Musings on Mississippi

Sitting between ornate columns, wide Palladian windows, and under a grand chandelier, I worshipped in Christ Church, Cambridge, Massachusetts on Pentecost Sunday, 2006. This historic church, across the street from Harvard, has seen General George Washington as worshiper, collegian Theodore Roosevelt as Sunday School teacher, and Martin Luther King, Jr. as a speaker. That Pentecost Sunday I meditated on the oft repeated final prayer of the Eucharist: “And now, Father, send us out to do the work you have given us to do, to love and serve you as faithful witnesses of Christ our Lord." I considered the multiple ways God has answered that supplication for the educators, leaders, and people of contribution, who have prayed a similar petition in that sanctuary. With that in mind, I prayed the familiar words with new fervency. In the year since, the work I have been given to do has included completing my 30th year as an educator, the challenges of caring for the health needs of an aging parent, a course covering Steinbeck, and two service trips to the Gulf Coast.

Pentecost Sunday, 2007 I was at another Christ Church. Built on the foundation of the original building, the small sanctuary is an aluminum Quonset hut with few windows. Recent history was evident in the surroundings, for Hurricane Katrina sent a storm tide 30 feet deep over a building sitting in clear view of the Gulf of Mexico. There is much work to do here. Pentecost was the first time the original church had an empowered mission or purpose, thus it was a fitting weekend to serve. This was an occasion to celebrate the Spirit that Jesus sent, and use the gifts that this Spirit has given us in order to build up each other, the church, and society. It was a time to be led by a unifying Spirit to cross artificial boundaries of race and culture.

The service team I joined journeyed to Bay St. Louis, Mississippi for a time of rebuilding. In “The Bay”, there remains extensive rebuilding to be done. The team had four days of vigor, excitement, energy, movement, and fresh commitment. We opened hands which initially were eager, yet found them tired at day’s end. Our purpose was to fill our hands with good things. We were assembled together to practically share love. As children of God we endeavored to renew the face of neighborhoods. Our team saw that a community was tidied by the construction of a new tool shed. Exposed wood sides of other sheds were protected by paint. Foundation was prepared for another dwelling. Trees were staked so that a park could flourish with added greenery. Kitchen cabinets were hung in a home needing total interior restoration. Electrical wiring was improved which will shed light in a yard where thieves steal at night. In faith, these acts of love and goodness leave peace with residents.

We met people whose hearts have been filled with sorrow. Their experience has been full of suffering, yet they show that their suffering has produced endurance. The stories they share and the thanks they give reveal that their endurance has produced character. Two of those I encountered have suffered multiple afflictions. Experiencing only Katrina would have been enough to bear, yet life has additional burdens.

Annette is a middle aged lady who owns a ranch home about two miles from the shore. Somehow an iron mast from a fishing boat found its way into her back yard to become stuck in the soil. It must weigh 200 pounds. That portion of her yard was overgrown and infested with weeds. An otherwise neat yard had an unkempt corner. Annette desired for the corner to be cleaned, yet she grinned while insisting on keeping the mast to rename it USS Katrina. She began to tell her story. We listened to stories of neighbors still having nightmares and children in fear of a simple rainstorm. Annette suffers from Lupus. Then she began to tell of her son by showing his photographs on her cell phone. Both pictures show a young man attached to a respirator. He has since died. One woman has suffered multiple afflictions. Yet after inspecting her clean yard, we left her smiling. Hopefully she received a small gift of healing. She gave us joyous nicknames, expressed appreciation, photographed us, and gave genuine hugs. Annette quickly departed saying she did not want to cry.

Kenneth is also middle aged; a tall burly man living in a one room shack on a Mississippi dirt road. He does not even have a FEMA trailer. The day I spent on his property made me feel as if I were with the Joad family in The Grapes of Wrath. John Steinbeck wrote: “How can we live without our lives? How will we know it’s us without our past?” Kenneth’s trailer – his past – had been blown away not by a dust storm, but waves. Former days of good health appear to also be in his past. Yet he is a man who lives, without being wiped out or licked. Perhaps Kenneth is Steinbeck’s “lonesome animal.” He is a quiet man who speaks infrequently. Suffering with throat cancer, it is an effort for Kenneth to talk, plus an effort for the listener to comprehend him. Yet his words were only positive ones, even when showing us pictures of Katrina’s damage. Next to his dilapidated home rises the beginning of a small new house, high on stilts. Our tasks included cutting plastic to cover the particle board, wrapping the home in the plastic, installing windows, and holding the ladder. By the end of that day progress was evident with the wrapping and new windows very visible. Hopefully this was the work of a small miracle on that dusty road. Upon our departure the burly man photographed us and told us he loved us. Those words were most easy for us to comprehend. I felt the Pentecost fire that warms, energizes and excites. We quickly departed not wanting to cry.

This was the work we were given to do on a long weekend. Most of our projects were done midstream. Often we picked up where an earlier mission team had stopped. After our brief time ran out, we left unfinished projects for another set of volunteers. It is my hope that the Lord will use the labors of many to give strength to the people of Bay St. Louis. May He give the blessing of peace to those who have suffered much and have fear and troubled hearts.