When Elvis Presley died, someone asked Pastor Adrian Rogers of Memphis’ Bellevue Baptist Church if he thought “the king” had gone to Heaven. He answered, “Even if I thought he did, I wouldn’t say it. I don’t want people thinking you can live the way he did and still go to Heaven.”

A local priest had no compunction against that this week.

Al Copeland was laid to rest Monday. He was, in the words of one of his neighbors, our very own Elvis. If New Orleans has ever had a character, it was Mr. Copeland.

I’ll try to make this as brief as possible. Copeland started out in life poor, then became a millionaire with the Popeye’s fried chicken franchises, got into financial trouble when he bought Church’s Fried Chicken and had to sell out. But he kept a lesser known company, one selling spices for his chicken–and that is what has kept him rich. The paper says he was pulling down 9 million a year and was worth a fair piece of change. He raced speedboats and drove Rolls Royces and Bentleys and married the prettiest girl in the land–four times to be exact.

Each of his weddings was more lavish than the one before. The last two are still being talked about. The third took place in the Museum of Art in City Park, and the fourth in St. Louis Cathedral. When criticized for allowing this oft-married and gaudily-divorced man to hold his wedding in the Cathedral, the spokesman for the church pointed out that only his first marriage had the blessing of the church and that wife had died, so in the eyes of God this was only his second wedding.

Cosmetic surgery kept the 64 year old looking as youthful as his women. Cancer of the salivary glands killed him a week ago. He died in Germany where he had gone seeking a cure.

His divorce from the third wife ended up with the judge being thrown in jail for taking a bribe from Copeland’s attorney, although Al himself was never implicated.

The Christmas display at his Metairie home was one you loved if you lived elsewhere and drove in with your kids, or hated if you lived anywhere nearby due to the lights and the traffic. Newspaper columnists lauded him for lighting up his house after Katrina as a symbol that everything was going to be all right.

I never met the man. I have no first-hand knowledge of his eternal destiny. I am not his judge and wouldn’t want to be.

But I wanted to tell you about the funeral. It took place at the ritziest of Catholic churches in town, the Holy Name of Jesus Church on St. Charles Avenue, next door to Tulane University.

The priest, Monsignor Christopher Nalty, said during the funeral mass, “Most people knew Al Copeland as someone who lived in the fast lane. They didn’t realize that he knew that the Catholic Church was the one road to heaven.”

That’s what he said. (**CORRECTION. wEDNESDAY MORNING’S TIMES-PICAYUNE RUNS A CORRECTION ON THE FRONT PAGE. APPARENTLY, THAT IS NOT WHAT THE PRIEST SAID. SEE NOTE AT THE BOTTOM OF ARTICLE.)

A quote from Tuesday’s Times-Picayune: “Although Copeland may have eschewed much of his characteristic bravado in his final months, mourners saw plenty of reminders of his over-the-top style when they reached the family mausoleum in Metairie Cemetery. Nine cars, eight motorcycles, a sport-utility vehicle and a dune buggy were parked in a semicircle. A motorcycle was at the gate, and Copeland’s outside speedboat, with tongues of flame on each side, was nearby.”

They brought his toys to the funeral service.

His older brother Gilbert said in the funeral, “Thank you, brother, for setting the example of how to live and how to die. I can say, with confidence, that nothing will ever be the same.”

His neighbor, Jay Polite, told the mourners that living on his street was “like living next door to Elvis.”

In his last months, Copeland, confined to a wheelchair, stopped off in the Vatican to see the pope. The priest said he wanted to get his spiritual affairs in order, and so naturally went to the top man. Because the pope was on a retreat, “Al got stuck with me,” he said. Father Nalty is a native of our city and a member of the Roman Curia, a small bureaucracy that runs the Catholic Church.

In Rome, Nalty said, he and Copeland engaged in a number of sessions. He was “a Catholic man who knew he needed God’s mercy.” They traveled to Lourdes, a holy place for Catholics, where Copeland took a bath in the sacred waters.

“I know Al received God’s mercy,” the priest said. “I have the sure and certain hope that I will see Al again, and it will be right with Jesus.”

Copeland’s three living wives were at the funeral, along with his nine children and 14 grandchildren. “Because 11 was his lucky number,” the paper said, “11 white doves were released, followed by 111 gold and white balloons.”

At the burial, New Orleans funerals will often feature a jazz band and a “second line” parade. They’ll play “Just a Closer Walk” or something, then break into a lively tune. At Copeland’s, they played “My Way” and “St. James Infirmary,” followed by the final selection: “Love That Chicken From Popeyes.”

May I be allowed just one comment of my own?

If Elvis or Al Copeland or the sweet 81-year-old lady whose funeral I held Friday go to Heaven, it will not be by any church, no matter how lavish or large or lauded. It will be through the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ and Him alone.

“Neither is there salvation in any other. For there is no other name under Heaven given among men whereby we must be saved.” That’s Acts 4:12.

I hope Al is there. And everyone else, for that matter. My Bible says “God is not willing that any should perish but that all should come to repentance.” (II Peter 3:9)

Thank God, He did not just sit in Heaven and wish we were forgiven and coming His way. He did something about it. “God loved us and sent His Son.” “When we were still helpless, Christ died for the ungodly.” “God demonstrates His love for us in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.”

It’s the Gospel. And it’s the only message of salvation on the planet, friend.

(**I can’t recall seeing the newspaper run a correction on the front page. Wednesday’s Times-Picayune has two. The first reads as follows: “A story in Tuesday’s editions about Al Copeland’s funeral misquoted a line in Monsignor Christopher Nalty’s homily during mass. Drawing a contrast between Copeland’s life in the fast lane, Nalty said the Catholic Church “was the road to heaven, the last road he took.” As it appeared in the newspaper, the quote described the Catholic Church as “the one road to heaven.” Nalty on Tuesday restated the church’s official position which makes no claim to exclusivity to salvation.”

I’m delighted with the correction and apologize for my statement: “That’s what he said.” Knowing a little about how the media can misquote a person, I should have said, “That’s what the paper says he said.”

I’m visiting with my ear-nose-throat doctor today, Dr. R. Daniel Jacob, a layman in the Catholic Church, and as fine a Christian man as I have ever met in anyone’s church.

Oh, the second front-page correction dealt with something on Jefferson Parish’s drainage system.)