A Tale of Two Cities - New Orleans Style

During the break for MLK weekend, I travelled with a group from a local church in Atlanta to New Orleans. If any of you have the opportunity to go down to New Orleans, please do. It's a trip that is well worth the experience and will make a deep impact on your heart. Here is a journal of my reflections upon the Sunday that we spent looking around the city and attending church:

I know that Charles Dickens coined the phrase “A Tale of Two Cities”; but today that is the best description one can give to New Orleans.

The day began with two church services with one unifying feeling of hope. We worshipped with Rayne Memorial at 8:30am, joining them on their 130th Anniversary. Many important members of the Louisiana Conference were there – including the Bishop, the District Superintendent and two former pastors of Rayne Memorial. Callie’s words during the service were thoughtful and profound – every phrase gracefully selected. Callie introduced our group to the congregation, thanking us for all of our work and the immense amount of hope that we bring to the community. During the passing of the peace, one church member echoed these words to me, as she gently stroked my hand and looked in my eyes and thanked me. It was as if she wanted to make sure that I was real – to feel the hope not only in her heart but also in a concrete way.

Bishop Hutchinson’s sermon touched my heart as he brought words from various sources dealing with pain, suffering and the faith that constantly remains in that. He recalled a banner in Baton Rouge that said, “We can’t replace the hopes and dreams of people; but we can build new ones.” A poem by Etta Oldman, “Just Blue,” brought tears to my eyes as the ending read: “I may not have hope but I won’t lose faith.”

At the 11:00 hour, our group worshipped with First Street UMC, a historical African American Congregation that is also the host site for UMCOR. The differences yet similarities between the services were striking. First Street also dealt with the pain of the hurricane but in a way that spoke of determination and hope. Words from Martin Luther King were remembered as the congregation took those passages and applied them to their current situation in New Orleans. Rev. Lance Eden, a recent graduate of ITC Seminary in Atlanta, spoke about keeping watch, about communities taking care of one another, and about rebuilding. Phrases struck me as they were sung with fervor and compassion:
- When things are going bad can you say, “Jesus not my will but your will.”
- Oh Freedom, Freedom, Freedom come and set me free. And before I’ll be a slave, I’ll be buried in my grave. Oh Freedom come and set me free.
- We are all part of God’s body.
- God can do impossible things with ordinary people.
- What are you gonna do with your watch?
The Church service was a lot shorter than usual since the congregation was going to go and see Last Holiday, a movie that was filmed in their church in May.

Before going on our tour of New Orleans, the group ate a delicious meal in the French Quarter, right off of St. Charles plaza. This was my first time in the historic part of New Orleans and it was beautiful! Flowers decorated balconies. Street vendors lined up with their vibrant paintings. People milled about, going in and out of shops and sipping on afternoon drinks. This was definitely a part of New Orleans that was coming back, ready to serve tourists and show the country that they did survive.

However, the rest of the day told a different story. Mark, our group leader from Rayne Memorial, took us to the different areas of New Orleans that were devastated by the levee breaches, including Lakeview, East New Orleans, and the Lower Ninth Ward. As we drove around I wondered how this city would have fared had it only been a hurricane and not the devastation of flooding: Would the Superdome had been such a hellish place to be still? Would month 6 after the hurricane been pretty close to complete recovery? At this point, it is hard to determine exactly what was damage was caused by the hurricane and what was part of the breaches. During our tour, we were also faced with the drastic realities of social and economic inequalities, amidst the non-discriminatory flood. Lakeview is a middle to upper class working neighborhood that was on the broken side of the 17th Street Canal levee breach. Compare that to the East New Orleans area and the Lower Ninth Ward and you receive two different portrayals of areas devastated by flooding. In general (obviously there will be many personal cases that will differ), the Lakeview neighborhood’s homes were very well built and able to stand up to the flood waters. Mark told us that people in this neighborhood were already starting to rebuild.

Drive twenty more minutes and you will find yourself in the Lower Ninth Ward, where tsunami-ish effects have destroyed the neighborhood. We stopped at a house that was moved onto a neighbor’s front yard, leaving the foundation and the back steps as a reminder of where it used to be. Homes were ripped open, moved many yards, squished to a pile of rubble. Trees hold doormats, small trinkets, mailboxes, water coolers. Cars pile on top of one another.

I have seen many areas before that were in need of major repair, but nothing like this. I thought back to the sermons from that morning, trying to find the hope within the scene that I saw before my eyes: where was God within this? Then Malinda noticed how she could hear bird’s chirping. Life…life still decided to remain here even in the great turmoil and piles of debris. It is very similar to the verses in Ecclesiastes 3:1-13:
For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven; a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance… Even in the destruction, the turmoil, and the grief, God resides to restore peace and hope. It’s just like in the sunbeams that came into the house that I like to call God beams – God’s always there, somewhere, someplace, somehow.