Mickey Caisson of the North American Mission Board said today, “I tell people the best thing they did in New Orleans after the hurricane was to get the pastors together. That weekly meeting became a place for them to minister to each other and encourage one another, yes, but it was also a place where outsiders came to meet with the pastors, to bring information and get connected with the people needing help.”

He added, “I can show you lots of places that came through disasters where they wish they had done that.”

His comment, spoken in our conference room Wednesday afternoon, was especially meaningful, coming as it does just after the second anniversary of Hurricane Katrina. Last Wednesday marked the last of the weekly pastors’ gatherings. Today, the first Wednesday of September, was the beginning of our new schedule. From now on–and indefinitely we hope–the pastors will gather the first and third Wednesdays in our association Baptist center from 10 to 11:30 am.

We had 40 or 50 in attendance this morning, and began with our monthly associational executive committee meeting. We approved two new church starts, one an African-American mission at the Carver Center in Uptown, the other a Vietnamese mission in New Orleans East.

As if to underscore the heart of these weekly meetings as encouragement, pastor after pastor emphasized the blessing they had received from coming together, getting to know one another, praying with one another, praying for each other. And the fellowship. Just talking. Being in each other’s presence.

Who knew when we started this that God had this blessing in store.

Harry Lewis, vice-president of the North American Mission Board, was visiting in our offices this afternoon. He asked Freddie Arnold and me, “What are the chief lessons you have learned?”

We named three and could have given him a dozen.

1. Nothing is impossible.

Time after time, pastors have reported that just as they discovered a particular need, someone called offering exactly that. It was uncanny. It’s all about the power of prayer.

God’s people–including Baptists but not limited to our group–have been so giving, so generous, so compassionate, and so dedicated, that we who live here have been forever changed.

2. Walls have broken down.

Racial barriers, social barriers, neighborhood divisions, clannishness, the strangehold of certain groups on the political life of this city–all have come down.

3. We need each other.

Prior to the hurricane, we had trouble getting our pastors together once a month for an hour. Now, a poorly attended meeting will have 20 or 25 show up. Our leaders know one another.

Watch our people at these weekly meetings and you’ll notice something else. They mix themselves up. Previously, a table would fill with Hispanic or Anglo or African-Americans. Nowadays, they know each other, like one another, and are quick to pull a chair up to a table and join in the conversations without a thought to color of skin or accent. They applaud one another, suggest that we call on this one or that one to tell something wonderful that has occurred in his church, and are quick to pray for each other.

The great burden of my heart prior to Katrina was the isolation of our churches. The pastors hardly knew each other and the other church leaders knew none of their counterparts in the other congregations. A church might as well have been in a foreign country, for all the contact they had with their closest brethren. The isolation of the churches results in the insulation of our members. That causes the dereliction of our duty to be salt and light in the community.

We’re not where we want to be or ought to be, but we’re light years further down the road toward oneness, harmony, and unity with our own than previously.

And what are the other lessons?

It’s a good time to be a Baptist in New Orleans. In the early days following the hurricane, people would call radio stations decrying the absence of their ministers and wondering where their outside assistance was. Frequently, they would add, “But those d—-d Baptists are everywhere! I don’t know what we’d do without them!” I thought of making a t-shirt that said, “I’m one of those d—-d Baptists!”

Whoever came up with the idea of the Cooperative Program (our denomination’s plan for distributing contributions so that all the key ministries can be funded) back in 1925 was a genius. We owe that person a lasting debt of gratitude.

God has some pretty wonderful people. While we were discussing these points with Harry Lewis, Freddie and I were staring at some of our heroes, NAMB’s Mickey Caisson and NOAH’s David Maxwell. They continue to devote themselves to seeing that whatever can be done in this city with our denomination’s resources will be done. Working alongside them are so many others, but South Carolina’s Steve and Dianne Gahagan come to mind, in their work running Operation NOAH Rebuild here.

The people of this city are more open to the gospel than ever. Anyone who has spent any time here over the last decades will tell you the city has not always been receptive to the Gospel of Christ. That goes right back to the early days of New Orleans. We have in our Baptist historical records the story of one man who came here in the early 1800s for no other purpose than to give away Bibles. In six weeks, I think he was able to place a dozen. But no more. People are open. The doors of opportunity have swung wide.

Whoever thought of the idea of our denomination forming Disaster Relief ministries a long time ago are such champions. Mickey Caisson said, “It was the Baptists of Texas. People like Bob Dixon.” It was back in the 1960s, he said. That state’s leadership of Baptist men were responding to a disaster somewhere and obviously started small, doing what they could. Using cans of sterno, they heated cans of food. Then someone thought, if we can do it with a small can, why not a huge one. And they were off.

Today, Southern Baptists alone have a thousand units of disaster relief ministry throughout the country, with some 75,000 people trained in DR work. Pretty wonderful.

There’s no end to this listing of the lessons from these past two years, so I’ll close it with this.

I can imagine a pastor of a normally operating church wondering, “Why should I go to the pastors meetings? I’m fine. My church is doing well. They’re not doing anything I need.”

I’d like to say to him, “That is far too short-sighted for a man of God. First, you are not the judge of what you need. God knows. So, don’t be too quick to dismiss the idea of getting together with your brethren.”

Then I would add, “Has it occurred to you that the other ministers may need you?”

That’s what our guys have found. Most of them, at any rate. They have found real friendships–pastors typically have all too few friends, if they have any–they’ve found prayer partners, and they have found brothers. They have rejoiced with those who rejoice and they have wept with those who were weeping. They preach about the power of prayer all their ministry, but they have found how prayer really works.

These guys will not ever be the same. I know I won’t be.

I find myself wondering if meeting twice monthly for 90 minute sessions will be often enough and long enough for new pastors coming in to our area to get to know one another and for our veterans to get acquainted with them. And what if they decide they’re too busy in their new assignments and don’t have the time for this. “I’m doing fine,” I can hear them saying. And they are. To a point. But they don’t know what else the Lord has for them unless they make this effort.

I feel a little stymied in my effort to get them together. After all, some will look upon me as the denominational guy, the professional who gets paid to promote meetings. I may be that, of course, but all I really am is a pastor in a temporary assignment with the association. I told the pastors today that in urging them to get their churches to contribute to the association, some will think I’m feathering my own nest, that this is for me. Not so. My salary will be met, regardless. It’s about doing the Lord’s ministry in this great mission field, one of the neediest in the country.

A new director of missions in another state emailed me this week, asking for advice on getting started, what to do, what books to read, etc. I said a few things to him–mostly that I don’t know much about the job and he should ask someone else–but I’ve thought of one piece of advice. If at all possible, he ought to get his pastors together on a regular basis. And the most important aspect of their gathering is this: no program. Do not bring in a speaker. They don’t need it, it’s a waste of time. They don’t need officers and elections. You can lead the meeting, when it has to be done.

Most of all, pastors need fellowship. In fact, if the pastors did nothing but sat around a table and ate a meal, then remained as long as they liked just visiting with each other, it might be the best thing you could possibly do. To be sure, some are such Type A personalities they could not stand not having a program, not having a mission statement–Lord help us–and not having a purpose for this meeting. The director of missions would have to counsel them individually, asking them to settle down and wait on the Lord. Ask Elijah. God was not in the whirlwind, not in the earthquake, and not in the fire. Only in the still small voice.

Have a great week. Thank you for praying for our pastors.

I’ll be in Monroe, Louisiana, next Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday (September 10-12, 2007). Speaking to primarily senior adults in what they call a “Progressive Revival.” Monday at the FBC of Monroe, Tuesday at FBC of West Monroe, and Wednesday at Parkview Church of Monroe. These are daytime meetings, beginning at 10 am, and ending with lunch. I’ll have my sketch pad and will be drawing people. People from churches all over the area will be coming. If you live in the area, you’re certainly invited.