From Ireland to St. James, and Now He's Our Man in Haiti

  By Robert R. Schwarz

Waiting to board for Port au Prince are (from left)
Kathy McGourty, Christine Westerkamp,
Lucas Sykes, Kim Lamberty (Director of Just Haiti project),
Niall McShane.

         Niall McShane and five other St. James members are lighting a candle in the darkness of Haiti. This 48-year-old native Irishman and his group returned in early January with a success story about, well, it's all about coffee.

         The group's mission was to make friends with a few hundred coffee growers in a remote region of Haiti , giving them moral and spiritual support in securing fair prices for their crop of coffee beans. For McShane, a member of his church's Peace and Justice committee, the mission was a success and a soul-changing experience .

        Speaking impassionedly in an interview about his week trek to this Caribbean island, McShane began by quoting a coffee grower: "Before this project started we had no hope," the man told him. The words moved McShane to tears.

In the town of Baradères, an all-day drive over mountain roads, McShane and his group met with the coffee grower association, Kafé Devlopman Baradè. In social interactions with the townspeople, the group learned how getting a fair price for their coffee beans has dramatically changed Haitian lives. People in Baradères related how they can now provide health care for their families and put their children through school and to properly feed and clothe them. But McShane emphasized that his group's efforts went "way beyond charity." He explained: "Charity can breed dependency, and this project is all about sustainability. It's allowing these people to live in poverty with dignity. In the eyes of God, they have as much dignity as you or I or Bill Gates."

         As we talked in his downtown Arlington Heights condo, the blue-eyed McShane became increasingly animated as he looked at his laptop PC at some of the several hundred images he captured on the trip. "The world defines Haiti and the Haitian people by their poverty but we're all so much more than our circumstances, so much more than our possessions," he intoned with an Irish brogue that recalled to mind some college professor with a baritone voice using disciplined diction. "We're so much more than where we live and what we do for a living." To flesh out his point, McShane, who is employed by a Chicago company as a computer software engineer, related a scene he saw at the Miami airport security walk-through: The scanner detected a wristwatch on a man. "The man didn't say, ' Oh, my watch !' He said, ' Oh, Rolex ! ' "

Why Are So Many Haitians Poor ?

          Having grown up in small Irish country town blighted with thirty per cent unemployment, Niall is no stranger to the poor. I asked for his opinion about the causes of widespread Haitian poverty. I mentioned past media reports about the country's cult of voodoo and other religious superstitions being blamed for keeping Haiti poor. "That's b--- s---," he said firmly. "We [ his group ] discussed this topic extensively and concluded that the Haitian poverty is caused by the hundreds of years of exploitation, such as the massive reparations inflicted by France when Haiti won its independence from that country in 1804. It was not paid off until the 1950s. "Since then, opined McShane, Haiti has been used as a pawn by great powers and that it has been exploited (such as the deforestation of its mahogany trees) by corporate and political interests, including those of the United States. "For things to change in Haiti, there has to be a change in the attitudes in countries like the United States so that they are working for the bests interests of the people," he said.

   Haitian poverty also has domestic causes, McShane admitted. According to sources cited by Wikipedia.Org, Haiti has suffered 32 government coups in its 200-year history and has consistently ranked among the most corrupt countries in the world, where seven out of ten Haitians live on less than $2 a day. And the country has yet to recover from the devastating earthquake of Jan. 12 , 2010 in which a reported 220,000 Haitians died, leaving in this wake another high death toll from diseases such as cholera. United States aid organizations have donated more than $2 billion to Haiti.

        We talked about the Catholic church in Haiti. "From what I can see, the Catholic church is one of society's pillars there," McShane said. "Everything that we saw was being driven by the Catholic church…The pastors in parishes in Haiti are truly the leaders of their communities. They're not only maintaining their parishes and schools but also building the economy of their parishes and their regions. "

      The group, consisting of Pierre and Nerlande Herard, Lucas Sykes, Christine Westerkamp, and Kathy Mc Gourty [ see her website Exodus Trekker story of Oct. 14 2011], who started St. James' Peace and Justice committee and has been an active supporter of Fair Trade Coffee since 2009, gathered every evening after dinner to reflect on the day's events, especially how God had been involved. "We asked God," McShane said, "where did we see You in the people we met? But to be honest, I think it's going to take months to fully process our experience. This was an emersion in a culture so different from our own."

Niall McShane and coffee growers pause a discussion for the camera.

        The group often was up early each day, thanks to the 4:30 a.m. wakeup call of roosters. The six traveled to other villages, including the city Les Cayes, where they met the diocese bishop, Msgr. Chibly Langlois, president of the Haitian Council of Bishops. A group member counted 23 hours that they drove their vehicle through mountainous terrain, often on dirt roads. "It's not for the faint-hearted," mused McShane, who keeps trim by cycling and working out at the Arlington Heights Wellness Center. "I don't know when, but I'm going back, to help build a relationship with another village."

The president of the coffee growers association and
and the machine for processing washed coffee.

McShane moans a bit to help start a generator.

           Meanwhile, the village of Baradères will this year ship 10, 000 pounds of coffee beans ; a portion will go to the Baltimore Coffee and Tea company, which will roast the beans and then package them; another portion will be sent to church communities like St. James where, often along with Fair Trade chocolate bars, will be sold to parishioners; and a third portion will be sold through the website "JustHaiti.org." The latter is a volunteer, multi-service tax-exempt organization, which claims it helped the coffee growers' association in 2009 sell its coffee for more than three times the fair trade price.

         "It's an unbelievable business model," McShane said, now taking his eyes off the laptop images of his trek. "No middle man. All of the profit goes back to Baradères."

Coming of Age in Hectic Times

     Niall's childhood until age 11 was spent in the heavily Catholic-populated Northern Ireland town of Strabane where his father taught grade school for children with learning disabilities. His mother also taught grade school but later became a stay-at-home mom. A brother, Paul, died at age 22, and a sister, Bairbre—she prefers the Irish spelling for Barbara—is a 46-year-old pastoral resources worker today in an Irish archdiocese. A step-sister, Eithne, is a company human resources employee in England.

       At age seven, Niall's mother died, leaving her husband to care for the three children in the early 70s, an era Niall described as a "pretty hectic time in Northern Ireland." The earlier Civil Rights unrest in that country had led to the British government sending troops into the country." Because of all this, my dad chose to send my brother and I to a boarding school run by Vincentian priests," Niall recalled. "They were pretty strict and believed in corporal punishment and the good ole fashioned stuff." He is "quite sure" that whacking he got once or twice was quite was deserved.

     Those early boarding school years were tough for Niall who, with his brother, could come home for a weekend only once a month. Separation from family still bothers him today. "Loneliness is something that affects me a lot . Companionship is very important to me."

      After boarding school, Niall graduated from the University of London, where he majored in physics and astronomy. Marriage to an Irish lass followed. While working in Germany, daughter Jenie, was born. Now 23, she is earning a master's degree in ergonomics at Indiana University. She wears a black belt in the martial arts.

      After working for the Motorola company in Ireland and then as a Motorola liaison for their Arlington Heights plant, the McShanes immigrated to America in 1995, where Niall worked as a software engineering manager until November of 2009. He is now employed by Cleversafe, Inc. in Chicago.

When asked what his life's challenges have been, Niall mentioned the unfortunate collapse of his marriage, currently being annulled by the Catholic church. "Out of that came a lot of depression, a lot of anger," he admitted. "I was feeling pretty broken. But I think that's mostly in the past." Looking out his third floor window at the train station across the street, he recalled how he surmounted this dark period with faith, with reading Psalms about how God lifts up the broken, and with the love and support of family (he went to Ireland for a month in the midst of his turmoil) and friends like the faith-group men with whom he meets from 6 to 7:30 a.m. on Saturday mornings in the St. James basement.

       Niall doesn't spend a lot time in recreation; when he does, it's working out at the local gym, reading a variety of books—his current one is about particle physics—and cooking his own dinner. (My wife and I found his Irish soda bread delicious.)

In sizing up his goals, Niall quotes popular Catholic lecturer and author Matthew Kelly: "Be the best version of yourself." To Niall, this means being a good father, employee, and member of the community. "There are times," he reflects, "when I feel I can do a whole lot better, but also times when I feel I am using the gifts God gave me. 

Home sweet home - with many reflections
 for Niall after an arduous trip.

       As for what pumps Mr. McShane's heart so hard for peace and justice issues, such as those he addressed in Haiti, it might be the memory of his father's decades of service with the St. Vincent de Paul Society in Ireland, an organization to which Niall belongs at St. James. But the spark, Niall says, came from a homily about "respect for life" he heard delivered in 2008 or 2009 by former St. James priest, Fr. Jim Hearne. "He gave a a phenomenal homily in which he broadened the whole concept of respect for life," Niall said. "It went beyond the issue of abortion and into respect for all life. It really struck a chord with me and tapped into something I had felt for a very long time."

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rrschwarz7@wowway.com

© 2012 Robert R. Schwarz

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Grace Abounds in Nun's Story Of Her Rape and Motherhood

By Robert R. Schwarz

                

      You've see  her on the corner  of Northwest Highway and  Arlington Heights Road holding up the sign " Bring Our Troops Home"  and also as that  woman beaming with smiles while giving the mass  host at St. James church .  And you might have seen  her  in her  Certified Nursing Assistant  uniform  at a nearby nursing home where she's been giving her best for  12 years to dementia  residents. But you probably haven't heard her  bitter-sweet life story as an exodus trekker.

          It began for Sr.  Christine Baty,  a 60-year-old  nun of the Sisters of the Living Word order  in Arlington Heights, Illinois,  at  age five when a bully who  in her Evanston apartment building hit her severely on the head with a spade.  The trauma  required several  brain surgeries and led to  petit mal seizures  ( a type of epilepsy) . At 20 ,  her hands became arthritic, which would later  cut short her love of  piano playing.  Then there was the  non-Hodgkin's lymphoma. (Today she is a three-year survivor of it)

            But the  severest challenge  hit her on what she expected to be an innocent prom date . Sr. Christine and her teenage companion   had just left the dance at Mt. Prospect High School and were on their way to another prom affair.  He parked the car and raped  Sr. Christine. 

            She didn't tell  police nor her  family. "Nobody in those years ever pressed charges about things like that,"  Sr. Christine said during her interview with this reporter. "You know,  back then it was always the girl's fault. "  Later, following a priest's direction, she forgave her attacker.  

 Shorty after she had enrolled in bookkeeping classes ( her father was a CPA and her mother a file clerk ),  Sr. Christine, 18 years old ,   discovered she was pregnant. She considered an abortion. "My mother said, ' if you want,  we'll  have it done. ' Yeah,  I said to myself, that would be the easy way out. But in the end I could not end the life now in me.  And  I was not in any position to be a mom. "

Sr. Christine  moved into a home for unwed mothers, managed by the Salvation Army. There baby  Michael was born in February, 1970 and given up for adoption.

Though up to now in our  interview ,  this nun had spoken openly about traumas most humans would never want to mention—unless , like Sr. Christine, it could  somehow be told for the common  good.  Now she took off her dark-rimmed glasses, paused,   and lowered her head.

            "The last time I saw my child he was five days old. What was really hard was when the lady from Catholic  Charities came to pick him up to take him  to his adoptive parents. When she walked out with my  baby in her arms, she passed  my father coming through the door. My father never realized that was his grandson whom he had brushed by that day. I never told him. I guess that as painful as it was for me , it would have been for him."

A  Dark  Period

            Sr. Christine described the next two years  as her " dark period."  "I had always wanted  to be two things: a nurse and a nun. I thought now that my chances of being a nun were thin.  I went into a spiritual decline, saying to myself, God couldn't possibly want me—I'm not pure enough."  A life of sex, drugs, a bit of marijuana, and rock'n'roll now began.  

            She married a guitar player she had met in a Chicago bar. They moved to California for a year then returned to Chicago. Her husband , she said, drank a lot,  smoked  pot, and used  LSD. "I knew I had made a terrible mistake."   She bore his  child and named it Jennifer;  but  when her husband became physically abusive to Sr. Christine and, fearing  he might also harm Jennifer, she  left him three weeks later and moved in with her parents.

            Sr. Christine would later write this on the Sisters of the Living Word webpage: "Life as a single mom was far from easy. I worked several jobs trying to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table. Several times I had to rely on public assistance programs to make ends meet. During this time , beginning in 1974, I began a process of returning to the church.  In 1982, during a time of retreat, I experienced very strong desire to make a gift of my entire life to God. For the next 10 years I became increasingly involved in parish ministry, working with faith-sharing groups, scripture study groups , visiting the sick and homebound, and taking  on liturgical roles. My prayer life became central to my everyday living , and perhaps because of this, my desire to devote my life to God deepened….I began to wonder if religious life might still be possible for me. Over the next two years I investigated many communities , eventually becoming drawn to the Sisters of the Living Word.

"I look back and see God's handiwork in just about everything. Every time we were getting down to the bottom of the barrel-- how to pay rent, buy food-- something good happened. I learned things about people, relationships."

The Clouds Lift

            Jennifer, now 38, is  a financial analyst in Naperville. "I'm so proud of her,"  Sr. Christine said. She is so bright and has wonderful instincts for giving back. "  A few years ago Jennifer  and some  friends formed a not-for-profit agency where unemployed people could come and take what clothes they needed for job interviews.

            Seven years ago at St. James  with Fr. Bill Zavaski presiding,  Sr. Christine took her final  vows:  poverty, chastity, and obedience." I get my spiritual energy here at St. James, " she said. "This parish has more life in it than any other parish  I've been in."   Nowadays her goals are simple: "To keep working as long as I can. I love what I do."   She also has her eye on opposing  human trafficking , where women from Third World countries  who have been deceptively persuaded to  immigrate to America   are then coerced into prostitution or, in some cases, forced to work as virtual slaves.

            "Chris is a very dedicated health care professional, " said Sr. Barbara Mass, who has know her fellow nun for 20 years.   "It's very  obvious that her difficult  life  has molded her with compassion."

            Sr. Christine does,  however,  make room for fun and recreation. " I love to fish," she said exuberantly. " Give me a boat, tackle box and six-pack of beer—and just let me go."  ( She goes after those big Muskies in Northern Wisconsin. )   She admits to being a bookworm—mysteries by Lindsey Davis,  whose protagonist is a detective living in ancient Roman times. And now and then she and the two nuns with whom she shares an apartment  enjoy  what they jokingly label their "holy hour" of watching  television's  crime program "N.C.I.S."          

This nun  is made sad by the devaluing of human life as seen in the  Sudan famine, and made happy by her faith, prayer, work , and her daughter.  

Her hazel  eyes flinched  once or twice when talking about the  baby she gave up for adoption decades ago and whom  she has not seen since.  She had named him Michael David but his adoptive  parents switched it to  David Michael.  Much later in life, Michael began searching for his birth parents,  eventually locating  his birth mother.  Since then, Sr. Christine and David Michael have exchanged emails and begun planning to meet . David today is a 41-year-old mechanical engineer living in Barrington . He has sent Sr. Christine  Face Book-posted  photographs of himself . "The physical resemblance between him and me is unbelievable.  "

 Sr. Christine says the two  are building a relationship, yet is quick to add, " But there's nothing inside me that identifies me as being his mother. He is their child."

Then she said something that seem to absolutely still the air around  us for a long moment. "I have come to understand that as horrible as it was about my baby coming into being , I was the channel of grace  for that other couple who could not have children of their own."

            At the end of our  interview, Sr. Christine was asked  what final meaning she sees in her life.  Her words came easy, without hesitation: "I learned that in the worst part of my life God was there  with me and has never left me. Even in  the  car that night—God was with me . God doesn't make things like that happen,  but sometimes God allows things like that to happen –because the ultimate gifts that come from things like that are worth it. I would today not change anything in my life, including the bad things."

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                                                                                                  rrschwarz7@wowway.com

© 2011  Robert R. Schwarz

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A Faith Affirmed by a Lifetime of Holy Music

          By Robert R. Schwarz        
         He makes his living conducting traditional Catholic choral hymns and also loves the blues of Ella Fitzgerald; he plays the piano at masses yet fondly recalls tickling the ivories with "Fly Me to the Moon" in the presence of Neil Armstrong; and few things stir the heart of this Doctor of Music than listening to his young pupils sing about angels.

             Once a l5-year-old prodigy who directed the music activities of a large Catholic parish in the Illinois suburb of Arlington Heights, Scott Arkenberg, returned two years at age 55 to his religious alma mater of St. James after a long and distinguished career in music.

                  Today he is obviously delighted in his reprised role as St. James' music director. You see it in eyes that smile and hear it in his reassuring manner of speech to the shy and to the novice. His words engage and are free of artistic temperament, so noticed by this reporter and by colleague Katie Blomquist, a St. James cantor who has worked with Scott for almost three years. "He has a good heart," she said, "and is very committed to making sure the congregation understands the message of the music."

                     And from colleague, 50-year-old John Towner, whose guitar has enriched the St. James' masses and other musical events for 25 years, you will hear that what's impressive about Scott is his ability to stay positive when there can be negative issues about directing the church's music ministry. He quoted Scott, "Let's not get mired down in things. Compared to other music directors with whom Towner has worked professionally, Scott is "wonderful and personable, goes out of his way to meet people," he said.

                   Watching Scott—he'll likely be dressed in something black--maneuver singer and musicians at a mass, you'll notice the zest this music man with the full head of gray hair has for his work. Standing six-feet-two in front of a rehearsing choir, arms uplifted with high energy, you see also see a teacher who wants the bar set high for his people...

                 His passion for higher education was similar, and it ignited during a six-month stay at Cambridge University in England. There he studied Shakespeare and English literature. He was a high school senior at the time and had already directed the music for seven musicals at St. James in which his pastor had a role. His passion for music went dormant for the next two years while he was as pre-med student at the University of Illinois at Champagne-Urbana. This academic decision, he said, "came as a shock and chagrin to everyone at St. James." But St. James parishioner Terri Schott (she had started the bereavement program at the local Northwest Community hospital), with prayers and notes, kept coaxing Scott to follow his true love.

                  Scott listened to Terri, dropped out of pre-med school, and enrolled at De Paul University, where he got a B.A. in music in l987. Now committed to a vision which today he considers was a life milestone, he then began to work full time as music director at St. Clements church in Chicago. Going through undergraduate school had taken him ten years.

         He was now off to the University of Southern California at Los Angeles, where he graduated with a M.A. in choral music and afterwards a Doctor of Musical Arts degree.

How the Passion Was Born

                  Scott's heart for music, he relates, began with the standup piano his mother bought him when he was in the third grade. "She had to work hard pay for that piano," he said. "My parents loved music. There always was some kind of music around the house." Scott's maternal grandmother played for silent movies in Chicago theaters, her favorite piece being the "Blackhawk Waltz. "His grandmother and her husband were both Chicago furriers. According to Scott, they and Fr. Bill, the current St. James pastor, impacted his life more than anyone else. His grandparents, gave him the "ability to talk with people." Fr. Zavaski, along with other parishioners, took Scott under their wings when he became music director at age 15. "Fr. Bill steered me in the right direction of what works and what doesn't work," Scott recalled. "His mentoring gave me an appreciation for the liturgy and for what was holy in music."

                    Scott graduated from St. James in l968. "I never thought I would go into church music back then. "He credits the school sisters of St. Francis for influencing him to become serious about what could be holy about music.

                     Scott has a sister in Terra Haute, Indiana, Kim, 55, and a brother, Todd, a former vice president at United Airlines, who lives in Arlington Heights and who is now busy writing a second novel. There was a sister, Tamra, who died at age three days.

                      Nowadays, Scott's challenge is to find quality time for his work and to get the youth more involved in one of the church's more than two dozen ministries. "It's hard to get the boys involved in music, and that frustrates me." He frowned when mentioning that music is one of the first things to be cut from a school budget. "Music is what touches the soul," he added.

           When he does relax, it's often in his bachelor Chicago apartment in the two-flat he owns in the Avondale-Logan Square neighborhood. He likes to play jazz standards on that same piano his mother bought him decades ago , listen to CDs of Ella Fitzgerald, cook salmon the way his mother did, read a non-fiction book like Devil in the White City, and watch the History Channel on television. He also enjoys swimming at the University Club in the Loop and exchanging stories during visits with friends. Mean people make him sad and beautiful days make him happy.

             Scott recalled two particular sad days: One was soon after the 9-11 tragedy; his parents had died four weeks apart, his father died emphysema and cancer and his mother from a fungus she contacted on a cruise to Puerto Rico which Scott and his brother had encouraged her to take as a respite from caring for her husband. Other unforgettable sadness came after his parents' death. He had moved two articles from his childhood home into his apartment: the dinning room table around which the family had so often gathered and that piano which his mother had bought for him. Scott said that when this two pieces arrived he lay on the couch and sobbed.

             When asked about his spirituality, words did not come easy for him. "Bob," he said, "you're pulling things out of me that I've really never spoken about." He paused for a long moment, then said, "It's through my music that I have my faith affirmed. Music envelopes my whole body, my whole senses—rather than if I just spoke it. I struggle to pray every day and yet at the same time I know that when I do pray every day, the world is just better."

          He says he sees "the heart of Jesus " in the kindergarten and first and second grade children he teaches. "They love to sing about Jesus," he said with solemnity. "When they sing 'All Night, All Day', they just automatically sit taller, lift their eyes and head skyward, and fold their hands. It is the most beautiful thing to see. Their souls are in another place."

All night, all day

Angels watching over me, my Lord

All night, all day

Angels watching over me !

rrschwarz7@wowway.com

© 2011 Robert R. Schwarz

Note: Mr. Arkenberg will be conducting his 10th

Anniversary Holiday Pops Concert on Dec 10th at 8 p.m.

at St. Michael's church in Old Town, Chicago.

It will feature 100 singers and a 47-piece orchestra.

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Her 11th Commandment: "I Shall Not Be a Bystander"

                                                                       By Robert R. Schwarz

                                                                      

             If the rains don’t come,  Mrs. Kathy McGourty  will  be on a jet in December to plant peace and justice among  friends  in the Haitian hinterlands. When she returns,  this 52-year-old mother of four adult children will resume leading mission trips and retreats for junior high students,  comforting families of  incarcerated immigrants,  and promoting Fair Trade coffee and chocolate as a member of the Peace and Justice committee  she started  for the St.  James Catholic church of Arlington Heights, Illinois.

            To anyone who has known Mrs. McGourty  during her 17 years in the 4,000-family member parish,  it's no surprise that  she follows an 11^th  Commandment  she  proclaims as   "I shall not be a bystander."  She intoned this with gravity and, for my benefit,  some humor for our morning  interview in her suburban  home.  When asked  about her spiritual philosophy, a twinkle of assuredness  in Mrs. McGourty's hazel eyes came with her reply:  "It's this:  On earth as it is in heaven."   Then she added, "It's our responsibility  to make it  on earth as it is in heaven."

            "I have a passion for justice for the youth," she said, referring to her work as the associate director of Youth Ministry at St. Isidore  parish in Bloomingdale.  "They are the first to speak out when  adult  behavior  doesn't make sense.  They are first to question the justice of something.  They have a heart for justice and recognize the inconsistencies in what faith says and humans do. I love to validate them by asking  'so, what can you do about that ?'  

            She believes that in the church as a whole,  youth are marginalized, not recognized for what they can contribute today, rather than in the future.  "I always tell the kids, 'don't let someone tell you that you are the future of the church because today you are the church. '   Churches which  invite teenagers to plenary functions but then  don't  actually engage them in ministries upsets Mrs. McGourty.  She is also bothered by a  church which neglects to provide  age-appropriate learning methods for  its youth.

            Equally outspoken about what her own parish needs, Mrs. McGourty  asserted  "there is a need in our parish for people to be  educated more  on Catholic social teaching and to welcome the immigrant as well as protect the life of the unborn." Catholics are also called, she added, to see that their purchases of consumer goods are made on a moral basis too. "What we purchase affects the wellbeing of third world countries."

            Mrs.  McGourty regularly goes to the  Broadview detention center in Chicago where, along with other social justice advocates from the metropolitan area, she prays the Rosary  for the detainees arrested for entering America without required documentation.  (She frowns at the words "illegal   aliens.")  The group, including families of the detainees, stands outside  reciting the Rosary while  their loved ones, with wrists handcuffed to their waists and ankles chained, are marched  out,  loaded on buses, taken to  O'Hare International Airport  and then  flown to border towns in Mexico and  Central America countries.  Mrs. McGourty  also works part time as a consultant at the Chicago Archdiocesan office  for immigrant affairs .

            She has a missionary's eye on coffee and chocolate, which  motivated her to establish at St. James a semi-annual  Fair Trade event  to support third world producers of these two products. Committed to a philosophy of "helping people to help themselves, "she will this winter  make her first  trip to a remote  Haitian  town and  encourage  its people to continue growing coffee beans and to  build a  bean roasting plant. Heavy rains that make the dirt access roads un-drivable  has twice forced the St. James volunteer  group to cancel its journey there.

            "Kathy is totally committed to peace and justice and it's woven into her personality and everything she does," said Bob Bruett,  current chairman of the church's Peace & Social Justice committee. "I really look to her for guidance," he told this reporter. "She's inspiring and  usually very serious,  but she does laugh a lot."

            Asked to explain the genesis of her passion or  apostolate, Mrs. McGourty  spoke freely: "I think it’s in our family blood. My parents were always helping other people." While serving in the U.S. Army in South  Korea, her father –he had attended a seminary for nine years before deciding his call was elsewhere—started an orphanage there and later in life helped Korean and Vietnamese immigrant families.

Struggle, Then Conflict

"My  dad's courage to confront people inspired me to challenge hypocrisy in the church," she continued.  "But my passion really was lit when I heard the author  Dr. Megan McKenna speak at St. James,  telling us that whenever there is a deep disturbance in your heart, God is about to enter. This was a month after Nine-Eleven. She said that if you believe in Christ, you cannot believe in revenge or a war as a response.    says, then why are so many of us not following  that ?'  And I felt like I didn't have a place in this church."  She recalled a Sunday liturgy about  Solomon's  discourse on  the "vanity of vanities" , while that same week the church bulletin ran a full page promotion  of  a tour of upscale homes in Arlington Heights. Mrs. McGourty saw this as one of several "ironies" in her church.            

            "I had anger bubbling up [over this] ," Mrs. McGourty  wrote in a "witness" memoir  entitled "Father's Loving Care."  "I could no longer attend mass. I was not sure this was the community I wanted to be in anymore. I gave up mass. I gave up journaling. I gave up prayer time."

            But then she attended a reconciliation service  during  her church's  "Christ Renews His Parish" retreat, and although she did not make a confession that day, she was stirred by a Bible verse (Isaiah 6:5-7 ) to make a mental confession. Soon afterwards, she wrote this:

             "I knew then how God could look at the same community, my community, and see beauty and hope, not hypocrisy and flaws. I had new eyes now, filled with God’s love. I knew now of the love that God has for each one of us and I understood how Jesus could die on  that cross… The walls came tumbling down. My parish looked beautiful again."

Her memoir  concluded with: "I could forgive them now, but first I need to ask you, my parish community, to forgive me. Please forgive me for giving in to hurt and anger. Please forgive me for not loving each of you as God loves you."   

            She wrote to the St. James pastor, Fr. Bill Zavaski, telling him , " I need to find people who think like me. Is there a peace and justice committee in the church? "  Fr. Bill wrote back, "No. Would you like to start one."

            To hone her professional skills, Mrs. McGourty  went back to school—she had graduated Cum Laude in 1981 from Loras College with a BA in classical studies—to  study ethics and  spirituality at the Catholic Theological Union in Chicago.  Last May, after four years of balancing class work with her role as homemaker and church volunteer,  she was  handed her  master's degree diploma.    

            "She's a powerhouse of energy for social justice," said friend and colleague  Niall McShane.  "She has a tremendous understanding of complex global issues and how they impact the poorest and most vulnerable people in the world. "  McShane, who is to  accompany her and others  to Haiti, added, "She gives meaning to  Jesus' command that we should love our  neighbor as ourselves."

            Nowadays, when her 60-hour work week allows it, she gets a lot of happiness from quality time with her family. She would also welcome a car trip to one of those 12 states the family has yet to visit, or a return vacation to Ireland and Italy.  Little pleasures come to her in Italian  and Chinese food—the name  of her favorite meal is  "delivered"— and movies like "The Help",  or a book like To Heal a Fractured World, or, for laughs,  television's  "Modern  Family."

            Mrs. McGourty  showed tears while musing on how painful events in her life have given her compassion for marginalized people; she mentioned  one important lesson: "God does not hang on to the past."  But the milestone, she said, was "meeting my husband."

            Her favorite quote comes from the president of Xavier University, said  during her daughter's freshman welcoming ceremony last year: "Justice is what happens when prayer gets up off its knees and goes out to find  its place in the world."

            And  what would Mrs. McGourty like people to say at her funeral?  Once more  her eyes twinkled:  "I do enjoy a good party and I've been known to throw a number of them in my home.  So,  I hope they say, 'Kathy had a role in bringing heaven's party  on earth.' "

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                                                                                                  rrschwarz7@wowway.com

                                                                                   2011  Robert R. Schwarz

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