7:30 am. The monthly brotherhood breakfast at Kenner’s First Baptist Church provided some insights on life in metro New Orleans these days.

On the first Sunday of each month, some forty men and boys gather for their monthly allotment of cholesterol (thick bacon, sausage, eggs, sausage gravy, grits, huge biscuits–you get the idea) and the kind of fellowship only a men’s gathering provides: laughter, teasing, back-slapping, loving, affirming. Three men spoke in the meeting; only one was scheduled.

Johnny, the leader, said, “You’ve heard the old line about ‘I’m from the government; I’m here to help you.’ Today, one of our men is going to give his testimony along that line.” He introduced Scott who had lost his business to Katrina.

Before Scott got started, Barry stood up. “If he’s going to tell about getting a Small Business Administration loan, I can give you some sad stories along that line. Applying for an SBA loan was absolutely the hardest thing I have ever done. It took 9 months, and there must have been a hundred steps involved. Finally, they sent us the money, then took it back. They sent it again and then took it back. We’ve got it now and I expect them to ask for it back any day now.” Your government in action.

Scott told of the frame-shop business he and his wife had purchased in 1999 from another church member. “This was our livelihood,” he said. During their Katrina evacuation into Belleville, Illinois–“some people call it Mayberry”–he went on line and found an aerial post-hurricane shot of the West Esplanade location of their shop. “There was this giant hole in the roof where you could see all the way through. That’s not good.” They had lost everything.

“The question was what to do now.” Some people suggested bankruptcy. “We didn’t want to do that.” Someone suggested he file for unemployment. “We did, and got $90 a week. That’s for a family of four. You know about how much good that did.” His parents in Boston called and said his room was still available; he could come back home. “I said, ‘Mom, Dad, I’m married now with two children.” Laughter.

Patrick, another church member, called Scott to say he was starting a business gutting out homes and inviting him in. “Not me,” said Scott. “I have a college degree. I’m a white collar fellow.” His wife said, “Well, you’re not sitting around this house.” Robert, another member of the church, called. “Do you know of anyone needing a job?” Scott reluctantly said, “Yes. Me.” That’s how he got started gutting out houses, a job he continued over the next five months. When that work dried up, he asked the Lord, “What next?” and received a phone call from someone whose business they had gutted asking him to go to work there.

Next, they found a place for their new frame shop. “The landlord is giving us the first two months free.” And they’re back in business, giving God the glory.

As the men applauded and Scott walked back to his seat, another man stood up. At first, I couldn’t hear him, he was speaking so softly. But I could see the tears. His wife had left him. He was asking for prayer. Dale said, “Let’s gather around this brother and pray for him.” The entire group moved in and surrounded him, laying hands on him or touching the person in front of them. They prayed for the restoration of this marriage and gave thanks for the courage it took to confess such a personal need.

The hero of this one-hour episode, you will surely agree, is the church. The fellowship of Christ-redeemed men who love the Lord and care for each other. When one is in trouble, they’re there. That has always been the plan. (Romans 12:15)

How I wish for this kind of fellowship and support for every member of my family. I wish it were the norm for every church.

10:30 am. I worshiped with the First Baptist Church of Harahan, where our friends Carl (Pam) Hubbert is pastor and David (Jennifer) Eastland is minister of education. Carl is halfway through his doctorate at our seminary and David recently received his. I was pastor of the entire bunch at Kenner a few years back. They are special to us.

“We’re up in attendance over a year ago,” David said. “As far as we can tell, we did not lose one member as a result of Katrina.” I said, “You’re the first. Every other church in the area did.” David asked Carl, “Did you tell Joe about the property next door?” “We’ve just bought it. We need it for Sunday School right now, and eventually will tear the building down and build something.”

During prayer time, David Eastland reminded the congregation of their internet prayer ministry by which they instantly spread word of prayer needs. Deacon Paul Cox asked for requests from the congregation. This one’s aunt was sick, this one’s friend was in the hospital, the usual stuff. Then Paul said, “How about a blessing? Does anyone have anything good to share?” That was all the encouragement the little kid behind me needed. He called out loudly, “We kicked Hoover’s butt!” The congregation erupted in laughter.

The story–for you non-football fans–is that Hoover, Alabama’s high school football team has been rated number one in the nation. John Curtis Christian School–located less than a mile from my house–is the football powerhouse in Louisiana. In fact, nobody wants to play them. They win state championships like I go to Wendy’s for lunch, on a regular ho-hum basis. So, Friday night, Curtis traveled to Birmingham for a showdown, and made short work of the Hoover squad.

“I’ll just write in my prayer list that we give thanks to the Lord for keeping everyone safe going to Birmingham and back for the game,” said Deacon Cox to more laughter.

Harahan was having the Lord’s Supper today, so Carl didn’t preach. At the end of the message, another deacon, Wayne Lee had the final announcements. Decked out in a beautiful black and gold Saints shirt, Wayne said, “I work in the French Quarter. The excitement last Monday was so high. The Saints coming back to the Dome, playing our arch-rival Atlanta. But we Saints fans have sometimes been disappointed when we got our hopes up too high. So Monday night was really something. And then, going to Alabama Friday to play Hoover that was great.”

He continued, “MTV has been running a feature on the Hoover football team. I watched them once and noticed the coach praying before the game, that they would do their best, that everyone would be kept from injury, and I was most impressed. Well, they didn’t do too well in the first half of the game and in the locker room, you ought to have heard the language that guy used on those kids. That’s not right. And I thought, it sure would be good if we could go up there and whip them.”

I wondered if he was going to leave this subject there, but he didn’t.

“Football is fun. We get all excited over these games. But they’re just games. Heaven is better. Our sports teams may win or lose, but in Jesus Christ we’re all winners and always doing well.”

The Harahan church is looking for a worship pianist in case you know of anyone.

2:00 pm. New Vision Baptist Church has spent almost all its existence on a neighborhood street in Kenner. When the hurricane hurt their buildings beyond repair, they gathered their people and began meeting on Sunday afternoons at the First Baptist Church of Luling. This lively little congregation is only now joining our Baptist Association of Greater New Orleans (and thus the Southern Baptist Convention), and we’re proud to have them. Pastor Mark (Alicia) Joslin has been more regular at our pastors meetings this year than I have.

New Vision’s congregation is mixed in several ways. Plenty of African-Americans and Asians blended with the Anglos, and they had lots of young people and children along with older adults. I was wearing the only tie in the place. Music was three guitars, a drum set, and a piano. These people were alive, alert, and completely involved in the service from the first note to the benediction. In fact, when I arrived at 2 o’clock on the dot, I thought they must have gathered earlier since not a soul was to be seen in the full parking lot. They were inside, in place, ready to get started, enjoying each other’s fellowship.

Pastor Mark preached on Ephesians 6:7, “Doing your work to please God, not man.” If we did that, he said, it would shut down some jobs altogether, in industries that do not please Him. And it would transform the quality of the service the rest of us render.

“Most suicides occur on Sunday night,” Mark said. People dreading Monday morning. “And most heart attacks occur on Monday morning.” He counseled, “Before changing careers, try changing your attitude toward the one you already have.” Same with your marriage. “Maybe the problem is you.”

Mark drew from the incident in Luke 5 where Jesus tells Peter to “launch out into the deep and let down your nets for a catch.” Peter reminded the Lord that they had worked all night and caught nothing. Mark called this “a rough night at work,” and who doesn’t know what that is about. “Nevertheless, at thy word, I will,” said Peter, and he learned a powerful lesson that day. Obedience to the Lord, regardless of how we feel or think we know, will transform our productivity and how we feel about our labors.

New Vision’s student minister is a young lady named Julie, whose husband is worship leader. She reported on the Saturday night “Truth or Dare” event the church held in the gym of Kenner’s Atonement Lutheran Church. (I spent 3 hours drawing people there for them. My body is still vibrating, my ears still ringing, from the loud music they blew into that auditorium! Oh, well, I’m sixty-six and I suppose they couldn’t find any Frank Sinatra records.) Julie said, “We had 600 in attendance, and perhaps 100 decisions were made. That includes 30 who indicated they prayed to be saved.” The congregation works at this annual event and God is using their faithfulness.

Between New Vision and Sunday night church, I managed to work in an hour nap. Earlier, I had also managed to hear most of the Saints-Panthers football game which ended disappointingly for our guys.

6:00 pm. Parkview Baptist Church in Metairie is one of the few Baptist churches in the area still having Sunday night services. Pastor (Doctor) Bill Day heads up the seminary’s evangelism and missions center, and minister of music Dr. Ed Steele and wife Dr. Kathy Steele, counseling, are also professors. But they led a wonderful service tonight and didn’t administer any tests, so apparently no one holds it against them.

Parkview is one of the newest and most attractive of our churches in the metro area. They’ve lost a number of members since the hurricane, as with most of our other congregations.

After I did the invocation and gave a brief report on the number of churches back in operation, Pastor Bill–who is a statistician–reported to the people that 60 percent of churches in New Orleans and St. Bernard are not operating at all. Nevertheless, he said, “We’re praying for revival.” In fact, they’ve scheduled a revival meeting the first week of November, with fellow professors Preston Nix and Darryl Ferrington leading.

Bill said, “Nineveh was one bad city. They would skin their enemies and nail the skin to a wall, as a way of saying, ‘Don’t mess with us.’ Jonah went reluctantly to Nineveh. But God sent a revival. Dr. Chuck Kelley has studied revivals all over America. It is surprising where revivals have broken out. But there has never been a revival in New Orleans. That’s what we are praying for, that a revival would begin here and spread throughout the world.”

Bill’s sermon was from Psalm 37. “Patience.” Waiting on the Lord. “I have less patience since Katrina,” he admitted. “Job is a good example of patience,” he said. He endured the trials, then the harassment of his friends and the non-support of his wife. Yet he was faithful. “And yet, notice that he never received an answer. He never did learn what his suffering was all about. We know. We’ve read the whole story. But God never told him.”

“Jell-o is about to celebrate its 120th birthday,” Bill said. “I’m sure you have that marked on your calendar.” He told of the fellow who invented jell-o, some man with the first name of Pearl. All he did was add fruit flavoring to gelatin. Surely that will sell, he thought. But within a year, he had given up and he sold the whole thing to another fellow for $450. Soon, that man was marketing jell-o throughout the country and bringing in a million dollars a year. “Pearl was too impatient,” he said.

Four churches in one day. Each one as different and individual as any four children, each one as fine and wonderful as my grandchildren. In each one, I felt as welcome and as at home as if I were in my living room. Four different pastors, each one dear friends and wonderful brothers. I am truly blessed.

I may have the best job in town. No Sunday night suicides or Monday morning heart attacks for me, thank you.

My son Neil called my attention to a newspaper article from this week which you might find interesting. In so doing, he “forced” me to read something I had chosen to skip. There are rats and vermin in the unrestored homes and piles of trash around our city. Not a pretty story.

One fellow told of a huge snake chasing him inside a house. The city’s exterminators say they’re used to finding garter snakes and rat snakes in abandoned houses, but the ones they are encountering these days are larger and more aggressive. And the rats! Large and plentiful. The gestation period for a rat is 22 days and within two months of birth, the females are ready to reproduce. Then, there are fire ants. And Formosan termites.

The city fathers suggest that anyone encountering these may call 911 and be connected to a special site for dealing with such infestations. Until recently, the city had just a half-dozen or so exterminators, but they have expanded their staff because of the size of the problem.

I know that will surely make our readers want to volunteer to come to New Orleans and help rebuild this city! But, to be fair, of all the volunteers we’ve had working here these months, I’ve not heard one report of anyone encountering a snake or large rat.

Again, to be fair, however: you might. As Dr. Kelley said of this year’s incoming seminary class, only the strong-hearted have shown up. This is no place and no time for sissies. (Or for foolishness either, of course. Let us be careful at all times.)