I drove 6 hours to get to “church” Saturday night. It was worth the drive.

On Friday, I had driven to Birmingham to speak at the annual deacons’ banquet in the outstanding Green Valley Baptist Church where NOBTS grad Jeff Vanlandingham is pastor. I spent the night with my big brother Ron, veteran pastor in the Gardendale area, and Saturday at 11 am the family gathered at Niki’s restaurant on Finley Avenue to celebrate our parents’ 72nd wedding anniversary. (Mom got up feeling her age and asked if someone else could sit in for her. Sorry, mom. No one can take your place. She seemed to make it just fine.) I cut out at 12:30 and headed south toward New Orleans, trying to make the 7 pm start for the “Celebration of Hope” in the New Orleans Arena. Franklin Graham would be the preacher.

Our church–the First Baptist Church of Kenner, near the New Orleans airport–lined up five buses to ferry members and friends to the arena, and presumably wanting to make certain everyone got a seat, left two hours before the service for what is about a 20 minute drive. I’m uncertain what the arena’s capacity is, but it was filled to the brim, with only a few empty seats here and there, and a larger section behind the stage where anyone sitting would not be able to see anything. Pick a number. I’d say 15,000 were in attendance. We’ll see what the Sunday morning paper says. I did arrive on time, finding a space in the Superdome parking lot, and settling in beside son Neil and his family with 10 minutes to spare. Section 309 is on the nosebleed level. Seriously, this building was constructed strictly for basketball (although Placido Domingo did a concert here this week) and the rows of seats seem to be stacked on one another. Stumble on the top row and they’ll pick you up downstairs on the court. And probably haul you off to the morgue. It’s scary. And the seats are tight, not unlike sitting in the middle seat on an airplane for 3 hours. You gotta wanna do this. And we did.

Music. You like it, they had it. Local choirs did the pre-service praise, then the celebration officially got underway. George Huff of American Idol fame. Guitarist Dennis Agajanian. Point of Grace. One after another. Good music, I’m sure. Not my preference for the most part, but, hey, they weren’t aiming at me. Let’s just say the place was rocking. That went on for an hour, interspersed with videos on the New Orleans crisis, Franklin Graham’s ministries, and a testimony from a football star.

Okay, I’m ready for Franklin Graham. Not yet. Mel Graham was introduced, the son of Billy Graham’s recently deceased brother Melvin. He told of growing up on the family dairy farm and getting into real estate. “In my 20s I turned my back on God,” he said. “God showed me who was boss, and brought me to my knees.” Partying, drinking. “A policeman woke me up in the middle of an intersection.” That was the night he spiritually awakened and gave his life to the Lord Jesus Christ and began to get his act together. “He’s the One and Only Answer,” he said.

Okay, Franklin Graham now. Nope. “Let’s put our hands together and welcome Tommy Walker.” Say who? “I’m your worship leader,” he said. For the next 30 minutes, he led us in hymns and choruses, accompanying himself on the guitar. I was the only person in the building, judging by the wonderful singing and enthusiastic participation, who was ready for the preaching. Maybe it was because I’d just driven 6 hours and was tired.

At 8:30 Franklin Graham walked to the podium without an introduction or any kind of announcement. “My father is in the audience,” he said. “I’m not going to tell you where. He wanted to be present and participate tonight.” Turns out all of Franklin’s family was present–wife Jane, their children and spouses, grandchildren.

After giving the famous Graham opening statement, “I’m going to be brief,” he began the invitation, explaining the purpose of this event and the public invitation that would follow his message in which people can come forward and pray with a counselor to know Christ as Savior. (Refer to my previous article commenting on the Billy Graham manner of beginning the public invitation the moment he opens his mouth to speak.)

“Do you know Jesus Christ? You say, ‘Franklin, I think so.’ Uh huh. I’m not talkin’ about thinkin’ nothin’!” (laughter) Then he repeated the invitation. “Be prepared to come,” he said.

Matthew 24 was his text, “Watch therefore, that you be not deceived.” Earthquakes, wars, famines. These are not the end. Just the beginning of sorrows.

“Many ask was the hurricane God’s judgment? I don’t believe it was. Churches were destroyed and homes. A day after the hurricane, we came into this area, but could only get to Mobile. The roads were closed. When they opened, we moved into Biloxi and Waveland and Pass Christian, then on to Texas and back across Louisiana to this city. Trying to help people who lost everything. I don’t believe it was God’s judgment. There is a devil and he is a destroyer. He wants your soul and wants to make sure that you are sentenced to suffer in hell forever. The battle is going on in this arena, a battle for your soul. Are you ready to stand before a holy God? You can have a new beginning tonight.”

“Some have asked if this is the beginning of the end of the world. Jesus says not to be deceived, that these things are only the beginning of sorrows. In the last 80 years, we have had two world wars. In the last 60 years, the atomic age. Pandemics. Bird flu that could kill millions. HIV Aids. 43 million are infected worldwide and there is no cure and none on the drawing board. Eboli. Mad cow disease. Rogue states like North Korea. Islamic fundamentalism. Storms. Earthquakes.”

“What can we do to be ready for the end of the age? God wants to write your name down in the Lamb’s Book of Life. Is your name in it? Are you prepared to stand before Him?”

“I’m a sinner. I have broken God’s law. And so have you. We’re under the sentence of death. That’s why God sent His Son to shed His blood for you. He took your sins to the cross and took them to the grave. On the third day God said, ‘That’s enough,’ and raised Him from the dead. He’s not on the cross anymore. He’s here tonight. He will take away the guilt and shame of your sins.” (Once again, he repeated the invitation he would extend soon.)

“God had a plan. To send His Son. It’s by grace. If it was by works, you would brag about it. ‘Let me tell you what it cost me.’ It cost you nothing, friend, but it cost Him everything.”

“He wants you to be with Him singing before His throne. But you have to get there His way. In John 14:6, Jesus says, ‘I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except by me.’ You say, ‘That’s boasting.’ No, it’s the truth.”

“Buddha did not die for your sins. Mohammed did not die for your sins. Jesus died for your sins.”

He recited John 3:16. “It’s what my father is going to preach on tomorrow.”

Franklin told of the time a woman was interviewing him. At one point he said to her, “Now, may I ask you some questions. Do you know Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior? Do you know how much He loves you? Would you like to invite Him into your life to forgive your sins?” She prayed with me right there, asking Jesus into her life. Then she said, ‘I need to confess something to you.’ She told of having an abortion 20 years ago. “Every day I grieve over that,” she said. “I wonder who that child would have been. Would God forgive that?” Franklin said, “He just did.”

“Will you do this tonight?” he said, and repeated the terms of tonight’s public invitation.

“I’m guilty,” he said. “I was 22 years old when I got on my knees. You say, ‘But you’re Billy Graham’s son. You are a shoo-in for Heaven.” No, you have to make your own choice. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe in Jesus. I just didn’t want Him controlling me. I wanted to do as I pleased. But that is a trap. A dead-end. A hole. A vacuum.”

“Only a personal relationship with Almighty God through His Son will meet this need and fill that void. Will you believe tonight? Will you trust Him?”

“You say, ‘Why do I have to come by Jesus?’ Because He’s the one who died for you.”

Almost imperceptibly, he moved from his sermon into the public phase of the invitation by adding one three-letter word: “now.” “I want you to get up now and come forward. Make your way to the aisle.”

They began streaming down the aisles and stairs from every direction. There was no music for a time; he just stood there quietly talking. No pressure, no emotional arm-twisting. Some people stood applauding.

When the invitation ended and Franklin led the responders in the sinner’s prayer, the center floor of the arean–the court for basketball games–was completely covered. Many of those were counselors, of course, but no doubt a large number were responding to the invitation to receive Christ as their Savior.

I sat in the stands with our family thinking, “This is it. This is what we have been hoping for and praying for over the last couple of years. It’s what we’ve been anticipating the last 6 months, almost.” And I did what I had been doing on the long afternoon drive from Birmingham: I prayed for people’s locked hearts and closed minds to open to the Holy Spirit and for them to be born again and begin to live forever.

Sitting with a granddaughter in my lap, I whispered in her ear, “When we get to Heaven, people will come up to us and say, ‘I was saved on that Saturday night in New Orleans when Franklin Graham preached.'” She agreed that was pretty exciting stuff.

Sunday at 4 pm, it’s Billy Graham’s time. We’re still excited and still praying.

THE SUNDAY MORNING PAPER said the attendance was 13,000. Page 1 of the B section declares “Graham brings a message of hope.” Subtitle: “Famous preacher’s son opens revival.” The article covered the same ground I did above, but added something I had left out, the riveting testimony of St. Bernard sheriff department’s Sergeant Greg Hauck. This man rode out Katrina’s aftermath with 488 people in Chalmette High School. As the polluted floodwaters entered the buildings, they all took refuge on the higher gymasium floor, where they remained for an incredible 6 days. Hauck said, “I asked Jesus to give me the strength and the courage and the wisdom to get through what I was about to go through. For the first time in my life, I felt Jesus in my heart. He entered me, and I felt it.”

A full-page ad invites the community to the Sunday afternoon service.

Some months ago, I told of the national guardsmen who cleaned out some of our New Orleans schools before returning home, giving special attention to O. P. Walker High School. Today’s front page has a wonderful account of that school which is now, as we say, under new management. It’s a charter school, meaning the legislature took it away from the disfunctional school board and allowed it (and other such schools) to be run by the principal, and the teachers to have the say-so on curriculum. And what a principal they have at Walker in Mary Laurie.

Previously, there were numerous entrances into this school, allowing strangers to walk right in. The metal detectors rarely worked and when one went off, it was ignored. Shootings were commonplace and as many as 20 fights a day were normal. But no more. Mary Laurie is in charge. You show your ID at the single entrance and your name is checked on a list of students barred from entering due to various infractions. Mary Laurie is never in her office during school hours, but up and down the halls, in and out of classrooms. When kids enter in the mornings, she stands at the door calling out, “Good morning.” If they ignore her, she stops them. “Excuse me. I said, ‘Good morning.’ It’s common courtesy to respond.” They mumble back a good morning.

Mary Laurie instituted something no one said would work: daily assemblies. Every person present, no exception. No murmuring in the rows, no back talk. She is in charge. They recite the Pledge of Allegiance, make announcements and promotions, she pep-talks them: “You are second to no one. You are the best!” Hall passes as large as notebooks must be displayed if you are out of class. During the transition between classes, Laurie and her assistant, a former award-winning coach, are in the halls, he with a bull-horn. “You have two minutes, people. Move it.” When the bell rings, the teachers lock their doors. Late to school without a parent’s written permission and you pull Saturday detention.

It’s only the first year of this arrangement, but somebody needs to send Mary Laurie some flowers and congratulate this woman. And we all need to pray for her. She’s putting in 12 hour days, investing in our children.

On the editorial page, the Times-Picayune is staying with a familiar tune: the inability of some congressional leaders to “get it” and the discrepancy between what Louisiana is getting for its residents and what other nearby states are receiving, as a result of the three hurricanes of 2005, Katrina, Rita, and Wilma. Texas, for example. One neighborhood in New Orleans, Gentilly, has more housing damage than the state of Texas incurred. Louisiana had 204,737 homes with major damage. Orleans Parish alone took more damage to homes than Alabama, Florida, Mississippi, and Texas combined. Yet, look at the way the federal government is apportioning rebuilding funds, the editor urges. The editorial ends poignantly: “Many Americans do understand. Their generosity and support have been overwhelming. It’s some members of Congress who seem out of it.”