Third Sunday in Lent

February 24, 2008

St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church

The Rev. Hannah Anderson

"Meeting Jesus in Biloxi"

Just over a week ago, thirteen of us from St. Stephen’s went on a mission trip to Biloxi, Mississippi.  We went with the intention of helping in the rebuilding efforts after Hurricane Katrina; we returned as people whose hearts and souls were broken open and reconfigured.  In the ruins of Biloxi, we met the risen Lord through people whose faith and trust have been tried and tested through the greatest of losses.  We heard Jesus say to us, ‘I am the One who will be with you always—the Messiah, the Christ’ and, as with the Samaritan woman, we are back in our neighborhoods ready to spread this Good News.    ‘Come and meet the One who knows you through and through; the God whose love and mercy are not limited to those in a church building or a particular denomination.  Things happen when you meet Him!’

New converts to the faith like the Samaritan woman can be frightening or off putting because they deliver their message with such fervor.  It is not our intention to overwhelm you or try to convince you that unless you have such an experience as we did that you somehow do not measure up.  The truth is, we are just plain excited about what happened during this week away.  Friendships were formed, houses were worked on, story upon story was told, lives were changed.  While we are weary from a very long trip home yesterday that included a cancelled flight into New York and having to drive, instead, from Washington’s Dulles Airport to La Guardia to get our luggage and personal cars, we are overflowing with Good News.

This morning I want to offer you four images to begin the storytelling.  First, Camp Biloxi.  Sponsored by the Lutheran Disaster Response Team, Camp Biloxi was set up shortly after Hurricane Katrina hit the Gulf coast, now two and a half years ago.  There were rows of metal rooms lined up, which Ethan Flynn referred to as our sleeping boxes.  Five women in one, eight men in another:  bunk beds in close quarters with a variety of sleeping, waking and snoring patterns to which we all adjusted during the week.  Another long metal trailer contained the rest rooms; another the showers.  There was a giant tent set up as our dining room/mess hall and a small tent as the chapel.  A make-shift kitchen was housed off the mess hall.  It was there that Jan and Joseph, our cooks for the week, produced amazing volumes of food with more carbohydrates and sugar than we had ever seen in our lives.  At the entry of the camp was a tool shed where giant metal trailers held equipment, materials and tools for our work on houses.  Each morning our team stopped to pick up or drop off equipment.  Dan Robillard, as our work crew leader, organized us with amazing skill. 

There were ninety of us at Camp Biloxi during the week we were there.  We met people from Iowa, Minnesota and Indiana—people from many faiths and walks of life.  A number of retired couples came in campers to volunteer a month of their time.  It was in this environment that we lived and moved and had our being each day.  Our three teenagers, Nick Russo, Shalyse Bickford and Nate White were put on breakfast and dinner duties.  They were up at 4 am, working side by side with Jan and Joseph and accompanied by Maureen Russo (bless her heart!).  The rest of us rolled in at 6 am for breakfast and then went out on the work site for the day.  We packed peanut butter or ham sandwiches for lunch, grabbed lots of water bottles (sorry, Living Green:  no other options and also no recycling down there yet…the landfill that was to have served for twenty-five years is already full), and went to our house.

Our house, on Magnolia Street, located on the poor side of the railroad tracks, is owned by Anthony Spears who relocated to Baton Rouge after Katrina.  He is waiting to move back home.  The original home was destroyed in the storm.  We nicknamed it the ½” house because the framing was off by about ½” all the way around.  I didn’t know what that meant in construction terms, but I learned in short order that it meant a whole lot more measuring and cutting than was normal.  We insulated the home, put up sheet rocking through most of the first floor, and dug in the red clay of the front yard to level it for a small driveway—all while carefully avoiding the mounds of fire ants.  The port-a-potty on the site had been stolen so Camp Biloxi struck a deal with the beer distributor across the street for our use of their rest room.  Kudos to Doug Demary, Helene and Dan Robillard, Dean Bickford, William Eigen, Linda Yon, Mike Laurin and Ethan Flynn for their incredible work and sense of humor.  Let it be noted that William Eigen worked the entire week while wearing mardi gras beads.  We have proof!  Another team came to work alongside us part way through the week—a group of Lutherans from Iowa with whom we formed a bond.  The Director of Camp Biloxi said that we had been the two best teams the Camp has ever had.

We did more than build.  We also worshipped with our fellow Episcopalians at Church of the Redeemer.  The second image I offer to you is of four metal beams standing on a vast expanse of lawn where their church once stood.  Thirty one feet of water washed it and the rectory away.  The newly rebuilt parish hall, a one story structure, offers safe harbor for a preschool and various office space for groups involved in the rebuilding efforts from Episcopal Relief and Development.  On Sunday we worshipped in the parish hall with the original wooden altar and marble baptismal font in place—both of which were found after the flood receded.  We met people who had lost their homes but were filled with joy at still being alive—people still saddened with grief but tempered by faith.

Through our connection with Church of the Redeemer, we were able to structure a day when our teenagers were relieved from camp duty and were given an opportunity for hands on work with people whose homes had been destroyed.  My final images for you are the two women we met that day:  Miss Myrtle and Miss Mary, both in their eighties. 

Miss Myrtle’s welcomed us into her newly rebuilt home and promptly showed us the water line which was at 6 feet 5 inches.  We sat in her living room and she shared with us her story of evacuating to a motel just over the bridge with her entire family when Katrina rolled into shore.  When we did get back to her home, everything on the first floor was gone and looters had begun raiding things from the second story.  Her faith held her intact during the loss and slow rebuilding of a life.  She told us about the relief efforts set up through volunteers from all over the country as they prepared food and handed out toiletries from a nearby park.  All this changed her life.  Her new home was built by volunteers but her tailor shop next door remained untouched. 

She unlocked the door into that shop for us and we walked in to witness a horrendous sweep of chaos and destruction.  The mold and mildew were far too dangerous for us to work in, so we gently removed some items that Miss Myrtle wanted out of there and took them to her home for her.  There was no more we could do.  She had given us so very much in such a short time to think about—

Then we went to Miss Mary’s home which was not yet completed.  She too had over six feet of water rush through her house.  Miss Mary was still living in a FEMA trailer but was losing her vision and having cardiac troubles because of the levels of formaldehyde in the tiny, confined trailer.  On top of that, some contractors came in and bilked her for thousands of dollars to do work that was either never done or completely shoddy.  Her son, Mike, came from California to try and get something done for his mother.  A priest at Church of the Redeemer, Jane Bearden, knew of Mike’s frustration and put us in touch with him.  We purchased paint for him and let our young people loose to work side by side with Doug Demary and Mike as they painted the entire inside of Mary’s home.   Dressed in white painting jump suits they looked like white Ninjas.  While they painted away, some of the adults in our group cleaned up the yard.

Far from done, but further along the way, we left the camp and these homes to be worked on by others.  Certainly we benefited from those who came before us; others will benefit from our labor as well.  From Camp Biloxi to Church of the Redeemer to Miss Myrtle and Miss Mary, we laughed and cried; ate, worked, slept and traveled in close quarters.  We met the Lord and, believe me, He is alive and well, even in the ruins.  

Amen.