Happy

Mardi

Gras!

Have a Blessed Lent!

I got this mask pin in Venice (with Sr. Julia!). (It reminded me of New Orleans.)

earworm

I don't know where I first heard the expression (or read about it, to be more accurate), but someone decided that the term "earworm" was just the way to refer to the music loops that play constantly in (some people's) brains. I say "some people's," because I have come to learn that not everyone has a perpetual soundtrack in their mind. I do, needless to say, and sometimes it can be sheer torture. Much of my earworm is dependent on music I have recently heard. Last week, for example the earworm was from choir practice, and it was a three or four measure loop of music I didn't even like!!!!! Oh, it was awful to have to listen to it over and over. You'd think it could be cured by listening to some other music, but it's not that easy.

Yesterday and today, thankfully, my soundtrack is (again) from choir practice, but this time we did late Renaissance music, so it is both lovely and prayerful.

Do you have an internal soundtrack? What are you listening to now?

Courage

I am afraid my post yesterday is a little too hard-hitting, as if I were accusing America of some kind of deliberate deception. No! It was just lack of fact-checking.

Misleading America

The Feb. 27 issue of America features an article by Msgr. Thomas Candreva on the recent Vatican document concerning homosexuality and seminary admission. In the article, Msgr. Candreva describes the Courage movement in terms that are quite misleading. It didn't sound right to me, but I've only had off and on association with the movement and its members. Not wanting to respond to America without checking on this myself, I called the Courage office this morning to verify that the description was not accurate and spoke with Fr. Harvey, the organization's founder. He was, to say the least, horrified at the mischaracterization of the movement's purposes. I am going to follow this with a description of the misleading statement and Fr. Harvey's clarification, but before I go on, please prepare to write to America editor Drew Christiansen (letters@americamagazine.org)  to inform him that Msgr. Candreva's article calls for some correction. You might also invite him to consider America's publishing a substantial (and correctly nuanced!) article on Courage itself. Imagine how much good that could do!

Okay, here's the summary of the treatment and Fr. Harvey's response:

Msgr. Candeva (page 21 of the Feb. 27 issue of America) says that, in regard to homosexual orientation, "Among the premises of Courage, for example, the most widely approved Catholic ministry to homosexuals in this country, is the capacity of homosexuals to change. The literature and presenations of Courage include powerful testimonies of men who attest that faith, therapy and a deep spiritual life have completely altered their inclinations, behaviors and lives." (Emphasis mine.)

Father Harvey was dismayed at this and immediately protested, "Oh, no, that is failing to make a crucial distinction between two kinds of healing. The first and most important kind of healing is from lust to chastity. That's our purpose: to help people live chaste lives. That's all. A second kind of healing would be coming out of the condition, and there are national organizations that focus on that (organizations such as NARTH: National Association for Research and Therapy of Homosexuality), and we refer people to them in certain cases..."

He kept repeating this in so many ways: Courage is not in the business of changing people's orientation or pushing them into change, but is entirely focused on helping its members to live chaste and holy lives.

This seems pretty important to clarify, especially because there are many members of Courage who are living chaste and holy lives (incredibly edifying lives) without being able to undergo a change of orientation, even when they have earnestly sought it and attempted reparative therapy. That's not a problem for Courage. We are all called to sanctity, no matter what our orientation or deep-seated inclinations. "Drives" aren't what drive people, in other words: we walk by faith.

somebody wrote my book!

Going to book exhibits like last week's "Festival of Faith" gives me a chance to catch up on looking over new titles. (Even though the books are right downstairs, I don't often give myself the luxury.) At the exhibit, though, you have plenty of time right there, so you can peruse books to your heart's content. And that is how I found out that somebody wrote my book. I mean one of the books that I was going to write ("one day"). It is called "Why the Mass Matters," and basically it takes the reader through the parts of the Mass, not just explaining what is going on or how to participate, but how that aspect of the rite developed in history.

I guess I can check that one off my list.

I hope I really will attend to my list before all the books I want to write are written by someone else. On the other hand, if the books are written and meet the pastoral need I meant to address, as St. Paul would say, "Christ is being proclaimed, and for that I rejoice!" (Good old St. Paul.)

Chair of Peter

This feast brings back memories of Rome, as you well might imagine. Actually, I just happened to go to St. Peter's on this feast one day while I was living in Rome. (When you actually live there, you end up not going to St. Peter's too often; it sort of becomes just another big Baroque church!) Well, Feb. 22 is definitely the day to go. The famous "chair of Peter" (upheld by four enormous Bernini statues) is covered in lit candles today. The whole of St. Peter's Basilica is replete with tapers--every horizontal (or even sloping) surface is set with blazing candles. And the Cavaletti statue of Peter, the one with the bronze foot worn smooth by pilgrims' touches, is done up in cope and tiara today.

By the way, it's a great day to pray for the Pope and his teaching ministry... (don't just light candles about it!).

yes and the problem of evil

A friend is going through a horrible time dealing with the realization that her husband is probably a psychopath of some kind. The situation got me thinking about evil, and then, oddly enough, about the mystery of our existence. I mean, God didn't just "set it and forget it" when it came to human life. We are constantly being sustained in existence. God is always creating us. So what gives when people choose to do what is evil?

I'm not going to attempt to answer that (!), but I want to share my reflections in the general area. It goes back to what Merton wrote about the "point vierge" in every human being; that "place" where we are brought into existence and kept in existence by God. Here we are totally receptive, open, vulnerable, incapable of resisting, because this is "where" we ourselves spring into being from God's creative will. We cannot refuse to be brought into existence.

Even death becomes a kind of arrival at the "point vierge"; the moment when the point vierge begins to extend to our whole being, because there is no longer an "outer" existence, but we are "one" inside and out, and come to our own center to fully receive ourselves from God.

If we are living as children of God, then no matter how disordered our life may be, ultimately we are one with our vulnerability and dependence, and to receive our existence from God without mediation is pure joy. If we are genuinely unrepentant in life, then even in and after death, we still receive our existence from God, but it is torturous to exist like that. We no longer have an "outer" being that we can pretend is our own realm; we cannot hide from ourselves that our existence is always received, always contingent, always dependent, always referred to another, always Gift.

As long as I exist, though, there is a "yes" in me. And there is a "yes" in every person I meet, so that no one is "all bad" and there is always hope that the person will re-claim their "yes," assent to it. There is always hope for conversion.

Philippine tragedy

A note from one of our sisters in the Philippines relates a dimension of the landslide that I have not seen in any of the U.S. news accounts. It seems that the landslide occurred on a hill that had previously been the site of illegal logging. The Philippine Bishops Conference came out just a few weeks ago with a statement or document on the negative effects of uncontrolled logging and mining, and people who have jobs in those fields were not exactly thrilled with what the bishops had to say. There has been a ban on both activities, but big companies are pressuring the government (even now!) to lift the ban so they can continue business as usual.

Just another example of human life being treated as of less value than marketable products.

 

faith and works

Today's first reading is that famous passage of the Letter of James, "faith without works is dead." I don't know if it is the New American Translation (the revised version) or just thirty+ years of familiarity, but I got a somewhat different take on the message today. There is that part where James challenges the addressee "show me your faith without works"-- and it suddenly became clear that faith is invisible without works, and not just any works, but the works of love that our world needs so much. Faith is "the evidence of things unseen" (according to the Letter to the Hebrews), and what is unseen is especially the love God has for us. We need to believe in God's love as much as we need to believe in God himself.

Latter-day prayer

It was pouring rain when I left for Mass this afternoon, so I took the "Pedway" as far as I could. As I was tromping up the stairs back to street level, I heard a man's voice coming from behind me. "Are you a Roman Catholic nun?" Yes, indeed. Turns out the youngish businessman had an aunt who was a Carmelite. How very nice. But he himself was "not Catholic anymore." Oh? "Latter-day Saints. You should look into it. Amazing truth."

The self-possession required to restrain me from bursting out with "Are you nuts?" also prevented me from saying anything more suitable. I am really awful when it comes to these pastoral "situations" when tact and wisdom are called for. (I'm much, much more adept at writing, which is, after all, why I started a blog!)

Believe it or not, the gentleman made several other attempts to pique my interest in the depths of doctrine to be found among the Latter-day Saints. I was happy when a "walk" light gave me the opportunity to bid him adieu (still holding my tongue).

Then in church, praying over the situation... ("Jesus, can you believe that guy trying to proselytize a nun? And in such a ham-handed way!") ... I realized that the over-the-top manner this man used in trying to "wow" me into investigating Mormon doctrine was a kind of hint that he was not all that secure in his newfound religion. In other words, folks, it's not too late to get him back to the Eucharistic fold.

So please join me in praying for Mr. Mormon Man, our fellow Catholic who only thinks he's "not Catholic anymore." We most probably will not have the satisfaction of knowing the outcome of our prayer, but surely this unusual encounter had to be a moment of grace...

It takes a theologian!

Yesterday's paper featured an interview with Fr. Robert Barron, a Chicago theologian and author (great writer) who has been entrusted by Cardinal George with, basically, inspiring a whole evangelization movement in the archdiocese. (Well, with the help of the Holy Spirit!) Barron is one of those enormous minds--he did an advanced course in philosophy when he was 19--but also very much a normal guy. He was expounding no the Super Bowl, and on the Rolling Stones performance, sounding very guy-like, when out of the blue came one of those things that would only ever cross the mind of a theologian. He was referring to "I can't get no satisfaction," a signature song for the Stones if ever there was one. And Barron's comment was, "How totally Augustinian!"

Eyes to see

The Gospels this week have had a lot to do with seeing--the other day, Jesus was in the boat asking his disciples "Don't you have eyes?" because they failed to perceive what his miracles meant. Yesterday, there was the blind man, brought to Jesus by a group of friends, and even when Jesus touched his eyes, he couldn't see straight. It took two times for the man to be able to see! And today we get a hint of what the disciples were averting their eyes from... "The Son of Man is going to be handed over, killed and then raised up." Some things you just don't want to face.

revival

Our central marketing office is experimenting with a new approach to our bookstore windows. This week we got giant posters for Lent, to be suspended in the storefront. Well, it exactly have the expected response... I mean in terms of bookstore promotion.

The posters are pretty simple, just a bare white cross in a blue background. But it was all the inspiration our street people needed last night, as several of them got together (as usual) near the Fire Department standpipe just between us and the 7-Eleven. Before you knew it, someone started singing Hallelujah (fueled maybe just a little by 7-Eleven's 99 cent, 20 oz. "King Cobra" brew). There was hand clapping and testifying in the front, while at the back alley door someone was doing a mighty fine rendition of the blues.

Life in Chicago!

Spread the Word!

Download the handy pdf file and help get the word out about my new Eucharistic Adoration book for kids! Wouldn't it be great if copies of the book could be present in Eucharistic Adoration chapels around the country? Well, we can at least start with people we know who are interested in promoting adoration and getting children started in a deep life of faith...

I forgot Valentine's Day!

Well, I remembered it rather late in the day. Not too late to remember some other good things. Like the way Mother Paula loved this observance so much, she called it "the feast of charity" and always led the community in a meditation on I Cor. 13 ("Love is patient..."). Or the Valentine's Day of the year 2000, when I was living in Rome, and had arranged with my Mom to get a couple of boxes of kiddie valentines. While the sisters were at breakfast, I delivered little envelopes to every door. Most of the nuns I lived with had never received a valentine in their life, much less a Snoopy one. (Valentine's Day is strictly limited to romantic relationships over there.) By the end of the day, I had about twenty notes and handmade cards from the sisters, who were utterly charmed by the idea of celebrating sisterly love in such a "simpatico" way. (I have their notes and valentines in my Rome scrapbook.)

So, whatever your Valentine memories, happy St. Valentine's Day! (So glad I'm not too late!)

Mother Mary Francis, PCC

I just got a note today from the Poor Clares announcing the death, on Feb. 11, of Mother Mary Frances. She would have been 85 years old today.

Sr. Margaret Charles and I met Mother Mary Frances at the Roswell monastery, when we were in New Mexico for a series of catechetical book fairs and talks. The sisters gave us the run of their guest house, and I had my first experience of plainchant and of just what "discalced" meant. We also spent an hour of recreation with the sisters (they were on one side of the screen, we on the other).

So may Mother Mary Frances' noble soul rest in peace.

look out for the leaven!

Today's Gospel has Jesus warning the disciples about the "yeast of the Pharisees" and the "yeast of Herod." Poor disciples! I'd probably jump to the same conclusion they did: "He's saying this because we're out of bread." You know, the natural thing is to interpret anything we hear in terms of what is on our mind. I think that is what makes it very, very hard these days to have a civil discourse about certain moral issues, but that is another issue. I just wonder what Jesus really meant here, in Mark's story. Is the "yeast of the Pharisees" different from the "yeast of Herod," or were they basically the same thing? Because it seems as though both the Pharisees and Herod needed to know the score; they needed to be able to control the outcome. In other words, they tried to keep the mystery out of life.

Eucharistic Adoration in Torino

The Olympic host city of Turin (Torino) is also the locus of ongoing Eucharistic adoration, sponsored by a kind of consortium of religious communities. They are keeping a kind of ongoing vigil, as an open invitation for the Olympians and their families and fans to spend some heart to heart time with Jesus. The web site includes (at least in the Italian version) downloads of the encyclicals on the Eucharist, and a message from Pope Benedict XVI. What a wonderful service!

Seeking Signs

Today's Gospel shows us Jesus, sighing in exasperation at the insistence of his contemporaries on having a "sign from heaven" to certify his mission. "No sign will be given," Jesus says.

Of course, when you have the Word, you don't need a sign. To insist on a sign in the presence of the complete Word is simply to reserve to yourself the capacity to determine the validity of the Word. Naturally, no sign is going to convince you to let go of your autonomy if you are predetermined to remain the judge of Truth. No sign can be given that is clearer than the Word.

But when Mary has appeared, she has given signs: the roses at Guadalupe, the spring at Lourdes, the miracle of the sun at Fatima... Mary is not the Word, and so even her motherly presence is not definitive. Mary accepts the request for a sign. Jesus cannot give a greater sign than who he is.

Mardi Gras: to be or not to be?

It's really not a question. Mardi Gras will "be" even if it not marked with a parade, because Ash Wednesday comes regardless of our circumstances. As for the parades and balls, people outside of New Orleans (and, surprisingly, a few people in the city) may not understand that if you "cancel" Mardi Gras, the lights of the city really would go out. Six months after the destruction wreaked by Katrina, the people of New Orleans need Mardi Gras. It is a sign of normalcy for us. (Besides, it is only the tourists who treat Mardi Gras like a bacchanal; for the citizens of New Orleans, it is really a big family day.)

Mardi Gras is a kind of declaration, as anti-American as it gets when you think about it, that human life is not ordered to productivity. Mardi Gras is anti-pragmatic. Those who insist that New Orleans should cancel its parades and balls and focus on the grim task of gutting homes and restoring infrastructure haven't yet said why these tasks (which are being done today and will be done on Ash Wednesday) should become the sole focus of life. What kind of life? Sober, hard-working, nose to the grindstone. A kind of puritan life, really.

God gave us a commandment for a Sabbath rest, and celebrations like Mardi Gras fit right in with that. "The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath." And Mardi Gras, too.

Remembering Lourdes

Today's feast of Our Lady of Lourdes brought me back to the pilgrimage I was able to make in 2003. It was my 25th anniversary year, and the beatification of the Founder meant that there was just an inkling of a possibility of going to Italy. So the sisters in my novitiate group (the seven of us here in the States) asked special permission to "tag on" a trip to Lourdes, as a way of acknowledging Mary's presence in our vocation and her accompanying of us for those past 25 years. Permission granted! (You have no idea how amazing that is.)

We weren't able to go all at the same time, but that year we all made it to Lourdes. I had accompanied our lay cooperators for the beatification, and after the planned tour, as they prepared to return to the US, my sister and I left by plane for Toulouse and then took the train to Lourdes. I took scads of pictures with a digital camera, only to have the memory card corrupt on me, losing not just the Lourdes scenes, but precious photos of the beatification itself. (God's sense of humor.)

Today I still have my own internal snapshots, though, and a lot more to thank Mary for.

 

Please come!

For those of you in the Chicago area, the archdiocese is holding its bi-annual "Festival of Faith": a chance to attend instructional workshops and presentations, meet thousands of committed Catholics, and peruse the Daughters of St. Paul book & media display (well, yes, there will be dozens of other exhibitors as well). It's next week, Feb. 16-18, and since I am going to be helping out at the Pauline book stand (but I don't yet know which hours; probably mostly around lunch time), it would be really fun to meet any nunblog readers out there.

I still don't know if my Eucharistic adoration book for kids will be ready for distribution by then; if it is, I'll be signing copies! Whenever the book does come out, I will be offering you a chance to help us spread the word about it. (Since this was a spontaneously written book, and not part of our publishing plan, it needs extra help in the way of promotion...)

 

priestly fervor

I sure was edified today. The priest who came to celebrate Mass in our community chapel is a novice in the Paulist Fathers. 53 years old, and in ministry for 26 of those years, he was looking for a way, not to settle in, but to give his priesthood broader reach. Most of his background is in campus ministry (and he manifests great enthusiasm for it), and even though he has only been in Chicago for ten days, he has already begun to craft a ministerial service to the downtown colleges. As I said, I was inspired. Let's give guys like him a big hand, make that two hands, raised in prayer!

Benedict's remarkable voice

The Church news service I subscribe to had a tidbit on a letter by Pope Benedict on the topic of the encyclical "God is Love." The letter was evidently written to accompany the publication of the encyclical in Italy's (and the world's, I think) largest Catholic magazine--one which had been (ahem!) founded by the Daughters of St. Paul. At any rate, what I find remarkable is that a Pope would himself prepare a pastoral "introduction" to a Papal document, with both the introduction and the document itself being made available to the ordinary Catholic lay person. I am delighted that the Pauline Family was able to give the Pope this new kind of "platform" for addressing the multitudes (indeed, Famiglia Cristiana has an enormous public influence in Italy).

Jesus and the spunky ladies

Today's Gospel made me think of Sr. Sabina, one of our Italian missionaries (really, a founder of our USA community), who died in Boston about 8 years ago. She was in her eighties and had had Parkinson's for at least a decade. To look at her, you'd think Sr. Sabina (whom we sometimes called simply "Bina") was a frail, gentle, delicate soul. Not exactly. She had a razor-sharp mind and a tongue that always spoke frankly. And she never called it quits. Even when she had been wheelchair bound for years, she still tried, occasionally, to ditch the chair. One of those times, she ended up on the floor with a broken hip. Actually, we don't know if the hip broke (osteoporosis) and sent her to the floor, or if the little rascal (she was quite petite) had been working her way out of the chair, or if the Parkinson's itself had caused a sudden movement that landed her on the hallway carpet. But since she was known to try to do without the chair, option B was a possibility. When the incident took place, at first I felt frustrated that someone would be fighting against such obvious limitations, but I began to realize that that kind of thinking can condition us almost to give up, but Sr. Sabina was not that way. And for a moment, I understood that this was something Jesus found charming in her.

Maybe it was something like that with the Syro-Phoenician woman in today's Gospel. Faced with a rough dismissal on Jesus' part, she did not just meekly accept it as "the will of God," but came right back at God himself, and God enjoyed the repartee.

I wonder, does Jesus expect us to be a little spunky with him sometimes, only to find us so conditioned by ideas of reverence that we don't respond to him humanly, leaving both of us let down?

heartworm

It's me. If you know how protective I am of my computer, you'd understand how sick at heart I feel to discover that it may have a worm, a trojan horse, a nasty virus. And I just reformatted its hard drive in September (and a lot of work that was!). Yukko. But reformatting is the only sure-fire way to get this out of my System...

 

Lucky Girl

Today's Saint is Josephine Bahkita, a former Sudanese slave. I was present for her canonization (in the same ceremony, fittingly enough, as St. Katharine Drexel), but had learned about her some years earlier, probably in the L'Osservatore Romano write-up from her beatification. As a child of eight, Bakhita (the name means "lucky," but it can be rendered "blessed") was kidnapped, as many children of the Sudan are today, and kept as a household slave. "Bakhita" wasn't even her given name; it was the name the slave-traders assigned her. It seems that the trauma caused her to forget her own name. Her body was marked with decorative scars from wounds that were traced with a razor and then rubbed with salt to achieve that desirable, three-D effect. Heaven only knows what other forms of abuse she suffered. She never talked about it. Eventually, Bakhita was sold to an Italian diplomat. Keep in mind that this is happening circa 1880, not in some pre-modern era. When the diplomat was recalled to Italy, he brought the slave-girl with him. It was there that she became acquainted with Catholicism. Meanwhile, she was still being held in slavery! Bakhita, now a Catholic, found herself drawn to the religious life, but her master refused to let her go. It took some outside intervention for this courageous young woman to be free to enter the convent. (What a bold person she must have been!) She lived a long life as a teaching sister in the Canossian order, dying less than 60 years ago, and was so full of faith that she blessed God for having been captured and enslaved, because in God's mysterious providence, she would otherwise never have come to know Jesus.

How many Sudanese girls are reliving the same kinds of trauma that little Bakhita went through! It is bewildering that her people are still being captured and enslaved, only now the whole world is watching, hesitant to intervene. Is it racism? Fear of the powerful Arab-speaking slave-runners? Guileless diplomacy with the government in Khartoum?

Speaking of Sudan, one of the best films at the Sundance Festival, according to Barbara Nicolosi, was on the "lost boys" who walked thousands of miles to escape forcible conscription, slavery or death, and were taken in by American families. It will be a movie to look for, even if it only shows in the art houses. Evidently, these young men are every bit as bold as Bakhita, able to appreciate what has been provided to them, but retaining the ability to critique it based on values that do not begin and end with themselves.

Blue Roof Blues (and other NOLA memories)

Well, I may be back in Chicago (brrrr!), but my heart is still full of New Orleans. Here's a picture I snapped on my way to the airport. I think it says something about the "come back" spirit that is so active in the Crescent City. The house in the background has the typical post-Katrina Blue Roof: a protective (sort of) covering of blue plastic sheeting. The "blues" part is that the protection lasts only as long as the plastic sheeting, and going on half a year after the hurricane (yes, the end of February will mark 6 months since Katrina), a lot of this plastic sheeting has been reduced to blue confetti on the neighbor's lawn. But you see that the blue roof in the foreground is intact. That is because, I kid you not, these enterprising souls had their new roof outfitted with a blue roof: yes, the house (and a little separate shed in the back yard) has blue shingles!

Good-bye, New Orleans

Good-bye, New Orleans

Today it's back to Chicago--and to winter. (Boy, do I know what it means to miss New Orleans!)

New Orleans Music

My cousin's husband, Paul Soniat (photo posted yesterday), has a gig at the "Parkway Tavern and Bakery" (funny name for a poor-boy place that, post-Katrina, closes at 7 p.m.). He plays there (on Toulouse, near Bayou St. John) on the first Saturday of the month. So yesterday several family members went there for poor-boys and music. I have Paul's CD, "Born in New Orleans" (made me cry during the worst of the flooding) and today I have news for anyone who ever worried that Katrina would deal a death-blow to New Orleans music. Paul has already written the first generation of songs dealing with the experience of destruction and loss from Katrina. The new blues are being written now. While Paul's song, "My Hometown New Orleans" (available as a download from the bottom of this linked page) is poignant with its references to "my mother's house is gone, my brother's, too" (Paul's mother did indeed lose her house, and it was his sister, not a brother, who also lost hers), I thought the song "Below the Water Line" was even more evocative with the refrain (these are the words I remember; it was a double couplet), "The water came in, didn't leave me a thing below the water line."

If you look in the photo, you can see that water line on the wall to the left. The proprietor's FEMA trailer is behind Paul. This being a sunny day in New Orleans, we ate outside, of course.

New Orleans' New Music

New Orleans' New Music

double whammy

On Wednesday, my Mom and I drove through Lakeview, one of the areas that was destroyed by a levee break following Hurricane Katrina. People have described it as "desolated" and like "a war zone." I'll tell you, it looked as though a nuclear bomb had gone off there twenty years ago, so few were the signs of life. Whereas most of the city (including nearby Metairie) is predominantly green and flowering (January here corresponds to May in Chicago or Boston), Lakeview was gray. One-story houses had been completely inundated by the flood, and were still tinted with mud and bits of plant matter. Almost all the trees had been downed. In one block, only three tall pines remained, while the trees that had once lined the street were reduced to tilted roots at severely buckled sidewalks. (All the trunks and branches had been cut away and carted to an immense pile on one of the district's "neutral grounds." There they were reduced to mulch--a three-story high, ten-block long pile of mulch.)

I went to St. Dominic's at the request of my friend Fred (who grew up in Lakeview). He wanted me to check the interior of the Church, but it was locked. They have weekend Masses there, and during the week only on Tuesdays and Thursdays. So I took a picture of the statute of St. Dominic--you can find post-Katrina photos of this statute with water up to his chest. There is still a water line. Mom tried to get my picture next to the statute, but it is way too tall for a photo like that to work out. (Sorry, Fred.)

Mom and I went to see how the houses fared in which our family members had lived at one time or another: Aunt Aline's house on Catina Street; my brother's old house on General Diaz; my Aunt Maxine's on Marcia, a bit further south. As we drove through the neighborhoods, I was struck by how different it is here from what I had become used to in Metairie, not even a mile west. Metairie had widespread flooding, but only 6-9 inches, in general. Almost all of the businesses are open, even if for only a few hours, and most of the homes are in some stage of restoration. Trailers mark 70% of the properties, and you see mothers meeting their kids at the bus stop to walk them to the trailer that serves as their home. But in Lakeview, we saw no open businesses. And as for trailers, there was only one or two every two to three blocks. Homes under restoration? The exception, rather than the rule. More homes were lost here than in the more talked about 9th ward, but this was a better-off area--in general. Really, the homes were a mix of everything from bungalows and ranch houses to imposing mansions, but they're all in the same state now.

And as if that weren't enough, on Wednesday night, just hours after Mom and I had been through the area, an incredible thunderstorm came through. It woke me up and had me praying for Jane, whose trailer was being buffeted by wind and hail. That's right, hail. Three tornadoes touched down, wreaking new havoc on the city, and destroying even more of Lakeview, adding insult to injury.

And today's Times-Picayune further enlightens readers on the famous $85 billion that the White House authorized for Katrina projects, and to which the White House keeps pointing: that money is earmarked for FEMA's expenses and the Federal Flood Insurance payouts--it was not $85 billion besides those expenses, but for them, with whatever is left over available for other needs. Now there is talk of another $18 billion, but this is for military expenses and loss in the area, not for rebuilding. And there are still 400,000 people without their homes, and businesses starved for workers, because potential workers have no place to live.

Remember that line from the musical "1776"? "Is anybody there? Does anybody care? Does anybody see what I see?"

Book Lovers' Blog

Wonderful news for all you book lovers out there! Sr. Julia, my #1 source for great reading recommendations, has started a "Best Catholic Books" blog! You can all thank me for this, because not only did I urge her to this undertaking, I also actually created the site for her and have been guiding her first blogging steps. She is about to do her inaugural post right now. Please visit Sr. Julia sometime later today and welcome her and her great insights into the blogosphere!