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| One of the breathtaking views this year at Sugarcreek. Photo by Mary Farrell |
The 2011 Midwest Catholic gathering, “Sugarcreek” was held September 16-18 at the Sugarcreek Retreat center in rural northeast Iowa. The annual gathering was host to about 150 participants representing 28 communities. This year’s gathering was hosted by Mustard Seed Catholic Worker Farm, Ames, Iowa.
The weekend included several workshops, a talent show, and a closing mass. This year’s winner of the talent show (and the coveted Football Mary trophy) went to Jorj Arteaga and his drumming mate Stephen Inman (both from the St. Louis Catholic Worker) for Jorj’s rap song, “Honor among Thieves.”
Second place (and the new Football Jesus trophy created by Omaha Catholic Worker Jerry Ebner) went to Winona Catholic Workers.
Sugar Creek, 2012 will be hosted by the St Louis CW community. Dates are not yet set. For further information, contact the St Louis community at 314.621.4052, http://karenhousecw.org/St.LouisCatholicWorkerNews.htm
A collective of Chicago Catholic Worker communities, Su Casa and White Rose, will host the 2012 Midwest Catholic Worker Faith and Resistance Retreat. The focus will be the G-8 and NATO meetings that are scheduled in Chicago in mid May. The theme will be nonviolence. The nature of the witness will be determined later and will consider the plans of the larger protest presence expected in Chicago at the time. Specific dates will be announced later. For more information, contact: White Rose Catholic Worker, 773.856.0315, whiterosecw@gmail.com or Jake Olzen, 847.372.4289, jake.olzen@gmail.com
A slide show of photos taken by Maura Heck may be viewed at the link below. Please credit Mauro if you use any of the photos.
Two slide shows of photos taken by Mary Farrell and Frank Cordaro
Links to YouTube videos taken at Sugarcreek 2011 by Mauro Heck.
Jorj Arteaga performing the winning entry to this year’s talent show. (Videography by Mauro Heck) See the lyrics below the video.
i rap lyrics or really i just prattle
like a mad hatter or little brats that tattle
or 2 rabid raccoons that do battle
that rattle a tooth out of the roof of your mouth
i'll read riddles to leave your brains addled
at a full gallop while i straddle a saddle
on Quetzalcoatl while my mind dissolves
and the world revolves, its all solved
with an evolved consciousness and a conscience
the cosmos are in constant conflict
i've got the causes and consequences
concentrated with convex lenses
in the content of sentences in the context
of some unconscionable shit across the continents
its so Constantine, i flow constantly
like Noam Chomsky on a soap box we
throw bombs, get CEOs on their knees
on their ps and qs, they won't cross the seas
and cause disease and pretend they don't know it
and though i know it i'm just a poor poet-
philosopher versus law officers
that's our mama, sir, get your paws off of her
and off of us, i carved a sarcophagus
for you to lay in with a scarred esophagus
see, men with dead presidents
are dead set on making us dead residents
of a dead planet, goddamnit,
soon as we're born our bomb is planted
oh the horror! what if there's no tomorrow
so drive the sorrow from your heart like cars you borrowed
ya know what? i wanna go throw up
i'm gonna blow up this whole thing from the floor up
we're tore up on life we're that sober
so turn it over, i'll send it like red rover
and drop science besides the long silence
between the beats that teaches virtue in non-violence
with divine guidance and a flaming sword
it's like the sandwich board says, "the day of the Lord
is nigh" so why try to fight the fight, right?
aint i white? might might make right, right?
wrong, so bang the gong
they sang the same song since Genghis Khan
so we slang a stone at Goliath's head
he fell violently dead, we defiantly said:
if it's top-heavy we can pop the levee
and wash out the bottom where it's not steady
from the red roar of the army's horrors
the omnivorous zombie chorus
of donkey, elephant and brontosaurus
and all your politics start to bore us
we're in the dark of the forest arm in arm with the poorest
and we're more powerful than Charles Norris
so wake the baker up and warn the florist
it's the bread you owe us or we're deader than Moses
and the streets'll run redder than roses
see, we want bread but we want roses
thats the prophets and the law of Moses
we want bread but we want roses
thats the prophets and the law of Moses
we want bread but we want roses
thats the prophets and the law of Moses
we want bread but we want roses
thats the prophets and the law of Moses
and the honor among thieves
is hung from trees, letting our lungs bleed
to shut us up, they'll cut our tongues free
till we forget that food is for the hungry
morsels of porridge, letting the poor forage
more of your storages, leaving the stores tore up
the Lord's Supper, let us light a candle
set the table, set a bad example
it's scandalous, the man can't handle this
ramblin' mystical Saint Jorj evangelist
damn Christian mystic with his fist up
whisper still persisting in the midst of
physicists insisting shit exists if it
turns a profit, they're murdering the prophets
the harvest comes, cause and effect
if your crop's regret, karma does not forget
stop and check- where can you drop bombs,
if there is nothing that is not Brahman?
amen, alleluiah
the glossolalia's calling to ya
it's a revelation of hell and damnation
damn the nations, revel in the elevation
and evolution of revolution
where an execution by electrocution
or lethal injection can't stop the resurrection
of the martyrs of insurrection
we raise the dead like daisies in raised beds
with the sheer force of the phrases we said
it's written in stone and then it's spoken
and the walls of Jericho are split and broken
but if we can't chant down Babylon
then load the trebuchets, we'll catapult the rebels on
and drag down the dragon and his rabble
pull the thread that makes the world unravel
you've sewn the wind, blood-curdling sin
but now the rich'll reap a whirlwind
and there will be music and we will hear God in the silence
and love will abide whether or not they stop the violence
they stomp the violets but will never kill the spring
for as long as we can breathe we will sing
i said there will be music and we will hear God in the silence
and love will abide whether or not they stop the violence
they stomp the violets but will never kill the spring
for as long as we can breathe...
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