The Bishop of LA Speaks

The Bishop's Blog: What I Would Like To Say To President Bush

Our mid-trip message to home.

John O's Sermon

When I arrived in New Orleans at the beginning of this trip, I didn’t know what to expect. Last year, we spent at least an hour looking for a place to stay before finally settling down in a circus tent. This year, thankfully, we already had housing accommodations, and work arranged for us. Each day, we had an option of either working with kids in the 9th ward, or doing demo. And rebuilding. I decided to work with the kids attending a church-run camp you have probably already all heard about called Camp Ubuntu.

On the first day, I was basically shunned by all the kids in the camp, except for one girl whose name was P. She was a little 7 year old girl who I had played a game with when we took a field trip to the roller rink. For some reason I felt the need to come back the next day, so I did, and I was told to keep an eye on S. He was an energetic “almost 9 year old” kid – a kid revered by the rest of the Camp Ubuntu kids, who would sometimes lead the whole group into trouble. In following him around, we became friends to the point where he rallied the rest of the group together to chant “God Squad” during a laser-tag game between our God Squad group and a youth group from a church in Berkley. Throughout the trip, I became more attached to these two kids, and they to me. The final day of working with them was by far the hardest. It would have been hard enough just saying goodbye, but we had heard one day earlier that Camp Ubuntu was having to shut down due to some kind of administrative problem – we didn’t get the details.

When we arrived at the church where we were going to say goodbye, there were only two kids there. But more showed up within an hour to say goodbye and to get a free lunch. I was inside the church when I heard from one of the kids that P and S were outside. P was getting some lunch while S was sitting on a bench crying. After a bit of talking, I convinced S to come inside for a game of pool. We said our goodbyes and I prepared to leave about 45 minutes later. I was sitting in the van ready to go when I heard someone shouting the news that P's’ mom had AIDS. Apparently she had had it for some time. I got out of the van and saw S, and a few of the other kids standing on a street corner and looking down the street towards P's house. There in the middle of the street, I saw an ambulance and P's bone-thin mother waving a weak goodbye to her daughter who was standing on the front porch, looking stunned and scared. The kids told me that P's mother was not expected to live through the week. I hugged P, told her some words of comfort, and walked away. I didn’t make it across the street before breaking down in tears. It stunned me. Spending less than a week with these people and I already loved and cared for them so much. Brother Rodger of Tiaze wrote a letter stating “God is love.” The love I felt for these kids and their well-being was truly an act of God. So that is why I stand here now; to spread love, and in doing that, spread God. Because we are the God Squad.

Nate's Sermon

Due to the supply and demand nature that is consumerism, many people strive to earn as much money as they can so that they may be able to buy the latest in styles and technology. On this path to wealth and what we might see as happiness, we tend to take more pride in possessions in a similar way to what the Gospel reading tells us. Though we may be living with these riches and comforts, the same cannot be said with many of the people living in New Orleans.
Upon arrival in New Orleans, I was again surprised, as I had been on the previous mission trip, by the sight of widespread destruction that had not been rebuilt or repaired. Though there were some changes here and there, even after two years, there is still plenty of work to be done.
On my first day of work, I was privileged to assist in the gutting process of a home belonging to a man by the name of Mr. M. As we first pulled up to his house, it pained me to see the large mounds of clothing, books, toys, old vinyl records, and many other belongings lying in heaps of rotted wood, insulation, and drywall. Going inside of Mr. M’s house painted an even more sorrowful picture of the devastation the storm brought, with gaping holes in the ceilings and walls, and even more belongings scattered amongst the debris. Mr. M had been hard at work inside the house that day long before we even got there. The reason for this was because the federal government had given him a court date the next day to fight for ownership of his home because it had not been gutted within their time standards. Though the government had been sending him warnings, they had been sending them to a wrong address. By the time Mr. M got one he did not have much time to prove that work had been put into the gutting of his home. With a clear idea of what had to be done, we set off to work. And boy, did we work. Through the soreness of my arms and sweat off my brow, I was somehow able to feel a sense of satisfaction of drywall crunching and sending shards everywhere as the swift judgment of my crowbar was served. At the same token, I also had some qualms about ripping down pieces of what held innumerable memories and served as a sanctuary for the M family and other families for a fair number of years. During this process, I found myself asking how I’d like it if someone jubilantly smashed through my house and did not share the same pain that I had felt in its destruction. Although I could easily say that I would know what had to be done, I knew that if I was in Mr. M’s shoes, I would not readily have an answer.
Another job we had to do while gutting the home was to empty out cabinets and closets of belongings to see if Mr. M still wanted them. I was shocked to see that Mr. M told us to throw away numerous things such as old letters, old china, and other keepsakes. Even if some were useable, he told us to discard many of them. Personally, I felt that if my house were to have suffered the same amount of damage, I would try to salvage as much as I could for sentimental purposes. It was not until I read today’s Gospel of Luke that I became cognizant of the implications of Mr. M’s decisions to keep or throw away. The Gospel tells us not to store for ourselves treasures that could easily be easily affected by the elements or thievery “for where your treasure is, your heart will be also.” Mr. M was able to let go of the physical bonds he had with these items because he kept the memories and emotions that they actually represented within his heart where no hurricane or thief could ever come near.
The destruction also brought a few surprises. It was a bit heart-warming to see that new forms of life, such as frogs and lizards, had taken refuge in the debris within house. This showed me how true the saying of how “Death brings new life” really is and reminded me that Mr. M had a chance to start fresh out of the wreckage. He just needed our help. Mr. M was indeed ready to move on from the challenge that God had presented him with even at the “unexpected hour.”
Instead of focusing on gaining more material possessions, I believe that we should focus on building aspects of our life that are more important such as building the bonds with our families and each other. Through the bonds that we create with other people, we may be able to overcome struggles such as poverty. Even if a storm destroys everything we own, as long as we have each other we can get through those harsh times.
Though I was, at first, a bit skeptical about going back to New Orleans because of the lesser work we had done in Mississippi, I believe this trip has given me the most worthwhile experience in my life. Not to mention some of the hardest manual labor that I’ve ever had to do. I think I actually gained a few muscles. I would like to thank all of you for your generosity, support, and prayers in this venture, and for allowing us to make treasures in our hearts that will last us a lifetime.

Rob O's Sermon

The work we did on this years mission trip was, in my words “flipping hard”. It’s been nearly two years since hurricane Katrina and there is still much work to be done, and this year Godsquad rose to the challenge and did our part in helping those victims of the hurricane. As I said before, the work we did was very hard and exhausting. Many of us were sore and tired during the first few days of work, but there was also a great sense of satisfaction in the work we did. I discovered this after my first day of work where I gutted part of a house. For those of you who don’t know, gutting is the term that is used when ones house is “systematically” stripped of its walls, ceiling, and everything else, until only the frame is left standing. So our job on this day of work was to rip out the sheetrock walls and ceiling. The work itself was tough: having to pull and rip down sheetrock with a heavy crowbar, but it was really the heat and humidity of New Orleans that caused one to fatigue and tire. Towards the end of our work, our group leader asked for volunteers to pull down the drywall ceiling. I was tired, but I volunteered anyway and proceeded in pulling down the ceiling. Every time we pulled down a piece of drywall, black dirt and debris would come falling down on top of us and when I walked outside after we were done my whole body was caked in a layer dust and dirt and whatever else had been sitting in that ceiling for years. I was tired and very dirty, but I felt like I had done some real work that would be helpful to the people we serviced. Over the next few days of work we gutted, painted and rebuilt more houses and after every day I felt that same sense of satisfaction, that we were doing good work, almost every day of the six days that we worked.
In the reading from Isaiah 1:1-20 God is telling Isaiah that he is frustrated with all of the animal sacrificing and burning of incense that people are doing in his name. The reading is meant to teach us that it doesn’t matter if you go to church every day and praise God or if you sacrifice a hundred bulls in the name of God. What matters is that you are a good person who strives to do good, or as described in Isaiah “seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, and plead for the widow”. On our trip I discovered that I feel Gods presence much more when I am doing good deeds like gutting houses and painting, than when I’m at church. I’m going to be honest with you. I usually only come when I am called to acolyte, but I would rather be showing my spirituality by getting caked in dirt than by sitting in a pew any day.

Adrian's Sermon

"Let the little children come to me,
and do not hinder them,
for the kingdom of God
belongs to such as these.
I tell you the truth,
anyone who will not receive
the kingdom of God
like a little child
will never enter it."
Mark 10:13-16

While in New Orleans, one of the volunteer opportunities available to us was to staff Camp Ubuntu, set up by the Episcopal diocese in the area for the poorest kids. The world they live in is something like East Oakland, if it was put through the blender that was Hurricane Katrina. They were hit the hardest, because they are the poorest, and lived every day in the ghetto.

It's a little surprising, but the first words that came to me when I met these kids were "child soldiers". They reminded me of children in Africa, drugged up and gunned out, fighting the wars of adults they didn't understand. Quite frankly, they scared me at first. It wasn't because I was afraid they would hurt me in any way. It was because the life they lived was so radically different from mine, that I felt of afraid of the unknown. Ignorance of their lives and who they were caused me to fear them at first. I have always lived with a loving and supportive family, a mother and father who were always there when they could be- many of the children had parents who had left or died. One of the girls has a mother dying of AIDS. One of them has seen his father shoot a man. I have always lived knowing I would have a home- I have no idea if they have a safe house, or a place of their own. I was taught to love and abide to a code of morality- life has taught these children to grow up and survive the hard way. It was frightening to see how good they were at stealing and pick pocketing. One of the older girls said to me "so what- stealing isn't bad." It's not that she was trying to be malicious, but more that life in the Katrina ghetto had taught her that stealing was a way of survival, and showed me again how life for many of us has been soft, compared to these child soldiers, forced to grow older.

But here is the amazing thing: these child soldiers, these tough kids, were just that- kids. They were small children, sometimes lost and often afraid. For all the toughness they put up to defend themselves, for all of the nightmares they had seen, and all the knowledge they had of the world, they were still small children. When swimming with them, some of them broke down, the walls of the little soldiers they had made crumbling down into the water, which had taken so many of their relatives and friends. Some of them clung to me, afraid of also slipping away under the water. Their faces, when afraid, looked like the faces of any other child- scared, teary, panicked. They asked for help like any other child, and in that moment you could see innocence and fear shining through, a childlike questioning of the world and the unknown. There was one boy who was the toughest, hardest, most grown-up nine year old I had ever met, strong enough to LIFT and squeeze my 166 pound frame with his tiny arms. Yet, he also proved to be still a child. When we were leaving, he jumped into the van, and when asked if he wanted to come back to California with us, he answered "okay, let me go ask my mom.". Let me go ask my mom. Forget that California was almost a country away, and forget that we had just met him a little more than a week ago. He loved us, and was willing to trust us, like any other child I've met. That was another moment in which I saw God shining through. It turns out that his mother works at the zoo, and that when we went with them there, he was very happy to see her.

It is so easy to judge these kids and forget them. Many take one look and say "just another black kid in the ghetto." By saying that, we doom them to always being looked at that way, and we become just another part of society that lets them down. They have been let down by many who should care for them most- the community. The government, the runaway family members, even the Episcopal church in the area threatened to let them down. Without the community to raise them, they forced themselves to survive by becoming tough. It is when a child becomes tough like this that God seems to be snuffed out- the childlike holiness and innocence, the possibility that is a small child is closed off, forgotten. However, these kids showed me that even in the face of the most dire circumstances, God shines through even the angriest child in questions, in fear, in sadness, in blind trust. When these kids let down their defenses, they are all the more willing to love, and it showed me again that all people can be that way. Ubuntu is an African word, and in some translations means "I am because the community is." I am, because YOU are. Without YOU, without US, I am NOTHING, and God is hidden. In order to be children, the community is needed, love is needed, and in that instant, God shines through. That is what these children need, so that they can be the children they are born to be.

-Thanks,
Adrian

Kori's Sermon

The first day of work, I chose to help volunteer with the kids from camp Ubuntu. Since I had never done anything similar to this, I wasn’t really sure what to expect, other than to play with a group of children from a different state that were less fortunate than me. I had feelings of trepidation yet I was also excited for I knew I was there helping in some
way doing God’s work. When I first got there, it seemed as if the younger kids clung to us like glue, but the older the kids got, the further they would stand from us. It was almost as if the older they were, the greater the feeling of hopelessness. It was then that I knew that I could not change the world entirely, but I could definitely make a small, yet significant difference. As the day went on, slowly they became more comfortable with us.
One little girl I became very attached with was a girl named O.

O, a girl of just eight years, lost her home to Katrina and had to survive in the Superdome with her family during the aftermath. Two months before the dreadful hurricane, her brother died in terrible car crash. Obviously scarred by these catastrophes, she showed no signs of emotional distress. She chose to live her life as best she could under the circumstances. She is a happy, vivacious girl who taught me how to roller
skate at the local roller skating rink. We became quite attached to O and the other kids. When we finally had to say goodbye to her, she cried and it was a sad but telling moment. I have a feeling that this was the first time she had done that in a long time and it was probably good that she was finally able to get her emotions out. She will be in my memories forever.

Other memorable moments include the time when we arrived at Tulane University and were paired into groups with five kids with two other youth volunteers. The kids were in swim practice, learning how to swim for the first time and getting over their obvious fear of water. This was due to past memories of being trapped on roof tops watching their very livelihoods float away. For some this seemed like no big deal, but for most, it took all of their courage to get in the water. With the help from us and the swim instructors, they slowly got comfortable enough to play in the water and grow in their water abilities and skills. For somebody like me, being on the swim team, this was remarkable to see and experience. I will never take this luxury for granted again.

There were so many moving and memorable experiences that it is hard to put into words and describe. Whether it was installing sheet rock, pulling out nails from banisters, priming and painting security bars, or planting a garden and grass for an elderly lady named Miss C, it was all hard work but extremely gratifying. Seeing the joy on the faces of those we helped was very spiritual and is something that will be ingrained in my thoughts for the rest of my life. Although we worked with people of varied backgrounds and some cases color, I feel like we were able to break down the walls of social and economic differences. Personally, I have a better appreciation for life and have made friendships that will last a lifetime.

I would like to say thank you to all the Mission Trip Supporters, families and friends of St. Paul’s and all who had us in thoughts and prayers. Thank you and thank God for this opportunity.

Leslie's Post Trip Reflection

As I’m writing this, I find myself alone at my dinner table, parents out to dinner in SF, brother upstairs playing computer games; home sweet home. I miss the noise of the parish hall at St. George’s and the crazy rules of the heart room. Now that I’m back at my place of residence I’m thankful for my queen-sized bed, but my heart hurts for NOLA and the community we built. I have been lucky enough to do a lot of traveling in my life, but I have never had the privilege to experience what I have just returned from. (With the exception of last year’s mission trip, of course!) It seems as if the God Squad has boundless love to give that spills over to touch every person we meet or encounter. Like a grad student addicted to lattes, I think God Squad is addicted to service. It’s like we can’t get enough, and I think it is that attitude that makes it possible for such an amazing community to form in the face of such devastation. When you ask someone to grab a soda for you, they actually say, “Yeah, sure.” instead of the usual, “Get it yourself!” When you ask someone to listen, you know that they’ll put everything else down until you finish what you have to say. These wonderful people encourage me to do my work with that much more enthusiasm and give me a little hope for this crazy world we are about to inherit. With this in mind, I salute us, and hope that we can be an example for a better, more loving world in the future. Thanks for everything guys; keep up the good work.

Sent

Thanks, God.

I arrived at St. Paul's,
barely ready to go.
What was i getting into?
Only God would know.

We reached Louisiana,
and its hot summer heat.
Where cool breezes and cold waters,
were always a treat.

As we began our work,
I started to see.
Why Jesus had sent us,
why he had sent me.

The damage of New Orleans,
truly opened my eyes.
All that pain and destruction,
that i had not realized.

I painted houses,
put in floors,
tore down walls,
and put up doors.

Amongst all the hurt,
i fell in love with their culture.
When food came around,
they would call me a vulture.

10 minutes 'till we leave,
it hurts my heart to say goodbye,
Why God created hurricanes,
i have no idea why.

Now i know why i came,
and why i left i'm not sure.
But when God closed that window,
He opened a door.

I know i'll come back,
to this city i love.
And continue my service,
to our God up above.

Sammy Forcum

PICTURES

Sarah's online photo album
Enjoy!

Time ticks by

(Caroline & Liz)

Sitting in the airport, watching as the time ticks by toward our arrival home, I realize how much I miss about home, and how much I will miss about New Orleans. I will miss working to mend this broken-hearted diva of a city, and the unique feeling that comes along with being covered in a layer of sweat beneath a layer of dirt beneath a layer of paint. But perhaps more even than that, I will miss the people, the community that I have grown so accustomed to waking up and working and singing and laughing and crying with for ten long days.

I spent yesterday winding down, trying to organize my suitcase and my thoughts so that I could bring it all back and tell our story. We have done so much, and it has all affected each of us differently. There is so much to tell, and it would take hours of talking to even scratch the surface of this entire experience.

For most of this trip, we have been treated like adults, and given the same work as the intern volunteers who are assisting us. Being on the Flow Team (a group of three youth and two adults that made decisions while we were on the trip) forced me to think about the consequences of my decisions and take some responsibility. But now, sitting in the airport and waiting for the plane, I feel like a child again, a chid who misses her family. And her bed.

Liz Powers

Just squeeze it

When we go to a work site during the day, we try to remember to bring along one of the handmade quilts donated by a member of Church of the Resurrection in hopes of being able to meet the owner and give it to them personally. Being from Church of the Resurrection, it was especially important to me to be able to give one to a family we had helped. My favorite quilt of the group was a bright purple one with some green patches that I thought was perfect for a little girl. At Miss Davis' house we were scrapping rust of the iron gates so they could be painted again. As Leslie and I were working away we saw two eyes pop out from behind a shade and disappear again, then she stuck her head out the door and said "hi". On a bathroom break we went inside and started talking to her.

Her name is Mia. She is nine years old and likes to dance and play baseball. She lives with her mother and her grandmother (Miss Davis). She lived Mississippi for a year and a half with her aunt after the hurricane. Her birthday was on Mardi Gras this year, and was very happy to hear that we had all celebrated her birthday even before we knew her. After talking to her we invited her to come outside and have a little dance party while we finished working. As Leslie and I walked out the front door Leslie said to me "That's it.... she's getting the quilt". After lunch we brought the beautiful purple quilt and gave it to her. She was so excited and couldn't stop saying how she just wanted to squeeze it. Nothing else,,,, just squeeze it. And a quilt as special as that has a lot of potential. Her grandmother was so gracious and I know that the quilt will help her remember us as much as we will remember Mia, the cute little girl, always wearing a smile, and reminding us that amongst a great amount of destruction there is always a ray of sunshine.

Claire McConnell

The Sunday Post, pt. 2

Today at church we met a woman who worked the VA hospital before Katrina. She told us about all the people she knew in the hurricane that had died, including an entire family who drowned because they didn't leave New Orleans. The VA hospital hasn't reopened yet and she is without work and still mourns the loss of her friends. I was very surprised to find she was so open with her losses. That was the first time a stranger has been that open with me. It was an eery and amazing feeling.

Sam Haycock

The Sunday Post

In the begining of the trip I started off with gutting houses. Starting off this way left a bleak impression on how I felt the trip was going to be. Every house seemed to be vacated and the city had such an absence of life. I had a negative view of the work we were all doing. Everyone's heard that every little bit counts, but it just seemed so overwhelming. There didn't seem to be enough 'little bits.' I imagined checking in for our jobs with hundreds of volunteers waiting to do the same. Unrealistic as it sounds, I was pretty disappointed. After two years, there is still so much that needs to be done. After two days of gutting, I had two days of painting/rebuilding. Definitely a more hopeful perspective. Even though it's extremely hard getting through the beginning, the homeowners of those houses prove that it really is possible to start a new life. Although it is possible, the constant reminder of the vacant houses show there is still so much more to do.
Finally, on Saturday we had our free day. This break was the real proof that everything will be okay. As we were walking down a festive street, Sharyn told me that when they went on the trip the previous year it was as if GodSquad were the only people on the streets. I wish I could compare this trip to another visit, but it's great that things are only getting better. Not only are structures being rebuilt, but the people are even stronger. This truly amazes me. I didn't think I'd feel any different during or after this trip, but this experience [so far] has already affected me. Even if I started off with a semi-pessimistic view, I know now that the work we do really does make a difference, and everyone can only be accountable for their own 'little bit.'


--Stephanie Keeshen
[[a.k.a. step on me quiche]]

Another day in NOLA

Groups went out with the Ubuntu kids to the New Orleans Zoo, planted a new garden, cut, painted and put up trim, installed a new floor, put up a new shower, pulled nails to prepare a house for the proverbial next step, spent time at the pool, and joined the neighborhood for the St. George's Cafe...enough of a day that more blogging will have to happen on the morrow...God Bless all...

Life becomes real

Although I had wanted to go on this trip from the very beginning, I found myself homesick and wanting to go home on the first day. And then I started working. By working, I mean sweating buckets of water and swinging a crow bar until you feel like your arm is gonna fall off. I've never worked so hard in my life or sweated so much. I spent my day today gutting "double shotgun" house. A "double shotgun" means that it's a two-family home in one and the rooms just go one into the other. In this house, we learned that one of the sides had belonged to a family with four kids ages 6,9,15 and 16. The other side had belonged to the mother-in-law. It hit close to home that some of these kids were so close in age to me. Also hitting close to home was the football wallpaper and the room with pink and purple walls. Tearing down their walls was harder than i thought it would be, both physically and mentally.

I feel like I'm in second grade, telling all of you what I have learned so far but here it is: life here is real. There's no sugar coating anything around here. People don't have it easy and it's not fair. Katrina or the flooding didn't care who you were, where you came from or what you did- you were just in it's way. I've never realized-to this extent- how lucky I am and how easy my life is. I've been on mission trips before and even Mississippi last year couldn't compare to this year. The houses we were in last year were messed up and we saw New Orleans homes from the outside; it's entirely different being in them and demolishing the walls that once sheltered a family; kept them safe. That's when it becomes real.
(much love to all you back home.)

Carli Jessup

One of many

On the first of August, I was sent out with a small group to finish someone's house in the less wealthy area of New Orleans. It was simply stunning to see how we could travel from the nice area of St. George's to a completely different scenario that was simply riddled and crippled with poverty and destitution. When we arrived, though this neighborhood was just as downtrodden, the homeowner's spirit was so uplifting that I could barely understand how she could be so happy, but it was so contagious that everybody seemed to work with just a little bit harder and things seemed just a little bit easier. As we finished our task of painting the security bars on her windows, we learned that she had donated her car to a homeless shelter before the storm leaving her without any mode of transport, and that her son had been sent to a mental institution in Massachusetts leaving her all alone.

It was very sad as the volunteers whom she had seen almost daily for several months were leaving for the last time, once again having loneliness as her only companion. It was especially frustrating to realize that this poor woman was only one of thousands of victims to have suffered grievously from the Katrina hurricane, and that too much of the desolation still remained and how it had probably changed New Orleans forever. I wonder how much could have been prevented if more people had reacted sooner, and unfortunately I'll never know. It is so sad that it is too easy to forsake a city, culture or even a country, but that you cannot ignore the crisis after you meet the people, and you realize just how terrible it really is.

Calvin Sherwood

Rolling with the kids

Today a lucky nine of us got the chance to help out as counselors with a local "youth sacred space and summer program" called Camp Ubuntu . The program is basically a day camp for kids from age 6-18 who's parents can't care for them during the summer. Their leader Helen informed us that most of the children's parents were either sick, deceased, or in jail. Helen told us that at the end of the summer session she'd be taking some of the younger girls to go visit their mothers in prison, many of which were only there for something as innocent as self-defense. We started the day off at Tulane's recreational sports facility with swimming which is the way the kids begin every day. The hope is that, because not many of them can swim and are terrified of water (because of Katrina), at the end of the session they will have a greater chance at surviving another flood. After swimming we played games in the facility: racket ball, basketball, pool, and ping pong. Then we all ate lunch together outside, just in time for a huge down pour.

I found it really interesting that as we passed out the lunches most kids would only eat the chips and cookies. At first I just figured they only wanted the junk food, but apparently when people died while staying in the Super Dome they would put the bodies in empty freezers to keep the from rotting. After that I totally understood where they were coming from! We then went to the Airline Skating Rink, which was so much. Unfortunately they didn't have inline skates so us Cali girls spent most of the time on our butts while these little kids zoomed around like they were born doing it. Even if you weren't on the rink there was still plenty of stuff to do, from arcade games and food to dance offs (which I won, by the way!) In all the day was so amazing. I had so much fun playing with the kids! It was amazing seeing the huge smiles on their faces after they've been through much, and it felt so good to know that our help, as easy and fun as it was, got them through yet another day.

Holly Williams

Shafts of Light

Today's work was possibly the most fulfilling I have ever done, leaving me with high hopes for the rest of the trip. My group worked at a house in uptown New Orleans that was nearly completely gutted. The man who owned it had lived there for since the 1940's. During the hurricane his neighborhood did not flood but suffered from severe wind damage that led to a roofless house and severe rain damage. He evacuated to Los Angeles where his sister lives and only recently returned. Since coming home he had single-handedly gutted all of his house except the kitchen area. Our job was to pull of the plaster and wood paneling that made up the walls and ceiling, to peel off the linoleum, and to remove all of the debris. It was an easy enough task but somewhat slow and repetitive.

When all was done you could look through his house from front door to back. His family was living in the house while it was being repaired. I could never imagine spending all my time in that condition. The walls let in shafts of light between the boarding but the house was still dim because of the lack of lighting, the winds caused drafts, the roof leaked during a thunderstorm during our day, and the inside of the house framework was covered in an inch of dust. It made me so thankful for where we are staying and all we have.

Samantha Haycock

Getting Started

In the past, GODsquad has always rested a day or so before getting into the tedious work. This year, we dove in, getting to work the day after we arrived, having traveled for twelve hours. We woke at around six o' clock, which in California is chronologically equivalent to three in the morning. You can imagine that we felt pretty pooped; it was only too fitting that a line from the morning worship said:

Sleeper awake! Rise from the dead...

That morning, as we left in the minivans, I anticipated a slogging day. The day found me dripping in sweat as the humidity assaulted my mood. When we arrived at the warehouse, we received assignments from the director. Not registering what I was doing, I slinked into the nearest departing group. We arrived at a house we needed to paint and met the owner, a kindly old woman who had lost everything in the storm. Her son had had to be evacuated from her house at gunpoint, because he was agoraphobic, and was currently hospitalized. She was lonely and needed help, and was thrilled to be getting it from the Episcopal diocese in the area. They had practically rebuilt her house, and when we arrived, she was taping plastic to her windows for painting. She welcomed us with open arms and made us feel great. That day, we heard stories of the people's struggles from a neighbor across the street, and it hit me again that I was truly glad to be doing this. Also, the company of Greg, Shanna, Sam F., Sam V., Kyle, and the college kids who were also helping made the day all the more enjoyable. I feel ready to drive forward on tomorrow's work.

Adrian Guerrero

Beating The Bulldozer: Workday #1 - Gutting Houses

I guess it was a lot different than what I expected. New Orleans is cleaner and brighter, certainly, than when I saw it last, nearly a year ago. But it has been two years since Katrina, and houses still stand with boarded up windows and the telltale spray-painted X's that show FEMA has come to call.

We were working in the Ninth Ward. It's home to some of the lowest-lying real estate in the entire city, and before the hurricane it was (not coincidentally, as Phil pointed out) home to some of New Orleans' poorest residents as well. It has been two years since Katrina, and there are still houses that stand while they literally rot away, with stagnant water in the pipes and termites in the walls. Our 'gutting crew', as we were called, had to wear masks the whole time we were in the house, and sweated up a storm while we wrenched off doorways with crowbars, literally punched through dry wall so damp that it reminded me of cardboard, and carried out junk by the wheelbarrowful.

In that junk, I saw glimpses of how the house had been, before the hurricane rendered virtually everything useless and moldy. The man who owned the house wasn't sure whether or not he could even have kept working on it if it wasn't for our help. You see, he had been struggling on his own with gutting the house, and was engaged in a battle with the government, which has begun knocking down houses if they can't find proof that a person is really trying to rebuild. The meeting in court to decide this is tomorrow, Wednesday.

He declared our coming to work on his house the best birthday present he could have asked for, revealing that today was his birthday just before we packed up and left. Now, covered in sweat and first-rate New Orleans mud, I can see that our work is truly blessed.

Liz Powers

Here at Last!

After one flight to Atlanta (with at least a half hour of sleep by some), questionable breakfast in Terminal B of the Hartsfield airport, another flight, this time to New Orleans, we have arrived. We have arrived to a heat index of 100 degrees (thank God for air conditioning), and very hospitable hosts at St. George's, New Orleans on St. Charles Avenue.

We're just heading into program (a meditation), nap time (hopefully separate from the meditation), time at the pool at Tulane University, and a night at a New Orleans Zephyrs baseball game. Tomorrow we begin our work with the Episcopal Diocese of Louisiana's Recovery efforts. More to come as we continue our mission in New Orleans...

BINGO!

Join us for a night of bingo to help raise funds to support our mission trip.

Play BINGO on Saturday June 23 from 6-8PM at Episcopal Church of the Resurrection 399 Gregory Ln. Pleasant Hill.

Bring your friends!

St. Dorothy's Rest Work Weekend

click to see MORE PICTURES!

We spent a great weekend at St. Dorothy's Rest putting our hands to good work. We stacked many cords of wood, cleared the space for and installed an organic garden and performed routine maintenance on the grounds around the buildings.

With our combined efforts we provided almost 200 hours of labor to prepare the facility for summer camp season and beyond.

New firendships were formed, silly games were played, hard work was completed. We thank St. Dorothy's for making the space for us and accepting our offer to help.

Weekend Mini-Mission Trip April 27-29

GODSquad invites all high school youth of each parish to join us for a weekend at St. Dorothy's Rest, a Camp and Retreat center of the Diocese of California. It is located in Camp Meeker of Sonoma County. St. Dorothy's Rest serves over 300 youth a year through its summer camp programs with a focus on children with serious health issues.

On April 27 through April 29, our group will be servicing the grounds of the center as well as spening time in its beautiful facilities. The cost for this weekend trip is $25 a person. The sign up deadline is April 11 with limited space. Contact your youth minister ASAP to register & coordinate transportation.

40 Ideas for Lent

Click here for 40 Ideas for Lent

An idea a day to get you through the season.

March 17 Mission

The crew after a good day's work. Lots of painting!

On Saturday March 17 our service will be needed at The Bay Area Seafarer's Service center in Oakland

The International Maritime Center is a "home away from home" for seafarers from distant lands, as well as a community center for our local bay area shipping and long shore community. In addition to aiding seafarers, the International Maritime Center works as a good citizen to build community and provide services for waterfront workers, longshoremen, and truckers regardless of religion, race or nationality.

Please wear your painting clothes! Bring a bag lunch, a bottle of water and $5-$10 participation fee. Talk to your youth minster for details on travel.

See you on St. Patrick's Day!

Summer Mission Trip

Registration for the 2007 God Squad mission trip to New Orleans is officially open. We ask all interested youth (entering sophomore high school through freshman college) to complete and return the registration form, along with a $100 deposit by March 4th.

Some trip details:

The trip is scheduled around July 29th through August 10th. Actual dates will be determined by flight cost and availability
$100 reserves a spot; total cost will depend on fund raising and will likely be about $200
Participation in upcoming God Squad events, including fund raising and pre-formation is essential - calendar to be distributed soon

Contact your youth minister for forms & more information!

Mission Cancelled

The GodSquad's participation in the Diocessan Urban Plunge mission for Saturday 1/13 has been cancelled. In lieu of a daytime project you are invited to help support the fundraising efforts for this summer's mission trip.

Youth are invited to help set up & serve at the Youth Homes Crab Feed this Saturday evening, from 6P-9:30P or 10P, at the Shadelands Arts and Crafts Center (http://www.arts-ed.org/rentalinfo.html) Wear God Squad t-shirts, and email Phil Brochard to confirm attendance and get more information: pbrochard@stpaulswc.org

We apologize for the short notice on the cancellation of this mission.

See you in March for the painting of Bay Area Seafarers Service buildings. Watch the blog for more information

Reflecting on December's Service

12 teens & 6 adults spent the day at St. Timothy's, Danville to put our hands to work and open our hearts to the issues of poverty & struggle in the world. Below is a report on the day's activities by Sam H. We hope to see you at the Urban Plunge!

GODSquad this month focused on the United nations Millennium Development Goals. We Teamed up with our old friends at the Monument Crisis Center (we've worked there several times in the past) the GODSquad set itself to work. For the first hour or so we sorted toiletries, emptying bags full of various hotel's complimentary goods into heaping piles of hygienic products. Then we lined up and circled the table. Our task now was to fill Ziploc baggies; 2 soaps, 1 shower gel, 2 shampoos, 1 conditioner, 2 lotions, 1 toothbrush, 1 mouthwash, 1 toothpaste, and floss as long as our stash held out. By the time we ran out of the most essential parts of the pack we had covered the top of the St. Timothy Youth Center's pool table. These kits would be distributed by the Crisis Center to many needy and homeless individuals.

Our next project was "Love Soup". By layering dry good ingredients into jars we made 96 jars of healthy just add water soup. Our assembly line was as follows: bouillon, onion, noodles, split peas, lentils, and pasta, with a few in between that I probably forgot. Add a lid, tie on the directions for preperation, and some snazzy fabric for decoration. Each jar had the potential to feed 8 people. That means the GODSquad had just prepared meals for 768 people.

Then we pulled out our lunches. What a comparison, half of our group had ordered sandwhiches from Quizno's and the rest brown bagged it. After just finishing fixing up dry soup our meal looked like a feast.

We watched the Episcopal One Campaign's video on the Millenium Development Goals and were left speechless. We watched Sarah McLachlan's video World On Fire, a music video thats budget was sent to third world development instead of pruduction. Again we were left speechless. To close our day we held Eucharist. During the service a bell was rung every three seconds reminding us that a child dies every three seconds from malnutrition or AIDS.

Amen.