LAST WEEK OF JANUARY 2014: ICE STORM COMING

Like much of the rest of the country, it has been cold here in New Orleans.  Those working at the Veteran’s facility and at Lantern Light noticed how the homeless suffer and cope with the severe weather.  Travis’ Veteran’s facility is indoors, warm, has comfortable seating and TV; it is a real refuge.  The laundry and showers were heavily used.  Erika’s location is more open to the elements, does not have a large warm gathering space, but has a loyal group who keep coming back.  At Lauren’s school most of the children want to be outside for recreation and play time despite rain or cold.  Br. Charles has a warm enough office, but folks are often in and out so the cold is always rushing in.  An unusual ice storm is now predicted for Tuesday and Wednesday--much of the city is now shutting down.  This is an extraordinary occurrence for New Orleanians. 

Srs, Carolyn Brockland, OSU, Pauline O'Reilly, CHF, Sr. Nancy Hale, CHF, Sr, Regina Petersen, MSC and Sr. Nancy Vance, SND

On a mild Saturday, January 25^th the “Newcomers Group” gathered in the Pauline Room for prayer, reflection and conversation.  Ursuline Sisters, a Cabrini, Sisters of Notre Dame [SND- Toledo], Sisters of Holy Faith, Sisters of Charity, Daughters of Charity and a Carmelite Sister were joined by the Brothers.  Srs. Nancy Hale and Pauline O’Reilly, CHF, coordinated the day, choosing a beautiful reflection on when the work of Christmas begins, adapted from a poem by Dr. Howard Thurman.  

 

Br. Charles with Sr. Beth Fitzpatrick, O Carm our new Vicar for Religious

Sr. Beth Fitzpatrick, O Carm, the newly appointed Executive Director of the Department of Religious for the Archdiocese, joined us.   Sr. Mary Ann Holmes, OSU, the newly appointed Prioress of the Ursuline Community also attended.  She knows Br. Greg McNally from a renewal program they both participated in and could quote snatches of a poem he used to recite.  Her commentary was very interesting.

 

Sr. Nancy Hale attends upon our Erika's words of wisdom to Sr. Kerstin Deubel, SND, Sr. Beth and Sr. Renee Rose, DC

After our prayer and reflection, Travis and Erika were good enough to take time from their schedules to help host the group for lunch.  It is always a pot-luck; everyone brings something—we supplied a tray of sandwiches and brownies, hot coffee and tea.  Br. Bob took some pictures so you’ll get to see Erika, our usual photographer.

Cabrini Sr. Regina laughs as John tells Sr. Mary Ann Holmes, OSU about water rights to a well in West Park, NY--but that is another story.  "We wuz robbed."

  

Sunday was quiet; the volunteers were away and it was a pleasant sunny day.  John is undergoing some tests associated with Parkinson’s and had an MRI scheduled for Tuesday.  [This was cancelled on Monday until February 7 due to ice storms threatened for January 27 and 28.]  It’s not much fun wondering why changes are taking place, and challenging when the doctor orders up a bunch of tests!  At the suggestion of a friend he met for lunch on Friday, he tried some ‘self care’ on Sunday.

In the late afternoon he went to the Trinity Artist Series at Trinity Episcopal Church on Jackson Avenue.  The featured soloist was ill, substitutions were made but the program of Baroque and modern pieces for trumpet, organ and flute went ahead.  Providentially, a piece was on the program that John had only heard on radio and in recordings but loved.  The fourth selection was Alan Hovhaness’ [1911-2000] Prayer of St. Gregory, Op. 62b.  As performed by Albinas Prizgintas, organist and a youthful master of the trumpet , David Perkins, it was the high point of an extraordinary musical experience.  To hear it live, in an acoustically fine space, played with such emotion and skill was a real experience of how music can be an evocation of grace.  Later, to have time to savor the experience, John walked home.  Then, he  added another dimension to a delightful moment and stopped by Ignatius, a local eating place that we no longer visit as community due to diet concerns for some and sound levels for others!  The crawfish etouffee was as good as ever and the bread pudding delicious.  The subsequent walk home along Magazine Street, on a relatively mild evening, was another moment to reflect on the extraordinary moments of grace we so often rush through that deserve time and reflection for the greater and eternal Beauty they reflect.

So when the MRI happens, it happens.  C’est la vie.   

TRANSITIONS:

Br. John and Fr. MichaelJospeh Nguyen behind Msgr Engelbrecht and Fr. Doug Brougher

 

Saturday, January 25^th was the first anniversary of the death of Fr. MichaelJoseph Vinh Ngoc Nguyen at the age of 56.  His energy, Faith life, good humor, and acceptance and lively support of the Brothers Community, personally and practically, were instrumental in our successful establishment of the Volunteer Community.  He also virtually bought us a van through donations and persuasion! 

Sister Mary Daniel, OP, a Dominican Sister of Peace and a native New Orleanian, will be leaving at the end of January for Columbus, Ohio.  Seven years ago Sr. Mary Daniel and her Dominican Sisters housed us at their Formation Center on Broadway in Uptown from August to February as we waited for renovations to 4219 Constance where we now live.  Sr. Mary Daniel, like John has Parkinson’s and has been instrumental in advancing the agenda for research into causes and cures; she got John involved in his first PD support group and has been a friend to the community as well.

FOR REFLECTION:

When the song of the angels is stilled,
When the star in the sky is gone,
When the kings and princes are home,
When the shepherds are back with their flock,
Then the work of Christmas begins:

To find the lost,
To heal the broken in spirit,
To feed the hungry,
To release the oppressed,
To rebuild the nations,
To bring peace among all peoples,
To make a little music in the heart.

And to radiate the Light of Christ,

Every day, in every way, in all that we do

And in all that we say.

Then the work of Christmas begins.

                                [Adapted from a poem by Howard Thurman]