NEWSLETTER OF THE CHAPEL OF THE CROSS

August 2006: Missions in Honduras, South Africa, Savannah, and the Gulf

IN THIS ISSUE

Page 1
Mission to Honduras
From the Rector
Yo Soy Fotógrafo
Vestry Actions
ABC Sale Disbursements
EYC: Savannah Mission Trip
ECM: Spring Break Mission Trip
Engaging God's Mission in South Africa

Page 2
Your Mission as a Traveling Environmental Steward: Leave No Trace
Parish Bar-B-Que
Dinner on the Grounds
Vacation Church School
August Parish Events
August Service Schedule
Collingridge to Lead Fall Quiet Day on Hildegard of Bingen
From the Parish Mailbox

Mission to Honduras

Ann Henley, Global Missions Committee Chair

About a year ago, after several months of meetings with various interested groups in the parish, the newly formed Global Missions Committee decided on one short-term and two long-term mission initiatives: to send a work group to El Hogar in Tegucigalpa, Honduras, an institution supported by our Social Ministries Committee; to send an advance team to Honduras to explore possibilities for a partner parish in the Diocese of Honduras; and to investigate a similar relationship with a group or parish of the Anglican Church in Africa.

Barbara Day traveled to Capetown and Johannesburg last February with a group from St. John's, Lafayette Square, in Washington, D. C. On May 15, Vicky Jamieson-Drake, Chip Matteson, and I flew to Tegucigalpa and spent 12 days traveling in Honduras and meeting with mission staff personnel, parishioners, and clergy in the Diocese of Honduras. On May 20 our 14-member El Hogar work team arrived in Tegucigalpa. I hope many of you were able to see their pictures and talk with them on June 25 about their rewarding week of work and fellowship with the boys at El Hogar. There will be other opportunities to do so in the future.

The following account of one day's experiences will, I hope, give you an idea of the often disturbing but always enriching experiences Vicky, Chip, and I had as we traveled, talked, and worshiped with our brothers and sisters in Christ in Honduras.

"God sent me to Honduras," Teresa said, "so I could learn to be a good Christian." "Teresa" is the Spanish name used by Tucker Heitman, the feisty SAMS (South American Missionary Society) missionary who for the past five years has served as Mission Team Coordinator for the Northwest area of the Diocese of Honduras. She, Chip, Vicky, and I were jouncing along in a red, extended-cab Nissan 4-by-4 with Amilcar Ortiz, project supervisor and deacon-in-training, at the wheel. We had left San Pedro Sula in the early morning and had breakfast-huevos, chorizos, platanos fritos, and tortillas, washed down with extra-sweet, "extra fuerte" Honduran coffee-at the Mama Dip's equivalent in Sula, first stop on the highway running west to Copan.

This was the our advance team's third day out with the San Pedro mission coordinators. The week before we had traveled in similar fashion with Tucker and Amilcar's counterparts in Tegucigalpa and had come to know some of the forces behind the Episcopal Church's mission projects there: Sandra Hernandez, the tireless and endlessly resourceful project supervisor whose priest husband had been tragically killed, as Hondurans are daily, in an unreported traffic accident; the women of San Juan Evangelista, who, in the middle of one of the worst of Tegucigalpa's hundreds of slums, have created a place where destitute children can come for wholesome meals and structured day care; parishioners in El Reventon, who assembled in their Sunday best to greet visitors from the United States, who, they prayed, might be the ones to bring them dental care and prayer books and help construct the church they so long for.

And, at the end of the week, we had welcomed our "big team," the Chapel of the Cross parishioners who had come to work for a week at El Hogar de Amor y Esperanza, the orphanage and school for boys sponsored by the Episcopal Church. How cool and clean our friends looked when they stepped through the doorway at Toncontin International; how clear and comprehensible they were when they opened their mouths and spoke North Carolina English! For the next week the 14 of them would paint administrative offices, add to the boundary wall at the Technical Institute; weigh and measure boys and organize their growth charts in the clinic; and, of course, donate the 90 pairs of sneakers you provided. What can't be listed or quantified is the love and acceptance our Chapel of the Cross people shed around in this community of boys whose lives have been marked by poverty, neglect, and abuse.

As they painted and played, Vicky, Chip, and I-carrying out our charge to establish a relationship with the Diocese of Honduras and learn about its mission program-were in another part of Honduras altogether. As Amilcar's red Nissan ate up the miles between San Pedro and Copan, the coastal lowlands gave way to steep hills of tropical forests separated by pastures and, occasionally, tobacco fields edged by curing barns that look much like the ones at home. In Santa Rita we stopped at Iglesia Espiritu Santo and met Consuelo, the presiding deacon there; his son, Ozman; and Arnoldo, the Dean of Copan. The three hopped into the bed of the pick-up and we spun away to Copan Ruinas-past the entrance to the archeological park with its masterpieces of Mayan art; through the narrow, cobbled streets of the town itself with its handicraft stores and prettified plaza; then out of town, off the pavement, and onto the pocked red-clay track that served as a road. Amilcar's truck strained its way up the steep incline, shivered and skidded, but finally lurched to a halt in the hamlet of Corrallito.

There to greet us was Adam ("come el primero hombre," he explained) Leon, lay pastor of the mission of San Miguel Arcangel. We waited in the hot sun for Maria, his wife, to come: she wanted us to see the jewelry she and other parishioners fashion of berries and pods they gather-reyna, chajan, lagrimas de Sanpedro-and sell at the entrance of Copan Park. Boys in ragged shirts played soccer in the dirt; a little girl with a basket on her head walked down the road; a bare-bottomed toddler next door stared at us with black, distrustful eyes. I looked in all directions and saw no sign of anything that made life-as-we-know-it possible-no road worthy of the name, no school, no power lines, no running water. My spirits sank. How could an army of mission teams coming non-stop from the US make a dent in such destitution and neglect? But on the hill behind me stood Adam, Amilcar, Teresa, and Arnoldo talking enthusiastically about the church that would stand on that desolate patch of land. All around was degrading poverty and environmental ruin, but there was also an abundance of something precious: faith, the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.

Wherever we went in Honduras-at El Hogar, in every church, mission, and project-we met people of extraordinary faith, generosity, compassion; people like Adam and Maria, full of determination to minister to others and to further the kingdom of God in their lovely, exploited corner of the world. With few resources besides their rich gifts of the spirit, our fellow Episcopalians in Honduras are working miracles.

Bishop Allen would tell us at dinner much later that night that Province Nine, made up of Central and South America, is the fastest-growing province in the Anglican Communion. As we drove back to San Pedro in a pounding, three-hour deluge, Tucker told us more about that growth. Arnoldo, for instance, heads a deanery with 35 parishes spread over a huge state, only four of which have a church building, a vestry, and a deacon or lay minister in charge. Because the diocese can't afford to pay many of the aspiring deacons who complete their seminary training, these men and women work by day in pulperias and on constructions sites; by night and on weekends they drive great distances, as Arnoldo does, to preach and pray at their

missions. Some months ago, Tucker said, Arnoldo was driving through a village that lies between two of his mission parishes, when a group of townspeople stopped his car. "We see that you are a priest," they said, "and we see you drive back and forth through our town. We have a church, but the Catholic fathers haven't been here in years, and we want to worship. If you will be our priest, we will be Episcopalians." So Arnoldo added another flock to his bulging fold, and so the church grows.

Rainwater was swirling and bubbling in the dark streets of San Pedro when the Nissan stopped at last in front of our hotel; we hurried away with just minutes to spare before our dinner with Bishop Allen. But as we thanked Tucker and Amilcar and bid them a hasty good-night, I remembered what Tucker had said all those hours earlier: "God sent me to Honduras so I could learn to be a real Christian." May God send me back to Honduras and grant me grace to become, like those I saw that day, His faithful follower.

Neighborhood children wait for, and parishioners prepare, the noontime soup at San Juan Evangelista

El Hogar technical school students pray before the noontime meal

A student practices welding on a future desk

Vicky Jamieson-Drake and project supervisor, Sandra Hernandez, taken in the front of San Juan's.

Honduras photos by Chip Matteson.

To see more pictures by Chip visit his website at www.chipmatteson.net.

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From the Rector

Dear Friends,

Mission trips have long been a part of the ministry of the Chapel of the Cross. When I first arrived here in the early 1980s, medical personnel and students had begun an annual mission trip to Haiti to bring much needed medical assistance. Prolonged political unrest in Haiti eventually discouraged that connection, but our students began to take on other mission trips both domestic and foreign, eventually even two in one year. In the '90's, our high school students also became involved in annual mission trips, most often within our borders, but also beyond. Toward the end of that decade, within a space of three years, St. Paul AME and the Chapel of the Cross cooperated on two church-building trips to Costa Rica. This year a large team of parishioners traveled to Honduras, principally assisting with the work of El Hogar, an orphanage for boys. We hope to carry on parish-wide mission trips at least annually, in addition to our continued strong youth and student involvements.

I am so pleased with the continued expansion and fruitfulness of our mission opportunities. Not only are we enabled to make a real difference for others, but these are life-changing experiences for us - and not only for our youth and young people, but even for those of us who think of ourselves as more fully formed. Finding the Spirit at work in another culture and among people of a vastly different economic setting can dramatically energize our faith and enlarge our perspective. I hope that many of us of all ages can soon avail ourselves of one of these opportunities. One of the women from St. Paul who went on both Costa Rica trips was well into her eighties!

With the increased complexity of these mission efforts will need to come adequate structure to support them. Up to now, EYC has organized its own planning and fund-raising, Campus Ministry has handled its own, and more recently the Global Ministry Committee initiated and elicited support for the Honduras trip. It is becoming apparent however, that to maximize our efforts and coordinate them better, especially in the choice of destinations and in fund-raising, a more comprehensive structure is desirable. Soon I will be gathering people I know to have interest in this; if you would like to be involved, please let me know.

This issue of Cross Roads highlights many wonderful recent mission efforts. The pictures and the articles give you some flavor of their importance, both to those who participated and to those whom they served and from whom they learned so much. I hope bringing these to you will also excite you about this growing dimension of our parish life and ministry.

- Stephen

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Vestry actions

At its meeting on June 15 the vestry:

Approved the recommendations of the Social Ministry Committee for disbursement of ABC Sale proceeds
Accepted the rector's and wardens' nominations of Terry Eason as chair of the Master Plan Steering Committee and Virginia Carson as chair of the Parish Dialogue Committee
Accepted the Rev. Victoria Jamieson-Drake's sabbatical plans
Approved the decision of the Preschool at the Chapel of the Cross to withdraw from accreditation by the National Association for the Education of Young Children at its expiration in June 2007.

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ABC sale disbursements

The Augustine Project $1,675
Camp Meadow Wood 1,200
El Centro Latino 600
Family Violence and Rape Crisis Services of Chatham County 1,300
Freedom House 2,000
A Helping Hand 1.500
Inter-Faith Council 3,500
Orange County Rape Crisis Center 1,500
Student Health Action Coalition 2,000
Best Buddies International 500
El Futuro, Inc. 2,000
Thompson Faith & Family Focus 500
Chapel Hill Training Outreach Project 500
Orange County Literacy Council 1,500
Chatham Habitat for Humanity 1,000
Exchange Clubs' Family Center 1,000
Preschool at the Chapel of the Cross 500
Project Compassion 1,400
Blue Ribbon Mentor-Advocate 500

______
TOTAL $24,675

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Yo soy fotógrafo

Chip Matteson

What is the soul of a man? Can it be captured in a photograph? A friend told me before going to make pictures in Honduras, "Be sure to ask if it's ok, some believe their soul will be stolen." she said.

I had taken some Spanish in high school and at Carolina. The parish set up a refresher course with Chickle, a local language school. Chickle in Spanish is the same as chickle in English. Chickle is the primary ingredient in gum. I had a friend in San Antonio who adopted a dog because he was a stray but wouldn't go away. She spoke Spanish and named the dog Chickle because the dog kept sticking around. I wish my Spanish had chickled.

We got the full immersion version of learning Spanish in mostly non-English speaking Honduras. I am grateful for it, too. The only way to truly get to know the people and build relationships is to learn the language. Our driver's name in Tegucigalpa was Virgilio. He spoke no English. Any request, any idea, any suggestion from us in our attempt at Spanish was replied by Virgilio with a smile, and "todo bien." It was "all good."

After learning "todo bien" the second word that stuck in my mind was "permisso." The hotel clerk said it and pointed to my bags. A-ha! I thought. "Allow me." There it is - the very word I need in Honduras to ask if I can take a picture. I'll hold up and wag my camera and say "permisso." Sure enough, it did the trick. Most folks nodded yes or shrugged. A few, very few, said no and ducked their heads. I remembered my friend's words. I might steal their soul.

My Spanish grew in Honduras as did my collection of pictures. The first days were extraordinary and hard. I stumbled over my words and my own soul as I saw the

most unimaginable poverty in the western hemisphere, and the world for that matter. Seventy percent unemployment - 70. Some have a roof, fewer have electricity, only the very rich have clean running water in the house.

Day three was the worst that Vicky, Ann and I saw. Imagine seeing the worst poverty, hunger, and filth for two days as we tour mission opportunities, hoping for a light at the end of the tunnel, and then seeing worse, much worse.

I call it the place on the hill. It's a steep slope where folks have built shanties to live in from whatever they found after fleeing what Hurricane Mitch did to their previous home in 1998.

The Episcopal Church has replaced many of the shanties over the years with cinder block houses and latrines. The folks live there so they can sell rocks out of the river at the bottom of the hill to the nearby gravel and concrete company. It's their only economy. They won't leave, even after the Church offered to move them. They won't leave the worst poverty I ever saw because that's all the economy they can imagine.

Sandra, the diocesan liaison who showed us the place on the hill, noticed my mood had changed after that visit. She asked if I was alright. I wasn't. I shook my head to say no. I said, "I need time." I waited until I had the privacy of my hotel room to weep. Men don't cry, but Jesus wept.

The bubble of my so called "happy life" in Chapel Hill was burst. How do I continue to photograph this soulless insanity? On the twisted bright side, I thought, there is no soul to steal as I take pictures during the rest of the trip.

We had Spanish language classes in Tegucigalpa as well. We went the next morning. My teacher, Reynoldo, asked if I was ok. "Como esta usted?" I shook my head no, just as I did for Sandra, but this time, it was time.

I realized by the look on his face he was just getting things started with our lesson but his face quickly changed to real concern and asked, "Que pasa?" What's up?

I told him what I saw, some in Spanish and some in English and I wept as I did; and as I did I was thinking to myself, "This guy thought he was coming to a simple lesson and ends up doing therapy on the spoiled American."

No. Reynoldo's soul, like so many Hondurans, shined. Without fear, sadness or incredulity, he simply spread out his hands and said, "Es realidad." It's our reality.

I said, with fear, sadness, incredulity and an angry finger, "No acepto!" I cannot accept it! It is unacceptable.

With a wry smile, he calmly said, "Todo bien." Once I heard Reynoldo say "todo bien" with that smile, in this setting, I burst out laughing. "It's all good."

"Todo bien" in not just a phrase that can be translated into "It's all good." It was the turning point. "Todo bien," to me, means grace through hardship and service. The Honduran people shine despite poverty. Life goes on in the midst of unacceptable conditions with grace, God's spirit. "Espiritu." My Chapel Hill expectations, that I held onto so tightly, were let go. I realized what I was really mourning.

When I look back at pictures from "the place on the hill" I see the teenage girl. When we met we gave each other the traditional countryside greeting, a hug. After the usual amount of time a hug should last, she wouldn't let go. I was surprised and saddened. I held on too. After some more time, I shepherded us toward walking arm in arm. I said, "permisso?" and wagged my camera. She nodded, let go, and posed. I realize now that she was wearing what any teenager would wear out of the hippest teen beat magazines. She found a way to shine or someone helped her shine in the worst poverty I have seen. The word "light" in Spanish is "luz."

I see a picture of the boy who was swinging on a rope in front of his family's new cinder block house, while the dogs barked at me as I made his picture. He did a dance when I showed him the picture despite having dogs to feed as well. The word "to dance" in Spanish is "bailar."

I see a picture of the family outside their new cinder block house all smiles for the visitor with the camera. "Happy" in Spanish is feliz.

Did I capture the soul of the people of Honduras in pictures? I look back and wonder if I stole anybody's soul. Lord knows they seemed to hold mine hostage for a few days until I learned "todo bien" and what the words mean to me and mi amigos in Honduras. Once we can weep and mourn the death of our expectations and incredulity, we can go to work, rejoicing in what is risen from the new life and relationships we can build with Espiritu de Dios.

An illegal market in front of Igelsia Dolores. The Honduran flag is on the left as children play in front of their parents' shops.

Señor Allen, church elder with the mission of San Miguel Arcangel.

Merchant with child in Los Angles

Marimba players at El Hogar practicing before their trip to Columbus,OH, for General Convention

Parishioners from El Reventon, in their Sunday best

boys at El Hogar line up for dinner

the feisty veteran missionary, Tucker, from the Diocesan office in San Pedro Sula

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EYC Savannah Mission Trip

John Craver

In June, 25 students from the Chapel of the Cross took a mission trip to Savannah, GA. Our intentions were simple - to help the community and people of this coastal city. Honestly, when I decided to go to Savannah I expected to be working laboriously for people I did not know, doing jobs I did not enjoy. My expectations were not on the mark.

We arrived at Coastal Middle School, our home for the week, and met the youth group with whom we would be working. They were from the Woodlawn United Methodist Church in Panama City Beach, FL. Each church was divided into groups that volunteered at different locations during the week. My group was assigned to the Second Harvest Food Bank and the Old Savannah City Mission. Some other worksites were the Salvation Army, retirement homes, and houses to be painted for poor people.

Working at the food bank was a powerful and enjoyable experience. We worked with the customers and helped them find what they needed in the store. Knowing that I helped a family feed themselves created a feeling of satisfaction for me. I realized how fortunate I was to have food on the table every day without worry.

The Old Savannah Mission is a homeless shelter. At first, I was intimidated by my work at the mission. I befriended some of the homeless at the shelter and became more comfortable carrying on a conversation with them. Seeing their smiling faces and knowing that I helped to

brighten their day gave me a wonderful feeling of accomplishment. At the mission, we were also asked to paint homes which served as transitional housing for recently released prisoners from the city jail. These men need a place to stay so they can get a job and resume a normal life. The work was strenuous and time-consuming but very rewarding.

Volunteering was the main purpose of the trip, but after a long day of work many fun activities were planned for us. One of these activities was going to River Street, a touristy place with shops, restaurants, and street entertainment. We also swam in the ocean at Tybee Island. These activities strengthened friendships, sparked new ones, and created well-deserved time to relax.

This mission trip has deepened my faith in God and the capacity of the human spirit. Through daily prayer, singing religious songs, and seeing God's miracles performed where we volunteered, I have obtained a better understanding of who God is and what He can do. As a group, we attended a Baptist church whose congregation was primarily African American. I was fascinated by their joy-filled and spontaneous worship! Pastor Ricky Temple preached an incredibly moving sermon on Christian love. Temple used his hands and booming voice inflections to emphasize points and keep the congregation's interest.

The week I spent in Savannah taught me to appreciate the many blessings I have, such as food, shelter, and a loving family. I also learned to give and to share with those who don't have these things. The trip helped me to develop skills to make friends. The friends I made on the trip will always be in my thoughts and prayers.

Thanks to those at Chapel of the Cross who supported our trip through their leadership, prayers, and money. The time was well spent and very worthwhile!

Photo by John Craver

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ECM Spring Break Mission Trip

Chris Jochem, ECM Member

The Episcopal Campus Ministry (ECM) has a long tradition of mission work both domestically in the local communities and Ashe County, NC, as well as abroad. This past year ECM made the decision to move in new directions with its mission work. While we were discerning where our time and talents could be most useful in supporting others and building relationships, hurricane Katrina struck the Gulf coast.

Like many in the parish and across the country we were shocked by the devastation and the chaos that followed and looked for any way to help. ECM responded by working with the Social Ministry Committee and the Katrina Relief Taskforce at the Chapel of the Cross to send emergency supplies, but we also saw an opportunity to provide more help in the spring semester as the long rebuilding period began.

ECM spent the UNC-CH Spring Break this year volunteering in Mississippi helping people affected by the hurricane. From March 10 to 19 Tammy Lee and Pat Van Culin traveled with 10 students (Karen Fisher, Meredith Gilliam, Bynum Hoekstra, Maryanne Jaconis, Chris Jochem, Mary Olive Jones, Heath Nettles, Logan Price, Lauren Westafer, and Molly Willis) on a 13-hour, 47-minute trip to Camp Coast Care in Long Beach, Mississippi.

Camp Coast Care (www.campcoastcare.com) is one of several relief centers that have been established by various organizations to provide support and long-term rebuilding aid to the communities. Camp Coast Care is organized by the Lutheran Episcopal Services in Mississippi under the Bishop of The Episcopal Church in Mississippi. It is currently housed in the gymnasium of Coast Episcopal School, which was spared severe damage during Katrina. Work at the camp has gone on six and half days a week almost continuously since soon after the storm hit.

The camp is run by a small group of dedicated, long-term volunteer staff members who lead the visiting volunteers in the work of the camp. The director, Van Bankston, spoke every evening about how Camp Coast Care is designed to provide hospitality and that we were living in a "monastic community" - living, working, cooking, cleaning, and worshiping together.

Volunteers ranged in ages from high-school teenagers to retirees. Everyone had something they could contribute to the community. There were daily chores of cooking and cleaning, organizing tools, and social work intake of cases that went on to keep the camp running. Tammy completely organized the loading dock and worked in helping the camp transition from an emergency response to a case-based organizing system. She also counseled the staff.

The main focus is the work crews. They were assigned jobs by the case workers who assessed the needs of the homeowners who apply to the camp. Each work crew had a skilled leader who guided others. Pat was a crew leader to hang sheetrock. The students of ECM divided into several work crews. Working separately gave us different experiences and a more complete picture of the devastation and the need on the Gulf Coast.

It is difficult to describe the devastation we saw. It is on a scale so huge it is almost unimaginable. We worked in the areas of Long Beach, Pass Christian, and Waveland. Some of the highest winds of the storm were recorded here. Even six months after the storm while we were there, crews continued to restore electricity and water. The situation can seem overwhelming and depressing and it must to the people who have to live with it every day. Different areas are at very different stages in the rebuilding process. Some homes had not even been entered yet. Other homes had already been gutted and new drywall was being hung. Homeowners we met were living in trailers provided by FEMA on their own property or with friends and relatives in other towns.

ECM students worked on various tasks, some of the time with cleanup crews and other times with rebuilding crews. Cleanup can involve different things. We cleaned up yards and houses removing limbs and trees as well as debris left by the flood waters. We also pulled up floors in flooded houses and removed brickwork. Some of our jobs might seem small, such as our first job - to remove a shed. The jobs saved our homeowners that work, those steps, and that time. It gave them a chance to rest and to know in some small way that they had not been forgotten.

The houses in the area where we worked were frequently built on concrete slabs; those houses built on foundations were swept away in the storm. To recover from a flood, a house is stripped of all its sheetrock, insulation, flooring, and wiring while the studs and the slab dry. Once the roof and siding are repaired these shells of houses are rebuilt. Skilled volunteers from the camp and contractors handled the wiring and plumbing. ECM students and others hung insulation and sheetrock for much of the week.

We felt very welcomed at Camp Coast Care and it was nice to come back every evening after a tiring day of work. The camp is well-organized and provides three meals a day to all the volunteers, hot showers, and even computer and telephone access. We slept comfortably on cots set up in one half of the gymnasium while the other half is a common area used for dining and on Sundays it is transformed into the sanctuary for St. Patrick's Episcopal Church which was destroyed in the hurricane.

The camp has hosted volunteers from all 50 states. During our stay, there were several groups and individuals volunteering. It happened that there were many college-aged groups working at the camp during our week, since many of the spring recesses overlapped, but all ages and abilities come to the camp to help. The volunteers have started a tradition of decorating a sign and nailing it to a post left in front of the camp. There are now several posts covered in signs listing the hometowns of volunteers. ECM left its own mark by decorating a birdhouse.

The volunteers grew together as a community as we got to know each other over the week, sharing meals and working alongside one another. Seeing new friends depart was slightly sad, but new arrivals each day kept the energy and enthusiasm of the camp high. It was a constant cycle through the camp. We all contributed to the larger sense of community at the camp. Tammy led the group in morning and evening prayer several times, and Bynum Hoekstra used his musical talents to lead the group in songs during worship services.

ECM also took time in the evenings to process our own thoughts, emotions, and reflections from the day. Tammy led our discussions in the evenings, and one focus point for the week was a quote by Margaret Meade: "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has."

Our processing time was a very valuable time for all of us. We gave observations, shared in joys and vented frustrations. This time allowed us to learn more about each other and we became a smaller community within the large one. Some of the members of our trip have been kind enough to share some of their reflections and I can only present them here since we each experienced something different.

Pat Van Culin

Over Spring Break, I traveled to the Mississippi Gulf Coast with 10 college students and Tammy Lee to work at Camp Coast Care. We stayed in a school gym with 100 other volunteers and staff, eating, sleeping and worshipping as a community.

The majority of my time was spent at a young couple's house which had been flooded nearly to the top of the roof. The first day at the site, the owner was working like an automaton, moving at high speed and virtually silent. As the days passed, he began to talk with us, to work with us and to share some of his experiences, hopes, dreams, and a fear of the upcoming hurricane season. We met his family including his 11 month-old son. After five days of hanging sheetrock, their house was beginning to look and feel like a home.

On the 14-hour drive back to Chapel Hill, we talked about having too much "stuff." Sometimes the "stuff" wasn't things but complacency or fear of failure. Ten young adults with no knowledge of hanging sheetrock had become an awesome construction team. During the week, it became evident that the physical labor was the tool for the real work-building relationships and restoring hope. I know we made a difference in one family's life but the bigger change was in mine. Please keep the people of the Gulf Coast in your prayers as the work there has barely begun.

Heath Nettles

The trip was filled with mixed emotions. It was rough to see those who had lost so much, even those who had lost everything. However, hope remained in these shattered communities.

A student with us reflected on one man's suggestion that "Katrina was more of a blessing and less of a disaster." This was in reference to the strength which has built up around the community and the cooperation of Christian Churches in the relief efforts.

I worked with students from Tennessee, Texas, and Georgia. Episcopalians, Methodists, Lutherans, Catholics, Baptists and others were working side by side with the same goals in mind-the rebuilding of a community all in the name of Christian service. Indeed, we were a small group of faithful, committed people working to make a change. Some days, we put up dry wall and new floors in communities which at one time lay completely underwater, other days we helped those whose possessions were scattered about upon their foundations.

Many of these victims were such a blessing. Indeed at times, I felt as if I had received more from them than they ever could have from me. I heard tales of families that fled and are still yet to return and those who stayed behind who would perish during the storm. Waveland, a town about 30 minutes from New Orleans, was completely destroyed. Nothing remained in front of the railroad tracks which worked as a levy. Only FEMA trailers stand where houses once stood, and those are the lucky people. Others have been forced to erect tent cities and await assistance. Even few trees, sidewalks, streets, and bridges are left. Indeed, it was the closest to a third world country as I have come. The entire town looked as if it had suffered an atomic explosion.

Another lady in Long Beach had lost everything, yet she still joined us in salvaging what few bricks we could from the foundation. She shared stories about what the town was like before the storm and it was indeed such a blessing to share in her experience. I wondered too if I was getting more out of her than she could have ever received from the few bricks I dug out of what remained of her foundation.

Perhaps the most striking situation was the story of a lady who had truly lost all- her home, her possessions, even her family.

A sign there read, "Thirty men and thirteen women helped to rebuild a home for a woman who lost everything but her faith in God."

Meredith Gilliam

In thinking back on my experience in Mississippi, living and working with the people of Camp Coast Care, certain memories stick out. I worked for the week with a small crew of volunteers ranging from their teens to their 40s, who had come for a variety of personal reasons from North Carolina, Texas, and Tennessee to work a few days or more at the camp. During the week we worked at four or five sites, from a flat foundation where a house used to stand to an intact home where the need wasn't so much physical as emotional for the homeowner, who was worried she had been forgotten. I remember the quiet in our van that set in as we drove through certain neighborhoods where nothing was left but trees, piles of home debris, and FEMA trailers, a tire swing here and an upturned boat there. There were places where people who had lived very comfortable lives on the waterfront found their homes reduced to trash and their belongings scattered around their neighbors' yards. Digging around the foundation of one of those houses, I remember turning up a monogrammed bracelet belonging to the homeowner's mother, and being struck not by the loss that she was experiencing, but her graciousness and polite interest in those of us who were digging up pieces of her life. Another day, our crew worked at the home of a young family where the work had hardly been touched, pulling boxes of children's clothes and family pictures out of their attic, and doing our best to respect their quietness and held-in emotions. At the end of each day, we returned to the "monastic" community that had been set up in the gymnasium of Coast Episcopal School, where everyone came together for evening prayer and dinner, welcoming newcomers and taking turns caring for each other by washing dishes, sweeping bathrooms, and folding chairs.

Some days left our crew tired but satisfied at the new skills we had learned and the work we had accomplished, and other days left us frustrated at what we hadn't been able to do, because of poor planning or lack of resources. I realized fairly quickly that the Gulf Coast is not going to be rebuilt by volunteers, but by professionals in the practical way-at homes where people can pay the most first, and for the needier families last. Our role as volunteers was, of course, to do everything we could with our time and our talent, but more importantly to show those with whom we worked, by our actions, that they have not been forgotten in their time of need, and that they are not alone as they journey through it. I think that this is also God's message to the Gulf Coast and to all people: that none of us are alone in our neediness. Whenever we were able to express this message, we acted as God's messengers, and this symbolic role gave meaning to all that we did.

This trip was very rewarding and valuable for all of us. Everyday was a learning experience. We learned about the people and places we went to help. Some days we learned practical skills like how to hang a piece of sheetrock or insulation. Other days we learned about ourselves and each other. I found myself thinking about how I would react if I were in their situation and if I could accept so much kindness and help from volunteers with the grace and politeness as many of the people we helped.

Please continue to support the communities of the Gulf coast. There is still much need and the rebuilding of lives and homes is a process that will continue for many years.

ECM would like to thank the Chapel of the Cross and all the people who have continued to generously contribute to our Mission Fund over the years making this trip and other mission work possible. We raise funds through donations, providing childcare at Parents' Evenings Out, the Christmas wreath sale, home football game parking passes, and other projects.

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Engaging God's Mission in South Africa

Barbara Day

Following are excerpts from a paper written by parishioner Barbara Day in partial fulfillment of requirements for the Doctor of Ministry Program at Virginia Theological Seminary. Space requirements in Cross Roads prohibit reprinting the entire paper. Please contact Barbara if you would like to read the full version.

"We pray for people so poor that they cannot help themselves; whose subsistence crops have been destroyed by climatic disasters; for people who live in areas where rainfall is unreliable and varies from year to year. We pray for small children who die of malnutrition and AIDS and others who suffer from disease because their mothers do not understand the values of different kinds of foods. We pray for little children too young to pray for themselves."

Written by Young People in Kenya (Angela Ashwin)

Our baptismal covenant calls for us to "Strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being." We respond, "I will, with God's help." The terms of our Baptismal Covenant transcend denominational identity. Our Presiding Bishop and Primate, Frank Griswold, reminds us that our Prayer Book tells us that the mission of the Church is reconciliation, and that we must "Go forth and show in our lives our commitment to our brothers and sisters at home and around the world."

In the theme of engaging God's mission and responding to the Policy for Action of the Episcopal Church, U.S.A., and with the support of my rector, the Rev. Stephen Elkins-Williams and the Global Missions Committee, I represented the Chapel of the Cross on a pilgrimage to South Africa (February 7-19, 2006), sponsored by St. John's, Lafayette Square, Washington, D.C. This pilgrimage was an answer to the call of the Episcopal Church to accept "its responsibility for witnessing to the gospel through an active concern for all of God's creation."

The ministry was a pilgrimage or mission trip to South Africa to work with the Diocese of Highveld in Springs, near Johannesburg, as a part of a covenant relationship with St. John's Church in the Diocese of Washington, D.C.

Two years ago, St. John's visited the Rev. Sharron Dinnie and her church, St. Peter and St. Paul, and learned

Written by Young People in Kenya (Angela Ashwin)

Two years ago, St. John's visited the Rev. Sharron Dinnie and her church, St. Peter and St. Paul, and learned St. John's brought money for the purchase of the school and land around it, for materials and supplies, for continuing education for the clergy in the diocese and for sending five of the older children to a private school close by. In addition, we also met with the bishop of the diocese and parishioners from Sharron's church.

We were at the school for the dedication by the bishop where we witnessed a "yard full" of parents, children, priests from surrounding parishes, and community leaders. All were enthusiastic about the event.

A fond memory comes to mind: At the dedication the bishop had spoken, Sharron had spoken, Luis [Léon, rector of St. John's] had graciously presented generous checks, and the children had performed beautifully. And then, the heavens opened and it began to pour rain and thunder. Teachers scurried the little ones into the building; children removed their wet shirts and suddenly someone remembered that they had not sung the national anthem. Immediately the children were called to return outside, in the rain, without shirts to perform. And they did, and beautifully so. What a wonderful group of joyous people.

Also, as a part of working with the children, their parents and teachers, we spent time at St. Peter and St. Paul Church in fellowship with the parishioners and church leaders. They fed us generously, sang and prayed with and for us, presented St. John's with a beautiful hand made wall hanging, and visited informally with us in small groups to share our various church activities.

This "genuine spiritual fellowship" continued at the homes of the Bishop of Highveld and at the home of the Archbishop of South Africa in Bishop's Court in Cape Town. It was our desire to hear his views and understandings regarding the state of the Anglican Communion in general and the differences we are currently experiencing. It was clear that the relationship with St. John's would be ongoing and hopefully, a mission with the Chapel of the Cross launched.

The Millennium Development Goals (known as MDGs) and developed in 2000, with pledges for achievement by all the member states of the United Nations, offer, in one sense, behavioral components. They are specific in addressing action and they are proposed by, not one theorist but all the member states of the United Nations. There is no specific conceptual framework; rather, there are eight goals with a rationale for each. We saw a direct connection to these goals and our relationships and actions in South Africa. They are as follows:

The first one, to eradicate extreme hunger and poverty, was directly addressed. Though minor for an entire area, funds were made available for the school and for the children and parents in the school. A total of $53,000 was given to them by Rev. Léon. They were extremely thankful and grateful.

To achieve universal primary education is the second goal. The school that we visited, worked in and financially supported was a primary school. Because these children live in "shanty" housing, getting to public school may be a problem for them (although the Government says "universal education is available for all"). This school supports children from birth through second and third grade, and has an after-school program for children who have graduated from this primary school and gone to other schools. Special emphasis has been given to five children who are now in a private school. Our group, with initial support from St. John's for two of the

children, collected $2,000 "on the bus" for a total of $6,000 to provide scholarships for former Daggafontein students now attending private primary schools.
Promoting gender equality and empowering women is a goal that we touched somewhat in that funds were given specifically for four young girls and one young boy to attend the private church related school. Hopefully, achieving a good education will empower these young females as they mature in life. Although we know about the patriarchal society in Africa, hearing about it directly was very troubling to us; e.g., very young female children are still being sexually used by men with HIV with the belief (or hope) that this may provide a cure for AIDS. Also, women are still very subservient to their husbands even though they and their husbands know that the man has HIV. There is also a belief in some parts of Africa that if a husband dies the woman must marry his brother (if he is unmarried and even infected with HIV) or face prostitution in the street knowing that it will be only a matter of time before the woman is infected. The hope is that equal numbers of girls and boys may go to primary and secondary school by 2005 and go on to higher education by 2015.
Reducing child mortality is another goal. The school (Kwasa) that we supported works very hard in this area. We observed good food being served, fresh fruits, peanut butter sandwiches, cereal, milk and juice. Very young babies were napping (albeit on the floor, on blankets and cuddled together like little kittens - a lovely sight). These children are resting, eating well and learning.

Improving maternal health is a goal. I did not witness

this or ask about it directly, but was impressed with many mothers walking to and from the school, especially for the events planned for us. There is a mothers' "sewing group" that meets daily at the school, making bags, jewelry, small clothes, etc. Hopefully, they too are receiving educational help in a variety of ways (something to follow-up on next time).
Combating HIV/AIDS, malaria, and other diseases is certainly one of the reasons we are there to interact with others about these diseases, especially HIV. In talking often with young women at the school, two were very open in telling me that they were infected with HIV and that they take their medications regularly, eat as well as they can, and rest appropriately. One was a social worker with two children who, at this time, are not infected. She has no husband. She indicated that she could get all the needed medication being close to "Jberg," but that women out in the country may not have access on a regular basis to medication. This, of course, is an on-going concern; South Africa has the greatest percentage of HIV/AIDS than any other part of Africa.
Ensuring environmental sustainability is goal number 7 and aims to make drinking water safer and improve the lives of 100 million slum dwellers. We were, for sure, in the slums where people lived with no running water, no electricity, no plumbing facilities, etc. Johannesburg and Cape Town were both close to these slums (called informal settlements) and touted to have some of the best drinking water in the world. We were told to drink it; it was very safe. The slum dwellers, on the other hand, were in a different position.
Developing global partnerships is the final goal. Certainly this is the intent, on a small scale, of the Diocese of Washington, D.C. and St. John's as a part of it.

(Cross Roads continues on page 2.)

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Last updated: December 10, 2006