A church home

I was looking forward to attending the Easter Vigil Mass at St Thomas the Apostle Parish, my local church here in Chicago. However, my friend Thomas had been asked by one of his lecturers to altar serve at a chapel called Our Lady of Pompei, so a few of us went there for Mass instead.

It was a beautiful liturgy, with everything done by the book and done well. We started outside with the Easter fire, then processed into the hall for the liturgy of the word, where all 7 old testament readings were proclaimed by confident readers, then we processed into the church and gathered around the altar for eucharist.

And yet, I didn't feel at home there. I felt like a tourist. I suspected that this was because I didn't know anyone there apart from my couple of friends. But on reflection, I realised that it wasn't just this. A few weeks ago I attended my friend Jason's Lutheran church. I was one of only 3 non-African Americans there (the other two being Jason and the other seminarian) and the only non-Lutheran, and yet I felt very much at home there.

I realised that what I was reacting to at that chapel service was a sense that all the ministers at that liturgy had been imported specially for the Mass. The readers, the musicians, the altar servers including Thomas. I suspect they were mostly paid, too. It didn't feel like an expression of this community's worship. Admittedly, it was a shrine, not a regular parish, but it just didn't feel right. There wasn't a sense of connection / affection between the ministers and the congregation. This was all the more evident at the supper afterwards.

So I went to an Easter morning Mass at St Thomas also, and while the liturgy was nowhere near as magnificent (although still very good), I felt at home. I belonged. Fr Michael, the pastor, mingles with people before and after the service, and the homily always feels like it is to, for, and about this congregation. The priest, altar servers, choir and readers come down from the sanctuary and make the sign of peace with people the whole length of the church. Two of the singers particularly just light up and exude a contagious joy when they sing. It's a good place to be.

When I came to Chicago I thought I'd go exploring churches and take notes and get ideas. But the words of CS Lewis' Screwtape Letters reminded me that the best way to not be transformed by liturgy is to be a connoisseur and critic of liturgies, rather than a consumer of them. So I decided to just stick to my local parish. I wanted to get involved in some ministry, but to do something non-sacramental and non-liturgical, something I don't do in parish ministry at home.

So I joined a team which stocks and serves food at a food pantry on Saturdays for homeless & low-income families. Its a no-brainer of a job - just bagging up groceries and taking them to the front room where they are given away to those who need them, but doing this has made me feel like I'm part of the life & work of the parish. I've met some great fellow-volunteers who I now see at Mass, which increases my sense of belonging. I've always known that people who get involved in ministries in parishes are the ones who have a sense of belonging to that parish, and its been good to re-learn this from the other side of the pews.

Last day in The Big Apple

How to spend Good Friday reverently in one of the most exciting and busiest cities in the world? It appears not to have been a public holiday today - everything was going full tilt. All shops open.

We tried to be as non-commercial as we could today. We walked through Central Park, which is enormous. We found the John Lennon "Strawberry Fields" memorial, where 27 years later people are still placing flowers and strawberries. We went to stations of the cross in a downtown church. And we took the free ferry across to Staten Island, from which you get a view of the Statue of Liberty, and look back at Jersey City, Manhattan, and Brooklyn - quite a megalopis.

We didn't get off at the Statue of Liberty, but enscribed in the base is a poem called "The New Collossus" which contains the words "Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free....". There is something wonderful about the founding principles of the US such as this, and the declaration of indepence (which the statue of liberty marks the centenary of), but wealth has overwhelmed and subsumed the dream. I don't think that poem is on the new US-Mexican razor wire border fence. Then again, it's not on the walls of Villawood detention centre either.... I shouldn't be too harsh on the US - it's what Australia, and indeed just about everywhere else in the world is trying to be.

And I have had such a great adventure not just in New York but in all my time in America. I have received so much generosity and hospitality from so many people.

It's been wonderful to see Ro and Michael. I enjoy their company so much, and we like to travel at about the same pace. I couldn't really keep up with their taste in food and wine, except for their generosity and kindness in shouting for much of it.

I think my remaining weeks in the US will pass pretty quickly now. This trip was the last big landmark on the calendar before I leave, and I think it will be a little bit of a downhill run from here. But, I do plan to make the most of it, starting with this weekend which is Easter, going to the vigil at my local parish, and lunch with friends on Easter Sunday. Happy Easter to you as you read this - I hope Jesus' resurrection takes place deep within your heart.

So much to see

It is said that New York is a city which never sleeps. From the sound of the traffic outside our apartment at 3am this would seem to be true. The city is always abuzz. There's no more vehicular traffic than Sydney, but the big difference is the number of people on the sidewalks. At 10pm its like Pitt St Sydney at its busiest.

There is so much light. From the dazzling neon of Times Square, to the Empire State Building whose rooftop lights change colour and are diffused by mist into a simmering haze. The Empire State Building is just down the road from us on 34th St. The street is the eponymous thoroughfare of the 1930's film Miracle on 34th St, named after the world's largest department store, a Macy's, two blocks down from us.

Highlights: I went back to Metropolitan Museum of Art. Saw rooms full of Van Gogh, Renoir, and several more works of Georges Seurat, whose Sunday at La Grande Jatte is my favourite painting in Chicago. Incredible to see world famous artworks such as Van Gogh's Irises up close enough to see the texture of the paint.

We heard one of my favourite musicals, Rent. Ro and I loved it. Michael found it a bit overwhelming. I've grown to love a lot of the songs which I didn't resonate with when last I saw it in Sydney, such as Light my Candle and No Day but Today. It was great to see it on Broadway, here in New York, a couple of miles from where it was set. Like watching Jaws by the beach. Or Flying High on a plane.

Yesterday we saw the headquarters for global evil, I mean capitalism, Wall St. The armed guards with machine guns, the road barricades and sniffer dogs helped to cement the impression that the wealth produced here is not to be shared evenly. Michael was keen to see it. We also saw the 9/11 hole in the ground, Ground Zero. A strong sense of propaganda abounded - the deceased and named as "The Heroes of 9/11" - they were just office workers who died tragically. But they died with a cafe latte in their hands in airconditioned offices, not slowly of starvation, poverty or preventable diseases. Around 2000 people died in Manhattan on 9/11. Around 2000 people died in Africa the same day, and every day since, largely because of the kind of work

done by people who work in places like The World Trade Centre. I scoffed at the signage saying

"These towers were an icon of prosperity and progress, belonging not just to New York, but to the whole world".

Aside from my cynicism about this though, we saw some spectacular arcitecture at the old, southern end of the island such as the Supreme Court building, pictured.

Then we walked across the Brooklyn Bridge, to, unsurprisingly, Brooklyn, a whole different world of bohemian art gallerys. There is an area called DUMBO - Down Under Manhattan Bridge Overpass which Rosemary really wanted to see, and it was well worth the visit.

New York, New York

I've joined my sister Rosemary and her husband Michael on holidays in New York for a week.

New York is big, loud, crowded and fast. Even Chicago really isn't a patch on it. Last night we walked through midtown, through Times Square (really a long rectangle!) and went to the top of the Rockefeller Centre to take in the amazing cityscape.

Today we went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art - "The Met", a staggeringly beautiful building which is a fitting to house 17 acres of art and artifacts. It was a nice improvement on the disappointing Guggenheim Museum, whose major exhibit was dozens upon dozens of canvases contained brown stains which resembled the love child of the Shroud of Turin and a dirty nappy (apologies to both the Shroud and babypoo). Also featured were installations of what appeared to be flying spit roasted pigs, and a wrecked ship filled with broken crockery. "Pretentious", said Rosemary. I wonder if it's The Emporer's New Art; whether anyone actually likes this crap, or if everyone just pretends to for fear of looking uncultured. I'll take my chances.

Back to the good stuff at the Met. Enormous Chinese tapestries. 5000 year old Egyptian artifacts including complete sarcophagi. 15th century Dutch religious works. A feature by Nicholas Poussin, whose dominant genre is landscapes with bodies of water and figures in the foreground.

There was just too much to take in - I hope to go back again tomorrow. But for now, we're off to see the musical "Rent". Sure, I saw this in Sydney 5 years ago, but it will be different seeing it in New York!

48 hours

Jack Bauer could save the world twice in 48 hours. I couldn't, but I probably say that the past 48 hours have been among the best in my time in Chicago.

Wed arvo: Spiritual direction, with my wonderful Dominican sister Mary Therese. I always feel listened to and challenged by here.

Wed arvo: Went running with Peter (who I ran with some last year) and Eldon (who has wanted me to run with him to get the motivation to run). I could probably have walked just as fast, but it was a beautiful clear afternoon and good to be with them.

Wed arvo: We had a 2nd rite of reconciliation here at CTU, and I was one of the confessors. Having not done any sacramental ministry for awhile, I had forgotten what a privilege it is, and how powerful it is to hear people's heartfelt confessions, and to pray with them and announce God's forgiveness. I am also very humbled when friends or people who know me well have enough trust in God, in me and in the sacrament to come to me. As a priest I am just an empty vessel for God's grace and forgiveness, but the image I have is of water flowing through a pipe - the pipe is taking water to somewhere else, but it gets wet on the inside in the process. In being there for people's encounter with God in reconciliation, I find I get touched by God's love too.

Wed night: I've been meaning to make time to have dinner with my friend Todd for some time now, for him to tell me the full story of his calling to become a pastor in the Lutheran church. I had previously shared my calling story with him. We finally got together, and it was great to hear his quite remarkable story, which took place during his tour of duty as a soldier in Iraq a few years back.

Thurs morning: IRF. One of those random classes we have which are not about formation, but just general updating of theology for us. We had a guest lecturer, Fr John Melloh, whom I'd heard a little of on tape previously, and very much disliked. So I prayed that morning that I would have an open heart and mind. And I did in fact like him, and found his teaching - on styles of preaching to be very useful.

Thurs arvo: Did a labyrinth walk with Jason, as our final lenten prayer time together. We used the old mystic tradition of the purgative, illuminative, and unitive way. As we walked in, we stopped at each turn to meditate on letting go (of distractions, worries, needs, and anything which blocks us from God). At the centre we prostrated, surrendering our knowledge to God and asking him to teach our hearts, and as we walked out we walked with a focus on the presence of God, and on God being in charge. By the end I felt very centred and peaceful. It was a poweful conclusion to what has been a great lenten exercise of sharing prayer with a friend.

Thurs arvo: Had coffee with Francie, who I've been trying catch up with for some time.

Thurs arvo: Went running with Todd. Todd's a lot faster than me, so it was a good training run. But we also continued last night's conversation, recognising many points of convergence of what God has done in each of our lives.

Thurs night: Poker night, as always. This, with Jason, Todd, Matt and the whole lutheran gang has been the cornerstone of my social life this year. And after the game we celebrated the warmer weather, heading outside to sit around a fire. There we made our plans and booked our end of semester holiday in South Carolina.

Fri morning: Matt & Jason came over to join us for 7.30 am morning prayer (pretty good for guys who went to bed at 3am!) then Matt & I had breakfast together, which I think might become a tradition.

Class was good once again.

Mark Twain advised not to let school interfere with one's education. While I am learning some good things in class, for me so much more has happened outside of class. I am learning a lot through prayer and relationships. I have been more consistent during Lent with prayer every morning, and I am feeling the fruit of that in a renewed energy both for looking forward to life and ministry back home (only 2 months to go), and in making the most of relationships and opportunities here.

Snowboarding in Utah

When I knew I was coming to Chicago to study, one of the things I was most looking forward to was to go snowboarding in the northern hemisphere. This weekend, my dream came true.

Friends from Narraweena, Mark and Mary Morris invited me to come join them for a weekend at Snowbird ski resort, Salt Lake City, Utah.

It was a fantastic weekend. Steeper mountains and thicker, drier snow than I have ever experienced. We spent both days on black and double black runs, hardly ever going on groomed trails, because the off-piste areas were so covered in powder snow.

My favourite run contained a long chute, with burms on both sides, which I could ride high to control speed, almost travelling horizontal, or press in low to go faster. There were gondolas and chairlifts, no queues. No crowds on the slopes. Just amazing conditions. Nothing in Australia comes close.

The people on the bus

As I caught the bus to the airport on the weekend, I was, as I have been before, the only white person on the bus. When I got on the plane to fly to Salt Lake City, there were, I think, no black people on the plane.

There are more black than white people in Chicago, with Latino's coming in a close third.

What a stark contrast between those who can afford to ride the bus (read, can't afford a car), and those who can afford to take the plane. It was the clearest sign I've had of the wealth discrepancy between white & black in Chicago. It's pretty much duplicated around the world....

Bethany Lutheran Church

Today I visited Bethany Lutheran Church, at which my friends Jason and Dan are doing their pastoral work. I have never been to a Lutheran service/Mass before, but I figured it would be fairly similar to a Catholic Mass. It wasn't!

I was one of only 3 white people there- Jason and Dan were the other two - this is one of very few African American Lutheran churches. And it was everything I hoped an African American church would be. There were Amen!s and Hallelujah!s. There was singing, and swaying, and handclapping. And such a vibe of love and grace. From the opening song I had a thrill of anticipation, that God was in this place, and that God was going to move among us.

The service had all the elements of a Catholic Mass, just rearranged and enhanced. They use the same scripture readings as we do. There is a creed, a sign of peace, and a shortened eucharistic prayer prior to communion. But there was a preliminary bible study/sunday school, plus lots of singing, individual prayer time, and blessing, and lunch to follow. It's a whole day at church - we were there from 9.30 - 3. And the time flew. A great, great experience. Hallelujah!

Pictured here is Jason drumming with Pastor Powell (he's got pretty good rhythm for a white boy!)