In many ways it feels as though the storm that hit on Saturday afternoon was Hurricane Irene’s second cousin. Many churches across the diocese are still without power – and God knows how many members of congregations are trying to cope with no heat, water – and vague promises from utility companies when power will be restored.

There are indeed poor starving children in Africa. But in Cape Town, South Africa, that is not what you see. At least not at first. The beauty of the landscape – with mountains rising up out of the sea, and the European-like metropolis in between, draws all your attention and takes your breath away. This certainly was the point of the architects of apartheid who, in the early 1960s, forcibly removed entire black and “colored” neighborhoods and set them up in townships, located just outside the urban sight lines.

We prayed together. Which is not so unusual for a Sunday morning, when we gather to pray in our churches, using texts and traditions that many of us know by heart.

But on a recent Sunday afternoon in our Cathedral – in a service to honor the tenth anniversary of 9/11, people from the three Abrahamic faiths prayed together. Partly because of the day, partly because of the relationships of the people involved, we were able to move beyond interfaith protocol to a depth of prayer. We prayed together.

Hurricane Irene blew through the Northeast leaving a wake of destruction that individuals, families and officials are still trying to assess. In our diocese, from what we have learned so far, two churches have been significantly affected. St. Andrew’s in Newark had a tree limb pierce the roof of the sanctuary. The Church Insurance Company and Jim Caputo, our property manager, have been on the scene and have reported that no structural damage has occurred. On Sunday afternoon, St. Stephen’s, Millburn had a veritable river on the street in front of the church.

The stock market is in free fall. The economy is a mess. The only certainty that public officials are able to muster is the insistence that it all is someone else's fault -- which are hollow accusations at best, and display verbal violence at worst.

And what has been stirred up is a cauldron of fear -- with scarcity as its main ingredient. And the scarcity is real. Unemployment is up, a credit rating is down. Assets are shrinking, along with collective confidence. With the growing fear, there is a tendency to hoard -- or to hide.

We stayed at "Almost Heaven," a rather Spartan building located about ten miles outside of Franklin, in northeast West Virginia. It was adequate enough for the 32 of us who stayed there -- a large bunk room for the men and another one for the women. A dining area in between, adjacent to a well equipped kitchen. While the accommodations themselves didn’t call forth heavenly comparisons, the surrounding landscape certainly did. As soon as we walked outside we could fairly hear John Denver's voice extolling the glories of West Virginia.

I rejoice with our New York neighbors on the passage of a state law that will make it legal for gay and lesbian couples to marry. I ache for gay and lesbian couples in New Jersey, which came very close two years ago to passing similar legislation. By a close vote New Jersey chose to stick with civil unions -- which is a separate but unequal provision if there ever was one.

Easter is the liturgical season set aside for the purpose of celebrating new life in the risen Christ. For centuries, “Alleluia” has been the verbal response to this extraordinary gift. The Easter season ends on Pentecost Sunday, June 12; but the “Alleluias” continue, because new life continues to be offered.

Most all of us have spent the better part of the past ten years trying to re-wire our psychic and spiritual GPS systems after they were blown apart on September 11, 2001. The mix of shock, fear, anger -- and grief, has had a hammerlock on our national psyche for nearly a decade.

April 12 marked the 150th anniversary of the start of the Civil War. On one level it was a conflict over sharp regional differences. On a deeper level it was a bitter four year battle for the national soul. Differences between the Northern and Southern culture and economies could be honored -- and even worked through; but differences would not be tolerated if it meant that an economic engine was powered by slavery.