During a trip to New Orleans in 2008, I heard lots of stories about Christian relief workers who descended on the city in the wake of Katrina. The "church ladies" came by bus, by plane, by car—into the most dangerous and flooded areas of the city, dispensing food and supplies. Some stayed for as long as a year.

The outpouring of goodwill made for great headlines: "With FEMA floundering, 'church ladies' take relief matters into their own hands." From carpentry to social work, religious groups were largely responsible for the immediate relief efforts in the city.

With a disaster like the Deepwater Horizon oil spill, though, the media has been largely silent on religious relief efforts. Save for one blip on the radar—BP donated $1 million to Catholic Charities in conjunction with Second Harvest Food Bank to provide food and counseling to families impacted by the spill. It seems that the oil spill disaster, which has now lasted well over 40 days and 40 nights, isn't prompting the same response.

Where are the church ladies?

Some would say Katrina was clearly an "act of God," not the result of a brazenly risk-taking corporation tapping into natural resources for financial gain.  Instead of an outpouring of charity, a "serves them right" attitude towards BP is common among Americans.  So instead of church ladies in food trucks, the religious response is that of an "arm's-length prophet": I told you so.

This column by Christian minister Rev. Chuck Freeman seems typical of coverage of the religious angle. Freeman argues, "Part of me wants the results of the oil spill to be so utterly devastating to fish, fowl, flora, and finances that it puts us on a new path…perhaps in the long haul, this is our only hope of being 'brought back to the Lord.'"

The situation in the gulf is more complex than this hands-off approach suggests. A fisherman was quoted in Vanity Fair saying, "Hurricanes we know how to handle—buckle down for a few days and then deal with the damage. But this … Every day is a guess." Cleanup efforts for Katrina were the result of carefully laid plans. Many churches in the surrounding areas have relief buses loaded and ready during hurricane season, prepared to feed victims in the wake of a disaster. On the other hand, getting on the ground to help wildlife in the gulf requires at least a 4-hour HazMat training course from OSHA.

In this response, Episcopal Rev. Fletcher Harper argues that the silence in itself has meaning.  Still, the end of his column sounds more defeatist than hopeful: "Nothing can undo the suffering that this oil spill is creating." Harper suggests that policy changes are the best way to respond to the spill.

Is the religious community–the same folks who fearlessly canoed into the flooded streets of New Orleans—feeling helpless in the face of this new disaster? Can they do nothing to save the region's fishing industry, small family businesses and wildlife impacted by this disaster? That seems doubtful.

Religion Dispatches offers a story of a priest in New Orleans who met with BP officials last month. He suggested using his church as a training center for cleanup volunteers. The plan fell apart, and BP missed out on a lot of volunteer labor.  I suspect there are a few more fighting church ladies are out there. The mainstream media should find them; their gumption would still make for a great headline.

Andrea Tabor graduated from USC Annenberg in December 2008 with an M.A. in Broadcast Journalism. She continues to write for Trans/Missions and works full-time as a content manager for Internet Brands, where she oversees the publication of thousands of online articles each month across multiple websites.