Spike Lee premiered his new HBO movie at the New Orleans Arena Wednesday night. They gave away thousands of tickets for locals to see “When the Levees Broke: A Requiem in Four Acts,” which is scheduled to be shown on the cable movie channel Monday and Tuesday. It’s four hours long, so they’re airing two hours nightly. I haven’t heard anyone who’s planning to watch.

Most of us around here are like the young teenage girl in Manhattan who said she almost never watches television anymore, just the food channel, because it’s the only place where she can be sure of not seeing a replay of the collapse of the Twin Towers in which her father died. The pain is still palpable.

According to the paper, reactions to the premiere were mixed. Some say movie-maker Lee focused only on his race and neglected whites who also lost homes, businesses, and neighborhoods. Some say he villified the whites in authority and gave the blacks in high places a free pass. Others say this was not the case at all. In one sense, so long as he is putting the New Orleans story out there, keeping our situation before the public, anything is better than nothing.

They arrested two National Guardsmen this week. Brought in last June to help patrol the streets of the city after a recent upsurge in lawlessness, the Guard has succeeded in putting a huge dent in the crime wave. Sergeant Caleb Wells and Specialist Junious Buchanan were charged with taking money from the wallets of people they stopped for traffic violations. A Sunday columnist writes that the only military group not charged with malfeasance in any way over the past year has been the Coast Guard.

Something I don’t understand (okay, one of many such things). The mayor and governor are working with federal officials to line up shelters for as many as 250,000 citizens in the case of another major hurricane. That number would probably have been appropriate a year ago, but since the population down here has dwindled so severely, why do they think we need that many spaces now? As far as I can tell, the poorest and the neediest of our citizens did not return. In case of another hurricane taking aim at this city, my own feeling is very few would need the emergency transportation and shelters being arranged. In fact, one of the main hurricane-preparedness-tip being broadcast is: For the first seven days of an evacuation, you should be able to take care of yourself.

A controversy rages among small businesses here regarding FEMA contracts for the trailers. This emergency agency has signed contracts for some $6 billion to place trailers in our part of the world, with a certain percentage of those contracts required to go to local businesses. For reasons not clear, FEMA decided that a huge company with offices in California and Texas qualified as a local business and assigned it a large slice of the pie. The company, called PRI/DJI, is licensed in this area and has done business in the state, said the FEMA people, and that qualifies it as a local company.

A government watchdog outfit called “CorpWatch” has complained about “disaster profiteering on the American Gulf Coast.” One key finding is that local companies are being overlooked when it comes to handing out these fat contracts.

Remember the old saw that goes: “Where there’s a will, there’s a relative”? In our case, where there is a government contract, look for a profiteer.

The Kenner City Council has ruled that all new homes or all old ones with more than 50 percent damage that are being rebuilt will have to be 3 feet above the middle of the street in front. Kenner is the highest ground in metro New Orleans and took only isolated flooding after Katrina, but one can’t be too careful, I suppose.

I was going to report here what Mayor C. Ray Nagin said about the role race played in the government’s slow response to the Katrina event, but I’m preaching today and need to keep my religion. You’ll have to read about it somewhere else. I find myself with less and less patience with this man.

Lakeview Baptist Church, in the neighborhood of the same name and just a few blocks north of Interstate 610 on Canal Boulevard, is meeting in their renovated fellowship hall. We had 25 in attendance this morning at 10:30, all of them home folks according to longtime staffer Harry Cowan. I preached on “Regardless.” (Scroll to the bottom of this article for my notes.)

The neighborhood around the church is still depressing. FEMA trailers here and there, some houses obviously gutted, a few lying dormant and untouched. The lovely brick home across the side street from the Lakeview Church appears to have survived the storm intact, until you notice the huge cracks down sides of the building. On closer inspection, you see the whole structure is sitting catty-whompus and will probably have to come down. Not to press this point too much, but the air outside Lakeview Church still reeks of mildew, the same stench I noticed the first time we checked out the church in the weeks after Katrina. Interim pastor (and pastor of this church for nearly forty years) Dick Randels and wife Eloise are vacationing in Colorado. Good for them.

I asked, “How many of you are living in a FEMA trailer?” I think four raised their hands. Most live outside the area in more-normal Jefferson Parish. I gave them Lynn Rodrigue’s line, “The Apostle Paul said he had learned to be content in whatever situation he found himself in, but Paul never had to live in a FEMA trailer with a wife and four small children!”

Freddie Arnold counted 80 attending his “Disaster Relief” training at our associational offices Saturday, including the workers. A wonderful response. Freddie preached Sunday morning and night at a church near Gonzales, Louisiana.

Sunday night, Barataria Baptist Church in the little community of Jean Lafitte ordained Glenn Despaux as a deacon. Several of us from high ground joined their two deacons and interim pastor (and NOBTS prof) Gerald Stevens at 5 pm for the ordination council, then the service at 6 pm. Glenn is a shrimper and was saved in that church less than three years ago. He said, “I was a nominal Catholic, just like my whole family. Then someone in our family went to the Baptist church and came back different. At first everyone was concerned–she’s not praying her rosary or praying through Mary. So they came over here to investigate and started reading their New Testament.” One by one, more and more family members were saved, until finally Glenn was reached too. “I carry my Bible on my boat,” he said.

A lady named Melinda introduced herself, “I’m the reason you’re driving a Camry.” I laughed and said, “You’re the one?” “Yes. I heard you on the radio that day.” Back in 2000, while I was pastoring at Kenner and doing a brief radio “phone call from the pastor” each weekday morning, I said on the air I wanted to buy a Camry but, “Does anyone know a good Christian salesman? I hate the hassle of dealing with these guys and trying to outmaneuver them.” Melinda heard this and called Terry Mehaffie at Bohn Toyota on the West Bank. “Terry,” she said, “They’re calling for you.” He called and we made contact and I bought a 2001 Camry from him. Melinda used to work as his secretary. Even though she no longer worked for him, she had tremendous respect for his integrity. That was good enough for me. Two people know the truth about a man’s Christianity: his wife and his secretary.

REGARDLESS. My wife and I have this friend named Linn. In the mid-90s she seemed to be homeless and would be seen walking up and down the thoroughfares with her two small children, a sad picture. One day she walked into our church asking for help. Eventually, we helped her a great deal, to the point of finding her a job, leading her to the Lord and baptizing her and the older child. One Sunday, my wife was taking her home from the service. Out of the blue, apropos to nothing, Linn said, “You know, I know I’m supposed to tithe my income to the Lord. I don’t see how I can afford it. But I’ve decided to do it regardless.”

Linn gave me permission to tell that story, changing some of the details to protect her, and I built an entire campaign in our church on the word “Regardless.” We printed the word on banners and posted them all over the campus. It’s how the Christian life is to be lived–believing and obeying regardless. Regardless of your fears, regardless what others say, regardless anything. Consider some biblical references.

Jesus found the disciples mending nets after a long and fruitless night of fishing. “Launch into the deep and let down your nets,” He told Peter. “Lord,” the fisherman said to the Distinguished Landlubber, “We’ve been at this all night and caught nothing.” Left unsaid was, “Don’t try to tell a real fisherman how to work his craft.” What he did say–give Peter credit–was, “Nevertheless, at thy word, we will.” The haul that day almost swamped two boats. Nevertheless, regardless. In spite of my own experience and understanding, I will obey.

Standing near the grave of Lazarus, Jesus talked with his sisters about the resurrection. Then He called to someone, “Remove the stone from the tomb.” They said, “Uh, Lord, you understand that it’s been four days since he died.” Without embalming, warm climate, you get the picture. However, in spite of that, they obeyed. Regardless.

Jesus sat with His disciples in the treasury area of the Temple doing someone every preacher would like to do but does not have the nerve: watching how people made their contributions. He nudged the disciples and said, “Look. See that little widow dropping in her two coins? She’s put in more than all the others. They gave from their surplus, but she gave her the last she had.” If she had been looking for excuses to get out of giving, she had plenty. Her offering would not make much difference; she desperately needed it; and the Temple is being run by a gang of crooks. (Ever heard someone say they are not giving their offering because they disagree with a decision the leaders made or they don’t like the preacher?) Regardless of all that, she gave, and the Lord was honored by her deed.

The last three verses of Habakkuk (3:17-19) may be some of the most important verses in all the Bible for God’s people in this area of the world right now. “Though the fig tree should not blossom and there be no fruit on the vines, Though the yield of the olive should fail and the fields produce no food, Though the flock should be cut off from the fold and there be no cattle in the stalls–yet, I will exult in the Lord, I will rejoice in the God of my salvation. The Lord God is my strength, and He has made my feet like hinds’ feet and makes me walk on my high places.”

Even though my house be flooded. Even though I have lost all my heirlooms and furnishings and personal items. Even though my neighborhood is gone and my job has disappeared. Even though my home now lies gutted waiting on the insurance money to be able to rebuild. Even though I do not know what the future holds. Yet. Regardless. I will rejoice in the Lord.”

Some years back I read in “The Commission” magazine an incident I will never forget. A church group from New Bern, NC, had traveled to the Caribbean on a mission trip. Their host took them to visit a leper colony on the Island of Tabago. While visiting with these sad patients, they held a worship service in the campus chapel. The lepers filed in and took their seats on the pews and the Carolinians led them in hymns. The pastor of the group–his name is Jack; wish I had the last name–noticed that one patient was sitting on the back row, facing in the opposite direction. How unusual.

Jack said, “We have time for one more hymn. Does anyone have a favorite?” Now for the first time, the leprous woman on the back row turned around to face the front. Jack said, “I found myself staring into the most hideous face I had ever seen. She had no nose and no lips. Just the bare teeth, like a skull.” As she turned, she raised her hand in the air. Except it wasn’t a hand. It was the bony end of her arm, just a nub. As poor Jack was trying to take this in, she spoke. “Could we sing ‘Count Your Many Blessings’?” That’s when the pastor lost it. He stumbled out of the pulpit and through the door into the yard, with tears in his eyes. Someone else stepped up and led the hymn and a friend walked outside and put his arm around Jack. “You’ll never be able to sing that song again, will you, Jack?” “Oh, yeah. I’ll sing it,” Jack said, “but not in the same way.”

Serving the Lord, rejoicing in Him, obeying, giving, loving, praying. Regardless. Anyhow. Nevertheless. Inspite of all the reasons not to.

“The just shall live by faith.” That’s what it means. I don’t have all the answers, all the pieces of the puzzle. But from what I do have, I know the way. I’m trusting Him.