Well, today is officially our last day in New Orleans. I cannot believe how fast time flew by over the past 6 days. But at least we got to end our festivities in New Orleans with an incredible church mass, group reflection, and one last night of goofing off at the camp.
One of the major highlights on the entire trip was going to church today. For starters the church was the first African American Roman Catholic Church I have ever gone to in my life. To be quite frank, I never knew such a thing existed. That may sound a bit naive on my behalf, but I have never gone to a Catholic Mass where there were actually people who looked like me. However, race is not the most important issue here. The most significant aspect about the church was its vibrant energy. We walked into the church and were blasted with hospitality from every person in sight. It was kind of obvious that our group was not from New Orleans, so the church members and the priest took it upon themselves to make us feel as welcome as possible.
We sat down in our pews and talked to the parishioners around us. When I looked around the church I figured that the closest image I could come up with to describe the style of the church would be a mix of a Roman Catholic cathedral and an African jungle. The floors were made of white marble, while the altar and the chairs the priest and altar serves sit on were wooden and had African images carved into them. To the left of the altar was a beautiful baptismal fountain, and to the right of altar were pews reserved for the awe-inspiring gospel choir.
Mass began with a warm welcome from the announcer to everyone in the parish, but he made a special shout out to "our visiting neighbors from Seattle". As the announcer kept talking, his words soon turned into song and suddenly I could hear the piano and drums playing beside the gospel choir. The priest and altar servers walked down the aisle while the church was still in song; that was when I knew that this church had something special about it. The altar servers wore white robes with a green shawl with red and black stripes on it, and the priest's entire outfit was green with the red and black stripes. Everything from the colorful attire to the portrait of an African Jesus on the wall added to the vibrant atmosphere of the church.
We sang most of the prayers during mass as opposed to just reciting them. There is something about singing that makes you feel more connected with God and the people around you. I, for one, was definitely empowered by all the singing we did during mass. Back home, whenever the whole church was required to sing a hymn I always took that as my cue to mouth the words of the song so no one, not even God, could hear the atrocity of my singing voice. But things were different at this church. I did not feel vulnerable or to embarrassed sing. There is something about the unity and spirit of the church that gave me the ability to step out of my comfort zone. I felt more welcome at this church than I ever had at my own parish. We all felt so comfortable and at home at this church.
The best part of mass definitely had to be the gospel choir. Every member of the choir sang with such soul and passion that it made it so easy for people in the pews to want to join in song. The choir director was exceptionally amazing; with an extraordinary voice and an unparall energy, I could not tell if that was really the choir director or Jennifer Hudson. Although we sang most of the prayers during mass, singing the Our Father was the most unifying experience. Holding hands, swaying side to side as we sang the prayer made me feel so connected with everyone in the room and with God in a way that I did not know was possible.
The homily was great and I could clearly understand every word that the priest was saying. Usually people get lost during the homily but there was not a single person in the room that did not feel the words coming out of the priest's mouth going straight into their heart. The priest was Caucasian but he had no problem communicating with the predominantly African American parish. The homily focused on the Good Samaritan story and how it is important to help not just the people who are in need but the people whom you dislike; the people that annoy you or make you feel frustrated. By the end of the homily I realized that you cannot just focus on exclusively on helping the poor or sick, being a true Christian means lending a hand to those who have hurt you as well.
After mass we ran into a lady that knew the family of one of the girls I cheer with. This just goes to show how small the world really is and how connected we are. When we left the church we walked around the city for a little bit before eating lunch. We visited Loyola University of New Orleans, as well as Tulane University. Both campuses were extremely gorgeous, and I might consider on giving Tulane a last minute spot on my college list.
When got back to camp we had our last dinner followed by a group prayer and reflection. At the reflection we went around the room recollecting our favorite moments on the trip. Some memories were comical, while others were a bit more sentimental. It was a beautiful way to end our last night together. Afterwards, three other volunteers and I went outside and talked in a circle with food and games. Not only have I made some incredible memories on this trip, but I have made some great friends as well.
I really do not want to leave. I honestly wish I could stay here just a little bit longer. This has been one of the best experiences of my life and I will never forget my week in New Orleans.
