumatic. Tomorrow, God willing, I will meet another New Orleanian in exile, a Claretian, for coffee. It will be a chance to cry with someone who understands this kind of unexpected grief. Who ever expected to grieve for a lost city? I guess the ancient Israelites understood that very well.

The chaos in the city is quite unsettling. The sinful part of me wants to use violence against violence. Not exactly "Christ lives in me," is it? But today's Gospel was so appropos: "Leave me, Lord, for I am a sinful human being." As I reflected on the scene, I noticed that Peter's confession of guilt and responsibility, his recognition of his  state, came after he had had an experience of overwhelming goodness and generosity, not castigation or intimidation. This is how Jesus effects a conversion. I need to pray for God's grace to touch those people whose lives are so marred that their only conscious (actually, unconscious) reaction to anything is destructiveness. Many of those people, of course, never had even the luxury of learning the first lesson about delayed gratification. Even though a catastrophe like this puts everyone more or less back to zero, the same people who were "haves" before are likely to rebuild and resume some replica of their former lives, while the former "have nots" will still not have the wherewithall to rebuild what they never built in the first place. When you live from day to day, there is nothing to put aside for a tomorrow. So I am praying that somehow while the poorest of the poor are sheltered in Houston, there will be a chance for the adults also to go to school to learn living skills like budgeting and planning and thinking in terms of life beyond the moment.

I am grateful that my family is safe. My sister is the only one in the immediate family who remains in the city, at her hospital post. Pray for her. A cousin and uncle remain on high ground in Metairie--this we know only from a text message received by yet another cousin in Michigan: "Buddy OK." Thank heavens for communications technology (when it works). Mom and Dad's hosts, my brother's in-laws, are more than generous. And my niece Erin was picked up in Baton Rouge last night, is with Mom and Dad now, waiting for her Dad to drive up from Mississippi to reunite her with her brother and sister.

Please keep up the prayers.

you can help

Wondering how to help with hurricane relief? I sent in a suggestion to my superiors taht we invite people to sponsore copies of our children's book, "God is here... When bad things happen" when families begin to return to the New Orleans area and parishes reopen. But until that gets authorized, here are a few ideas for helping restore the infrastructure and meet the first basic human needs:

 

The U.S. bishops have asked that dioceses make a special collection for the hurricane victims to be distributed through Catholic Charities USA.

Catholic Charities USA has a Web site for relief aid.

Knights of Columbus members and the general public are asked to donate to a disaster relief fund administered by Knights of Columbus Charities. Donors in the United States should make checks payable to Knights of Columbus Charities USA and send them to:

Knights of Columbus Charities USA Inc.
Gift Processing Center
PO Box 9028
Pittsfield, MA 01202-9028
Attn: Hurricane Katrina Relief.

Donors in Canada should make checks payable to Knights of Columbus Canada Charities and send them to:

Knights of Columbus Canada Charities Inc.
Gift Processing Center
PO Box 7252 Station A
Toronto, ON, M5W 1X9
Attn: Hurricane Katrina Relief.