Faith

Written August 3, 2011

New Orleans isn't exactly known as a "pious" city. Mardi Gras? Bourbon Street? These don't evoke images of choir boys and Bibles. So I've been surprised by the strong faith I've seen every day since we arrived. In part, it has come from the people on this trip, their beliefs, their testimonies. But it also radiates from the people we've met and whose homes we've been repairing.

Our homeowner came to our site for the first time this morning, and although she could only stay for a few minutes, her gratitude was humbling. She must have thanked us ten times in half as many minutes. And I can't even count the number of times she said "God bless you," not as a half-hearted or offhand remark but as a genuine blessing. It has been six years since she lost her house. Six years. How easy would it have been for her to become bitter or angry or resentful toward God and toward humanity in that time? Instead, she thanked us for working on her house (for a whole four days) and said she'd pray for us. SHE would pray for US. Doesn't that sound backward?

Saying that Katrina and Rita were forces of good in this city would be going too far. It's amazing, though, to see the strength that those disasters have given the people of New Orleans. They watched the water sweep away all the physical items they held near and dear... yet they survived. Without Facebook or cell phones or even houses to live in. Their churches fed them, body and soul. Their faith sustained them as they ran out of tangible sustenance. And as they return and rebuild, they don't forget who brought them through.

Being here and seeing that faith is inspiring. It's so easy to allow ourselves to get bogged down in earthly things- the shower line is too long, we ran out of fruit for lunches, my shoulders are sunburned. It's easy to call ourselves religious but leave our Bibles in our suitcases and say we're too tired to read them and we'll get them tomorrow. It's easy to worry about traditions and denominations and push others aside because they have different beliefs about Communion or Mary or the "faith vs. works idea."

At dinner the first night, the leader asked how many people actually attended a Baptist Church. Maybe a third of the room raised their hands. Since then, I've talked to Methodists and Evangelicals and Lutherans and so many others, and during a conversation earlier today, it hit me. This is what it is all about. Different people, different backgrounds, different styles of worship. We all have different beliefs that vary in certain areas, but the important part is that we agree where it counts. We believe in the same God, the same God who is present here in New Orleans, and we are here letting our faith lead us to works.

We had a worship service tonight, and I watched all these people from all these religions set aside their focus on traditional services and embrace new ideas that still focused on the basic, shared belief. It was nothing like a service in my Catholic church- no crucifix, no Liturgy, no appointed lector or Eucharistic Minister. Yet there was music. There was prayer. There were stories shared, not by a priest but by our peers. And above all, there was faith.

New Orleans isn't known for her piety. But her people are shouldering their crosses, their massive and heavy crosses called Fear and Monetary Problems and Racial Tensions and Physical Damages, and they are moving on. During our week in New Orleans, we have begun to learn to pick up our crosses and move on as well, focusing on the one thing that will continue to sustain us.