week 6, post 2

Blog entry week 6

Nietzsche was right: religion is a good place for passive and timid people to hide from life. And Christianity is a religion. But Nietzsche was only half right: the Way of the Cross, discipleship to Jesus, is not a religion. Discipleship can turn the wounded, frightened, defeated people of the world into courageous, won’t back down or be stopped world changers. Discipleship is where I take risks, live on the edge, get beyond self-will run riot. Discipleship is where I resist the Wal-Martization of my soul. See, the Gospel is not a dogma. And it is not an ideology. The Gospel makes timid people brave, and makes wild, reckless people settle down and have some respect for limits. Where the Gospel leads me is not where the Gospel takes my friend Scott, or Susan, or Marilyn, or James. If the Gospel makes us all more loving, it will nonetheless do that in N different directions. That is why I am ultimately Baptist – I have to pay attention to where the Master is leading ME. The Gospel is where I find the wherewithal to be here and do this.

I post, with minimum comment, two images from my recent trip to Grand Isle. For a sense of scale, imagine a pickup truck parked comfortably halfway back under the barge’s nose. It’s that big. Contemplate both and let your Self respond.

Peace, Warren

week 6, post 1

A CHURCHLESS CHRISTIAN?
Those of us who routinely participate in a faith community often hear those who don't proclaim that they can be believers just fine without all the time and trouble of a "church". Fine for them. But it's not true for me. I went home for Christmas. As I attended Christmas eve and Christmas day services, I was approached by many who are aware of where I am and what I'm doing. Their interest and encouragement meant a great deal to me. I'm not here alone, or just for me. I'm here on their behalf -- doing what they can't. I am indeed "surrounded by a great cloud of saints/witnesses." Following the Way of the Cross is not just believing this or that -- it's a life of risk, sacrifice, controversy, endurance. One church member, an old woman with a bright, strong spirit and a failing body came up to me and said, "I'm so proud of you. I know you're doing a good thing." She will never know how much that means to me -- for the times when my body is strong and my spirit failing. I can't let her down. Others may speak for themselves, but a solitary Christianity would leave me drifting back into safety, passivity, conventionality, mediocrity -- just "believing."

I traveled today down Bayou Lafourche to Grand Isle. The community was terribly battered by both hurricanes (I will post pictures soon). I met with a pastor there and we continued to design the ministry in that area -- not only counseling, but teaching as well. We intend to involve all three churches on the island -- Roman Catholic, Methodist and Southern Baptist. In front of the restaurant at noon, I met and talked with the husband of a woman I had met on my first visit the 2nd week of December. At that time, she had worked 16+ hours each day without a day off since Aug 27. I had asked her what she needed most. She replied that she and her husband needed to get away; if they were there, they would keep working. I reported this to the pastor here at Grace Lutheran. She called this evening. I connected her to the pastor, and a check will soon be on the way to give them respite. I am so pleased to be an instrument of peace and healing. The true meaning of priesthood is to stand between those in need and the love which meets that need, making sure the connections happen. Success.

Down at Grand Isle, I took a little time to walk the beach. I asked myself why I hadn't brought a bag, so I could pick up all the shells and other interesting artifacts and bring them home. Then it occurred to me; that's precisely why I hadn't brought a bag -- because I'd pick it all up and bring it home!!

One final note: A Cajun woman gave me this advice: if biting insects are bothering your neck and face, put a cling free sheet (the more perfume the better) under your hat (or let it drape down as a neck cape). It works.

Peace, Warren.

Week 5, post 2

Many people want to know exactly where I am... (well, I do too, existentially, but that's another subject). Geographically -- get out a map of Louisiana. Find New Orleans -- the south shore of Lake Ponchartarin. Then find Houma -- about 55 miles or so Southwest of NO. Then travel Hwy 55 SE of Houma, toward Montegut. Take rte 665 to the left just north of Montegut and follow the road south and east until it seems to disappear. That's where I live. The area is called "Pointe aux Chenes" ("Point of the trees (live oaks)). On the political map, the area appears to be solid ground. Look at it on a satellite photo if you wish, and you'll notice my road is a long, thin strip of land, along a bayou, surrounded by water. My place of residence is on one side of a bayou, about 8" above sea level. Just south of my place is a road angling to the right, then left, to an area called "Isle Jean Charles." -- truly the end of the road, a Houma Indian (predominately) community.
Peace, Warren.

week 5, post 1

One of the things I was (happily) unprepared for as I came to the bayou was the remarkable, haunting beauty of this area. The sights of the sun and moon rising and setting over the marsh is incredible. The snow white wading birds, the brilliant night-time stars (the air is very clean), the quiet of the night (except for the grunts, screams, growls and other sounds of the marsh animals) are all beautiful. I am reminded of the Navajo prayer I carry in my wallet:
"Now Talking God,
with your feet I walk.
I walk with your limbs,
I carry forth your body.

For me your mind thinks,
Your voice speaks for me.

Beauty is before me,
And beauty behind me.
Above and below me
hovers the beautiful.

I am surrounded by it,
I am immersed in it.

In my youth I am aware of it,
And in old age
I shall walk quietly
the beautiful trail."

I have been privileged to experience the awesome beauty of the Canadian Rockies, the New Mexico desert, Northern Saskatchewan and other wondrous places. This lonely place, the bayou, has become indeed another place of fulfillment of this prayer for me.

There is no longer any surprise or wonder for me as to why the residents here are so fiercely loyal to this place, their home for over 200 years. It is beautiful.

week 4, post 1

I enter my "client's" home at 9:00 am and am greeted by the faint whiff of sandalwood incense -- evidence of daily devotional reading, scripture study and prayers. The modest house is immaculately clean and comfortable. So much for stereotypes about "the poor." Some psychotherapy is about recovery from injuries sustained in life. But not in this case. Our agenda is about 85% growth, empowerment, and spiritual direction -- reaching toward understanding and possibilities. In spite of a life of cultural isolation, my "client" is bright, curious, perceptive, articulate.

He describes his extended family to me and my head swims with the complexity of the kinships. After 200+ years of an isolated life, everyone is related, and keeps track of these relationships. I've lived in neighborhoods where neighbors across the street/hallway didn't know each other after 10 years!!

This extended family thrived in the bayou for 200 years. Agriculture, fishing, hunting and a strong faith and community sustained these people. Now agriculture is gone. Forests of cypress and pecans have disappeared. Grazing pastures and room to keep hogs or poultry have disappeared. What was once pasture has become salt marsh. What was once salt marsh is now open water, a few feet from back doors.

Modern people often fail to distinguish simplicity from poverty. My client understands, without a hint of nostalgia, self pity or bitterness, that simplicity is no longer an option. Coastal erosion, if nothing else, has made it so. Modernity or poverty is the only choice left. Survival necessitates cultivating a skill he can sell to people.

As is always the case in good counseling, there is a rich mutuality in the relationship. While I offer myself to be useful to the client, he is also my teacher. I am blessed.
-----
In order to obtain reimbursement for flood damage, FEMA requires applicants to produce proof of ownership, or rent receipts, plus utility bill receipts. This is understandable -- in order to avoid fraud. But here is where middle class logic meets the reality of life in the bayou. Here, several family units may reside on one piece of property; there is only one title, one utility bill, for several families. And that documentation may well have disappeared under flood waters, if the family ever kept track of it at all! It is a catch 22! Middle class people (bourgeois) routinely fail to grasp how incredibly complicated it is (read stressful), and the enormous volume of paperwork involved in being poor!

----
Now it's time to go work out at the Y, treat myself to a hot shower, and head back down the bayou. Peace, Warren.

week 3, post 2

How can I/we help?
Grace Lutheran Church in Houma is a beehive of activity this morning. A full trailer truck load of goods has arrived, is being offloaded by church members, then immediately packaged for distribution to families made needy by the hurricanes. The fellowship hall is full of peanut butter, blankets, bras, beans, peanut butter, pull toys, socks, peanut butter, sweatshirts, stuffed toys, cookies, peanut butter and so much more. These items have been collected and distributed by ORPHAN GRAIN TRAIN -- DISASTER RESPONSE DIVISION -- OF NORFOLK, NEBRASKA. From all I can assess, this organization is as efficient as any and would be a good steward of part of your didaster related charitable giving, now and in the future. While through me they offer listening ears to victims and others, they are also hard at work to feed, clothe and shelter as well. It is indeed very gratifying for me to witness this little congregation hard at work fulfilling the gospel in all its dimensions, not just a part of it. "Well done, good and faithful servants."

Week 3, post 1

I have my Christmas lights up! I bought a string of beautiful red crawfish lights at the Cajun store at the mall. They now hang over my door on the camper. I'll post a picture if I can ever figure out how!

As I began creating this blog in my head, I began to realize that I cannot and will not ever share any details of the pastoral care and counseling work I've begun to do. Anyone in the world can read this, including relatives and neighbors of people I'm helping. Confidentiality cannot and will not ever be compromised.

So how do I let you know the real heart of what I'm doing? I can be very free with my personal adventures and play, but that's not what I'm here for, and not likely what you're most interested in as a reader. I will do my very best to walk that tightrope, and trust that you will offer me feedback as we go...

My pastoral care and counseling work has indeed begun in earnest, and I am gratified. Today I was privileged to make a grief call on a family and was graciously received. I believe that the contact was meaningful and useful. I want to tell so much more about this dear family, their strengths and inner beauty, but I cannot. Sigh.

One prophetic note: the man commented with some passion that he has given "so many interviews in this house" over the past 20 years regarding costal erosion that he is just sick of them. Study after study has been done, without action, that he is thoroughly fed up with it all. Will action ever be taken, or will the patient be studied to death? Talk is not always cheap, but in this case, the bayou people are indeed weary of "studies," and time is running out.

I am personally aware of how inefficient this work is that I'm presently doing. It is indeed way more efficient to operate in a clinic on a tight schedule, like I did for 19 years. But it is not always more life-giving. Jesus did not himself establish a "Center for Spiritual Growth and Enlightenment" a block away from the Temple. He wandered, itinerant, homeless, and met the people on their turf and their terms. Bureaucracies are created out of a desire for efficiency -- and they usually are. But they can also be incredibly stifling and just plain destructive. Flood victims here experience FEMA as a third disaster, just short of Katrina and Rita in its devastation. The very word "FEMA" provokes all manner of intense emotion on the part of area residents, and the foul taste of the acronym in their mouths is not likely ever to recover to the point of mere emotional neutrality. FEMA may have to be carried out to the town dump along with all the moldy mattresses and other flood refuse.

Please pray for me as I work as hard as I can to make the best possible use of the resources of time and money with which I have been entrusted.

Peace, Warren.

Week 2, post 1

After 1 week, I realize how old and set in my ways I am. I'm doing ok without a closet and a shower and all those amenities. I can rough it. But what I was used to for all those years was the efficiency of an office and a set calendar. One client after another was efficient and rewarding. Now I'm in a strange place, and getting set up and going is taking longer than I expected. I'm having to adjust. But I'm still (mostly) enjoying the challenge.

I have a new sidekick -- a young Lutheran DCE intern named Aaron. We went down the bayou together this afternoon and surveyed the area. We stopped at a home, where a man was outdoors. When I exited the car we recognized each other immediately -- he had been one of the Rita evacuees at South Terrebonne High School. He was happily shocked that I had come back, and welcomed me. He is a community leader and I believe will help me connect with the people needing to see me. It may have little to do with the hurricane proper. The issues may just be "life."

After our meeting, Aaron and I returned to my host's, where we proceeded to pull trash out of the bayou. Strong and energetic, Aaron was a big help. We doused ourselves liberally with muck, but got some rewarding physical work done.

Aaron will likely be with me for 2 weeks -- then off to europe for him

These Cajuns/bayou people (at leastthe men) appear to have very clear and durable values. The heirarchy appears to go something like this:
1 -- hunting
2-- fishing
3--Their children (or other family members)
4--work

It doesn't necesarily lead to the acquisition of a lot of material goods, but there's a lot of joy in it. There's also a very close connection to nature. My host told me, "Once you've been down here, you'll always come back." I can feel it. It grows on me.

Do you want to help hurricane victims? One way to start is in your own home -- educate yourself. Read: 1) People of the Bayou or 2) Bayou Farewell. You'll find either book very enlightening.

Peace, Warren.

Week 1, post 1

Well, I'm back in southern Louisiana. My good friend John, with Richard, helped me tow the popup camper and my little boat to Houma, La. We made the trip in one long day, Tuesday 11./29, and had a reunion with Audrey's Little Cajun Mansion B&B in Houma. On Wednesday, we took the boat to a service place where Joe, the Cajun mechanic, started work on it. As Joe and I were discussing possible locations for my camper, a couple of duck hunters arrived with their boat. A local camping place was asking $250/month just for a place to park the boat. One of the hunters, let's call him Andrew, took offense at the outrageous price and offered me to park my trailer on his property for nuthin'. John, Richard and I set off down the bayou to "Pointe au Chien" (route 665) -- I think it's actually Pointe aux Chenes (Point of the Live Oak Trees?) to check out Andrew's place. We found it, I found it suitable, and on Wednesday, I towed the trailer to its new home. Andrew claims to not be religious at all, but I find him to be a man of compassion and generosity. He embodies the Cajun ethic of hospitality and sharing. He sees no point to counseling, but he also quickly opened up to me, and I have every hope we will become friends. Andrew also had advice for me on how to meet the people, and who might need some help. Little miracles -- I have a home, a boat and some friends/advocates. I spent my first night in the trailer last night. I was comfortable and dry, but a little lonely, which is ok. My work has already begun.

Grace is everywhere, and if you have interest in intercessory prayer, please lift up John and Richard for their help with transport, Andrew and his friend Charles who have befriended me, and Joe the mechanic who gave excellent service at a good price. All deserve my thanks and God's blessings.

Peace, Warren.