Tuesday night, our family attended the Billy Joel concert at the New Orleans Arena along with 10 or 15 thousand of our closest friends. If you like Joel’s music–“Piano Man,” “The Longest Time,” “She’s Always a Woman to Me”–you’ll understand why a couple of oldsters like Margaret and me were there. Not many our age made the trek, though. Too much trouble. Too expensive (tickets were over 80 bucks). Easier to buy the CD and stay home.

In a word, he was great. He gave a terrific show; he is an incredible musician. But it was loud. Man, was it loud. Some of the numbers, I sat there thinking, “I’m sure there is a kernel of music somewhere on the inside of all that noise.” But I think I know why they made it so loud, added the blinding lights, and rocked that building: for the young people. He was appealing to the youth. And apparently he did, because they were there in surprising strength. They knew the words better than I did.

Couple of times I thought my cell phone was going off. It was my body vibrating.

At the end, I decided that even though Billy Joel is of my generation or close to it, I am most definitely not his target audience. And I’m okay by that.

Earlier that evening before we left the house, our back door neighbor Bill called as I was setting out the garbage cans. “Joe, you got a minute?” I said, “Just about that.”

He said, “I preached a sermon recently, and now my home church wants me to preach it there. I need your help.”

Bill is a United Methodist. He owns a farm in the country and lives and works here in the city. We’ve been neighbors 13 years. He’s a good guy. Quiet. A family man.

“What did you preach about?” I asked. He said, “That we need to return Methodism to the old ways.” I said, “What old ways?” He answered, “To the ways of John Wesley.”

I said, “Okay, so what are the bad things you see in your denomination these days?” He answered, “Hillary Clinton is a Methodist.” That is exactly what he said.

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I’ll begin with some good news: Kenneth and Angela Foy are back after an absence of 18 months. For years, he was pastor of New Life Baptist Mission on Gentilly, not far from the seminary campus, while also serving as a counselor at our Brantley Baptist Center for the homeless. Angela worked as a legal secretary for a downtown law firm, alongside my daughter-in-law Julie.

“We evacuated to Grove City, Ohio,” they said. They attended the First Baptist Church there. “We were surprised to find they were Southern Baptists and they were surprised to find we were, too!” they laughed. “Those are the most wonderful people,” they said, referring to the church members and Pastor Jerry Neal. Angela said, “They hated to see us go.”

It’s still uncertain what they will do here, now that they’re back. The law firm long ago filled the vacancy left by Angela’s absence, and Kenneth and his scattered congregation had to sell their small church building. “We couldn’t handle the mortgage plus our house payment in Ohio.” Now, they’ve got their Ohio house on the market and planning to return to New Orleans permanently.

“We thought about relocating to Baton Rouge,” one of them said. “But we ran into someone here who said, ‘What do you mean going to Baton Rouge! We need you here!'” Kenneth said, “I couldn’t get that voice out of my mind. I think the Lord was using her to tell us we’re supposed to be in New Orleans.”

I’ve written the Ohio pastor to thank the church for taking such good care of the Foys. In the meantime, Kenneth is looking for opportunities to preach. These days, we have very few African-American churches and the ones we do have, post-Katrina, are struggling to make a go of it. We’ll appreciate prayers for the Foys.

John Claypool used to preach a sermon which he entitled, “Good Luck, Bad Luck–Who Is To Say?” The story on which he based the message is priceless. (Preachers, take note!)

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The front page of Sunday’s Times-Picayune begins a three day series on “The Fight to Save a Disappearing Coast,” referring to the wetlands between New Orleans and the Gulf of Mexico. “LAST CHANCE,” booms the headline across the top of the page.

Kerry St. Pe is the director of the Barataria-Terrebonne National Estuary Program, an effort to save one of the Gulf Coast’s most fragile and critical zones. A map on his office wall shows the satellite image of the great expanse of marshes which protect New Orleans from the ocean which we call the Gulf of Mexico. On the picture is a warning, announcing that these marshes will vanish by the year 2040. When that happens, the sea will be at New Orleans’ doorstep.

That map was produced 3 years ago. And it’s dead wrong.

St. Pe says, “People think we still have 20, 30, 40 years left to get this done. They’re not even close.”

“Ten years is how much time we have left–if that.”

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I told the children, “People think of missionaries as unusual people who go to strange lands and do amazing things. But the facts are far different. Missionaries are normal people who go anywhere–perhaps to your own town–and they do simple things.”

“Basically, what they do,” I said, “are four things: 1) they talk to people; 2) they build relationships with people; 3) they ask questions; and 4) they look for ways to help people.”

From 600 to 800 children and their adult church workers gathered Saturday for the annual Mission Jamboree (M-Jam) conducted by the Louisiana Baptist Convention’s Women’s Ministry Division of which Janie Wise is the leader. We met at Louisiana College in Pineville. Jim Chester–Baptist preacher, funny-funny man, and magician/illusionist–formed the parenthesis for the day’s conferences by doing a program at the beginning and the end of the day. He was as effective as I’ve ever seen anyone with hundreds of children. Every pastor who watches Jim do what he does will run out and buy himself a magic kit. He’s that good. And he frequently ties in his tricks with spiritual lessons.

In between Jim’s stuff, several of us “missionaries” were leading four conferences, back to back, with the group divided into segments that would fit into the smaller auditoriums.

After telling what missionaries do, I gave the children a sterling example of the 21 volunteers from the First Baptist Church of Buford, Georgia, who worked in New Orleans this week.

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First, the background. A couple of days ago, the Times-Picayune ran a feature about St. Mark’s Catholic Church and School in Chalmette. That would be in St. Bernard Parish, of course. They ran a photo of a classroom filled with hurricane and flood debris that has not been touched since Katrina hit over 18 months ago. Catholics are incensed, of course, but most have come to accept that due to the scope of this disaster, the decreased population, and the limited funds of the diocese, some of their churches are closed forever.

Thursday, this letter to the editor ran. The writer is listed as Rita Oalmann of the community of St. Bernard.

“I was appalled to see that St. Mark Catholic Church in Chalmette had not been cleaned out yet.”

“The Archdiocese of New Orleans should have called the Baptists. They would have cleaned it out, no questions asked, as they have been and still are doing at other locations in St. Bernard Parish.”

You can’t buy that kind of great publicity.

And in other news….

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Rudy French is teaching us all lessons on faith. When someone mentioned at our Wednesday pastors meeting that he had seen the signs from FBC-Norco inviting everyone to the ribbon-cutting of the church’s new mission center this coming Saturday–March 3, 11 am–Rudy told this story.

“They tell me that Henry Ford used to have a sign on his desk that said: ‘Think You Can. Think You Can’t. Either Way, You’re Right.’ Well, every church has some ‘think you can’t’ members. And even after all the wonderful things the Lord has done at First, Norco, we still have some like that. I wanted to advertise for our dedication this Saturday but some people just don’t see the need. It costs money. Then I saw these little ‘stick in the ground’ signs. They cost 10 dollars each. I didn’t have the money, but I bought 30, and we put them up around the area. Some of you saw them in LaPlace.”

“Our ribbon-cutting is not until this Saturday, but would you believe, we had four visitors last Sunday–people who saw our signs and decided to come worship with us! And just think what’s going to happen on Saturday!”

Rudy laughed and told how the sign in front of that church was still advertising Christmas services. He told a church member that it should be changed every week, and the man volunteered to see to it. “I looked out the other day and he was up on the ladder putting up the letters. And the man holding the ladder for him was our oldest member–89 years old! Neither one of them have very good eyesight. They would pick up a letter and squint at it and say, ‘Does this look like an ‘A’?” But praise God, they’re keeping that sign up to date and even thinking up good sayings to put on it!”

Steve Gahagan, Operation NOAH Rebuild, told the 35 pastors present of a woman calling their offices this week, shouting, “I got it! I got my money!” She had received a check for the full amount the Louisiana Recovery Authority is awarding people with damaged homes, over $150,000. She was ecstatic. Steve said, “That’s about to happen more and more. We’ve been moving slow about rebuilding because we didn’t have money to buy the materials. But as more and more people get their money, that’s not going to be the problem.”

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The First Baptist Church of Buford, Georgia, is here this week, working in St. Bernard Parish, staying in Hopeview Church, helping to construct the new FBC of Chalmette. Mike Rhodes, a former leader of our Kenner church, now belongs to the Buford congregation along with wife Pam and daughter Molly.

Susan, a member of the Buford team, visited our associational offices today (Monday) and said the folks back home are clamoring to be part of the next trip. She is one enthusiastic lady–and this is after her second night sleeping on a foam pad on the church floor! We are delighted these folks are here and we welcome them. (see below for Tuesday’s encouraging update.)

Monday we officially welcomed part of our new Baptist collegiate ministry team which will be working on our local campuses. Corey Olivier has the overall responsibility and came by with Kevin, who will guide the BCM work at Delgado, and Ben, who will spearhead the UNO ministry. Corey is full-time and will work out of the Tulane Center, while all the others will be interns while they’re pursuing seminary degrees. We appreciate the support of Dr. David Hankins and Student Ministries director Mark Robinson of the Louisiana Baptist Convention.

We’re always glad to get good news anywhere it can be found. The front page of Monday’s Times-Picayune announces the rebirth of the Eastover community in New Orleans East. This is an expensive part of town and the 225 homes of Eastover lie inside a high fence with entrances gated.

After the hurricane’s floodwaters receded, residents returned to find the area looking like a bomb had gone off. Authorities say from 6 to 10 feet of water covered this area for weeks.

Today, 87 of the homes are occupied and 81 are being repaired. The other 25 percent have been gutted with a single exception (the owners are still waiting on their insurance).

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If I had the power, I would send Bridgedale Baptist Church of Metairie one new family a month for the next year. I know what would happen: those new members would find themselves gifted with a brand new family of aunts and uncles and grandparents filled with love and ready to teach them in the ways of the Lord.

I worshiped with the folks of Bridgedale Sunday morning at eleven o’clock, and wondered if they are the last of our churches to keep to that traditional hour. Most seem to be meeting at 10:30, some at 10, one at 9:30, and several earlier (Franklin Avenue meets at 7:30 am) or later (Good News and New Vision at 2 pm). Someone told me Celebration’s primary worship service is Saturday night. I love that. Find what works best for you and the people you’re trying to reach, then do it.

The Bridgedale people are the kind I grew up with–about 25 or 30 lovely and saintly veterans of the Christian faith. Richard Dunnam is their pastor and Andy Condrey leads the worship. They have a wonderful location, excellent buildings, and a loving spirit. I wish them new families.

Sunday afternoon at 3 pm, Thomas Glover’s New Covenant Mission held the dedication of their “new” buildings at what was formerly Woodmere Baptist Church, their sponsor. Former pastor Randy Capote drove in from Grand Prairie, Texas, to preach the message. He told us, “A month ago, Pastor Glover and I were on the program of Christ Baptist Church as they dedicated their new facility. I said, ‘I’ll be back in a month for your dedication.’ Jill Glover said, ‘Ours will be longer and louder.'”

It was. It ended at 5 pm. I made a personal commitment that the next time I come to an African-American church service, I’m leaving my watch in the car. But hey, it was a great service. Really.

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If you are not familiar with the 1966 movie “A Man For All Seasons,” may I urge you to rent it and watch it. Lock the door, turn off your phone, and shut yourself in for two uninterrupted hours and I promise, you will be stirred as few movies have ever touched you. At the end, you will wipe away the tears and sit there contemplating the implications of the story you just saw for your own situation.

I was in seminary when this movie was released, and was so touched after seeing it I read everything I could find on Thomas More and King Henry VIII. Then I bought the Robert Bolt play on which the movie was based so I could go back and savor some of the choice lines. There are as many gems in this movie as any play Shakespeare ever penned. Mostly, it’s a photo essay on the high cost of integrity.

Turner Classic Movies played this Academy-Award winning movie Saturday night and I sat there for the full two hours, drinking it in as much out of curiosity as anything. Was it as wonderful as I remembered from 40 years ago?

It was far, far better–one of the true treasures from Hollywood if there has ever been one.

I have one caveat at the end of this short piece, which does not detract at all from the beauty of the movie or its impact upon anyone who would try to be faithful to God when all around him is flowing in the opposite direction. But it needs saying.

You know about Henry VIII’s succession of wives in his search for one who could give him a male heir. You perhaps know that when the Catholic Church would not dissolve his “present” marriage in order to legitimize the next union, Henry pulled his country out of the Roman Church and made himself the head of the Church of England, a condition that exists today.

The story of “A Man For All Seasons” concerns Henry’s Lord Chancellor, Thomas More, the only one of his inner circle who refused to sign off on the king’s shenanigans. For that, he was imprisoned in the Tower of London and then beheaded.

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Eugene Peterson tells us about a little dog he once owned that loved to drag up big bones.

“In his forest rambles he often came across a carcass of a white-tailed deer that had been brought down by the coyotes. Later he would show up on our stone, lakeside patio carrying or dragging his trophy, usually a shank or a rib…. Anyone who has owned a dog knows the routine: he would prance and gambol playfully before us with his prize, wagging his tail, proud of his find, courting our approval. And of course we approved: we lavished praise, telling him what a good dog he was. But after awhile, sated with our applause, he would drag the bone off twenty yards or so to a more private place, usually the shade of a moss-covered boulder, and go to work on the bone. The social aspects of the bone were behind him; now the pleasure became solitary. He gnawed the bone, turned it over and around, licked it, worried it. Sometimes we would hear a low rumble or growl, what in a cat would be a purr. He was obviously enjoying himself and in no hurry. After a leisurely couple of hours he would bury it and return the next day to take it up again. An average bone lasted about a week.”

Dr. Peterson has written a book with the intriguing title “Eat This Book,” which Bible students will recall is what the angel commanded of John in Revelation 10:9-10. Peterson wants you and me to learn to savor the Word of God, to do with Scriptures what his little dog used to do with that bone: spend time with it, enjoy it, work on it at a leisurely pace, and get all the good it contains, to leave it for a day and return tomorrow to see what else we can get from it.

That, you will agree, is a far cry from the hurried way many of us rush through the few verses we scarf down in the morning on our way out the door.

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