The state conference of the United Methodist Church has divided 38 churches in the New Orleans area into seven clusters, most with one or more disabled churches unable to hold services or open on a limited basis. The idea is for the Methodists in those areas to get together and do a self-study, have meetings and forums, then make the tough decisions on the future of their churches.

This will require new strategies, according to Bishop William Hutchinson, and that may require a fresh infusion of new pastors into the area. “We’re not declaring any church abandoned…(or) closed,” he said. What they’re trying to do, he says, is put those key decisions into the hands of the members.

This is a different approach from the Catholic churches in the area, where the Archbishop made the decisions and handed them down. Several churches with long traditions have been shuttered, the congregations merged with others, and a lot of people are unhappy about it. Someone wrote the newspaper the other day demanding that Archbishop Hughes tell people why he did what he did. I’m a Southern Baptist and not in on the doings of the Catholics, but I can answer that question. It’s economics. If you have no people living in the neighborhood, you can’t afford to keep up all those churches. And anyone who has driven this city knows there are no small Catholic churches here. All seem to be huge and elaborate. My guess is it costs a small fortune to keep them cleaned and staffed and in full operation.

This is also a different approach, some are saying, from the top-down executive type decision which usually characterizes the United Methodist Church. In this case, they’re really asking the members what they want to do.

Even with this reasonable, “bottom-up” approach by the United Methodists, a lot of members are feeling insecure right now, afraid their favorite church will be lost. Reverend Lekisha Reed of the Boynton UMC in Gretna said this week, “I’m picking up on the fear of the unknown. You don’t know what the future is going to look like.”

One resident said, “I’ve lost everything else. Don’t take my church away from me.” As palpable as his pain is, all that gentleman has to do is look around and he’ll find thousands of neighbors in the same boat with him.

Methodist pastors assigned to the area will be required to live in the same zone as the church. “There will be no commuters,” said Bishop Hutchinson. “We must demonstrate by our presence that United Methodists believe in the city and its future.” Problem is, some ministers have already served notice that due to family considerations they would find it impossible to live in New Orleans.

The Times-Picayune states, “No one doubts that big change is in store for local Methodists, who are down sharply in their numbers and in their collection-plate offerings–just how much isn’t clear–and face many millions in building repair costs. Some congregations have been reduced to communicating through e-mail and to holding occasional services in a gutted sanctuary or tent.”

The Baptists of New Orleans feel their pain. It’s much like the situation we’re dealing with.

At lunch with NAMB’s Joe Williams Monday, we found ourselves sitting one table over from Edgewater Baptist Church’s Kevin Lee and some from his church, including the pastor and a staffer from Travis Avenue Church in Fort Worth. “We had over 90 in our tent yesterday,” Kevin said. That included church volunteers in town to assist in their rebuilding. “Several from the neighborhood stopped in for church,” he said. They’re cooking supper on an outside grill on Wednesday evenings and noon Sundays, and serving anyone who comes.

The combined church services in St. Bernard Parish, meeting in the Chalmette High School, is running regularly over 200 in attendance. “The Samaritan’s Purse people make up a sizeable part of the congregation,” one of the men from the church told me Monday. “And they are putting money into the offering plate.”

One of the differences in Southern Baptists and, say, the Catholics or Methodists is each of our churches is independent and autonomous. Self-governing and self-supporting. We have no bishops and no hierarchy to tell a church what it must do. In a “congregational” form of government like ours, the decisions are made by the membership. Is this better than the “episcopal” form which the other two groups employ? (The third type is called “presbyterian” meaning “elders,” in which a small group of leaders make the decisions.) In some ways, yes, in other ways, no. In the present situation, however, our method has been proven to work wonderfully well for us.

Each Baptist church makes its own decision whether to shut down, close temporarily, or rebuild. Then the other Baptist churches–the ones that wish to help–take up offerings, send work crews, pray for them, etc. It’s all voluntary and so far it’s working beautifully. Some churches, such as Riverview in Buras and First, Arabi, were so severely damaged, they voted to disband and have re-allocated their assets. Some churches deed over their property to us, the Baptist Association of Greater New Orleans, knowing that when the time comes, perhaps in a few years, when a church is needed there, we will send in volunteers to get the church ready and a preacher to start rebuilding the membership.

Again, it’s all on a voluntary basis. The bad part of our system is that sometimes our churches are slow to adjust when they should be making radical changes. For example, decades ago in the Catholic and Methodist churches, bishops handed down rulings that churches would open their memberships to all races. No discussion, just do it. In Southern Baptist churches, each congregation had to struggle with this, some more than others, and solve it in their own way. Almost every Baptist church in New Orleans is racially mixed, some to a major extent, some less.

One of our leaders of the last generation wrote a book about this loose way we have of denominational cooperation. He called it, “Rope of Sand; Strength of Steel.” Dr. James L. Sullivan would say, “A rope of sand shouldn’t work. And a movement of thousands of independent churches should not give you great strength. But it does.”

If I’ve heard it once, I’ve heard it a hundred times. “It’s a great time to be a Baptist in New Orleans.” Baptists from fifty states have been here working. Some came with the National Guard and law enforcement groups, but most were among the hundreds of church groups descending on the city to gut out and clean out and begin the rebuilding process. Our people have served something like 15 million meals across the Katrina-damaged part of the world since August 29. And yes, to repeat, we’re not alone. Our United Methodist friends have been here in large numbers. And so many others, from churches across the nation. Under no circumstances do we think we’re doing it all down here.

We’re just rejoicing that we’re doing something, doing it well, and that God is blessing it.

Something unusual for this Baptist preacher is that I’ll be preaching in two United Methodist churches this spring. Good for them, inviting me. Good for me, having this opportunity.

For several hours Sunday afternoon, I sat at a table in the parking lot of Avondale’s First Baptist drawing people as a part of their block party. Church groups from Hermitage Hills Church in Nashville and from Missouri were there, reaching out to the neighbors. I must have drawn a hundred or more people. After doing this all my adult life, I heard something Sunday I’ve never heard before. A lady sitting across the table from me said, “When I saw what you were doing, I wanted to be drawn. So I went home and got my teeth.” She had a lovely smile.