Rooted in Praise . . .There is No Distinction

On Sunday we worshiped at St. John Baptist. Pastor Boutte greeted our group inside the door with warm words and embrace. He asked me to join him and Pastor Clifford Jones up front for worship leadership--a blessing and privilege.
While Don and I were still in his office preparing, worship was commencing. I heard Pastor Jones exhorting the congregation, with their voices rising in what would be just their initial offerings.
The entire service was rooted in praise. Everything began in praise of God!
This is exciting and thought-provoking. Imagine a worship experience that begins not in what you or I expect to receive but in what we have brought to offer. And that no matter what the varied circumstances of our life may be at a particular time (joy, anticipation, pain, sorrow, excitement, listlessness), in all circumstances we are set free to open ourselves and lift voice, heart, and soul to one who is Creater, Redeemer, Sustainer, and Comforter. In that open-ness is the opportunity to receive "far more than we can ask or imagine."
At St. John the choir sits behind the Pastors, the loft rising up several rows high. I noted that through the early parts of the service choir members continued to arrive and this energetic group grew. Music flowed throughout the service, each hymn an expression of praise and prayer and testimony.
During one hymn, as each verse lifted us higher and higher, I looked out and saw our St. Andrew's folk on their feet, clapping, dancing, and singing like Baptists! I remembered the words of the Apostle Paul that in Christ "there is no distinction (Romans 10:12)." We were not two congregations now, but one, accompanying one another toward a common future. God's will was being made known!
We were thrilled to realize that Kendra, one of the women who had prepared the bountiful meals for us as we worked, and who had joined us at the table, was being baptized this Sunday!! As we witnessed her immersion in the water, some may have been moved to consider our own immersion into the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus our Lord.
When she returned to her seat, Pastor Boutte spoke to her about the steadfast love of Jesus that would be hers in all circumstances. He then invited the congregation to come up out of their pews and gather around the altar (which is at floor level in front of the raised pulpit) for the Altar Prayer. As they did this he called everyone to sing "Jesus Loves Me." In the midst of the singing I offered the altar prayer as Pastor Boutte had asked. Song and Prayer wove together and by the Spirit were lifted.
As we sang a hymn prior to the Pastor's sermon, Don and Clifford knelt together holding hands, and Clifford prayed for Donald, and for the realization of the living Word, fervently. Don preached a powerful sermon out of a text from Deuteronomy, and the community responded demonstrably. The experience of being led by the Spirit is mutual: pastor and congregation are together in-spired.
At the end of the service was the traditional "altar call," which is new to us "reformed" folk, where those who may feel moved are invited to come forward and make the decision to commit their lives to Jesus, in that moment, in the midst of the congregation. This is part of every Sunday service at a church like St. John. No one came forward this particular Sunday, but the "door will be open" next week as well.
I am very interested in the thoughts and reflections of our other missionaries about the connections and differences in our worship traditions. We all seemed fulfilled by worship. What moved you most deeply?What kinds of things might our congregations share with each other?
A last memory I would like to offer. Although the service had distinct parts in it, like our service, one part flowed right into the next, as music overlapped the boundaries and as the worship leaders conversationally invited the people from one step to the next. In the midst of one transition, Hezekiah, the organist and choir director, offered a reflection. As he was speaking, I realized that his eyes were not on the choir but on me (I think he was speaking to all of us): "You don't know how much the little things you do matter to others."
Amen to it all!!!

Mission Takes Us Deeper

On Friday afternoon, our second full day, we completed building the Community Garden. It was a time for rejoicing, even while being astounded at how far and fast we had come! Mission accomplished, we shouted, arms upraised. We had worked so well together, and to great effect. Being hot and tired felt really good.
At lunch that day my friend Charles and his wife Thirawer had come to St. John to join us for lunch. I was thrilled to see Charles again, and to meet the life partner he had talked so much about. Two years ago, it was Charles who had first told me about Churches Supporting Churches, and its plan--through partnership and God's leading--to rebuild devastated neighborhoods in New Orleans around faith communities (http://www.cscneworleans.org/). I had spent a weeklong conference retreat with three NOLA pastors--Charles Duplessis, Eric Rhodes, and Marvin Turner. When I returned to St. Andrew's, I shared the news and vision with the congregation, and we took steps to join CSC. At lunch, Charles and Thirawer told me that they had been able to move into their rebuilt home in the Lower Ninth Ward in March, three-and-one-half years after Katrina. Their CSC partner congregation, Flossmoor Community Church, helped resource the rebuilding, and volunteer labor from Mennonite Disaster Relief, another CSC partner, made this a reality. I asked Charles and Thirawer if we could visit, and they immediately invited us over for that evening.
We hurriedly had supper at the Mission House. When we started up the van, everyone was on board! This was no small thing. All had worked very hard and were tired, though gratified. Two days before, we had been in the Lower Ninth and had returned in silence, deeply impacted, even overwhelmed, but what we had seen. From my own personal experiences, I know that it is very tempting in such a circumstance to find a reason, almost any plausible reason, not to return to a painful reality. Yet everyone was there. I was deeply grateful for their faithfulness and solidarity. Knowing this group, I probably shouldn't have expected any less. Such love and regard I feel for each one of them!
We arrived at the Duplessis house and were delighted to realize we had seen it on Wednesday. It was situated in the midst of the striking new homes, the "signs of new life," that we had seen on Tennessee Avenue.
Charles and Thirawer welcomed us warmly, gathering us in in a circle in their living room. They had enough seats for all of us, as it is in their living room and dining room that the Mt. Nebo congregation now gathers on Sunday for worship. About thirty of the one hundred twenty member congregation are still here, and for three and a half years they had met for worship once a month at one member's home on the West Bank. Charles and Thirawer had been communting from Tuskegee, Alabama, five hours away. Now they are back in the Lower Ninth.
We asked them to share their story with us, which they did, lovingly and carefully, for more than an hour. I looked around a number of times at our folks, who were listening with care, leaning forward, opening themselves. We were on a journey, being transformed from a kind of missionary "tourism" to brother/sisterhood in the same inseperable family.
They told us of the thirty-eight person caravan from New Orleans to Tuskegee at the advent of the storm and the countless challenges involved. They talked of their neighbors, some of whom died in the storm. Charles pointed to the levee two blocks away, describing how inadequate and faulty construction, and an unmoored barge, had led to the levee break. Charles and Thirawer and their neighbors were not able to return to their devastated houses, churches, and neighborhood until more than two months after the hurricane! Congregation members and neighborhood residents were dispersed throughout the country. Mortality rates among survivors are very high.
Nearly 60% of the residents of the Lower Ninth own their own homes, but insurance and Going Home funds typically fall far short of what is needed to rebuild. Organizations like Make It Right (and, for Charles and Thirawer, partnerships like CSC) help to bridge and overcome such barriers.
When the Duplessis's finished their story, Charles reminded us that thousands of people had stories that needed to be told--and heard. There is healing present in such connection.
Charles told us about Mt. Nebo Church and its role in the larger community, especially among children. The rebuilding of their church building on Flood Street will now be a major focus.
I asked Charles if the original vision of Churches Supporting Churches, of rebuilding communities around their churches (in sixteen square block areas) was still alive in the Lower Ninth. His eyes shined with faith and hope.
When we said goodbye that evening, I think many of us believed we will be seeing Charles and Thirawer again, in the midst of their resurrected neighborhood. The ride back was quiet again, but teh conversation was full of life as we gathered in the kitchen at Hands-On. One mission accomplished. Another being revealed.

Epistle to the Perkasians

Pastor Donald Boutte of St. John Baptist Church sent a pastoral letter to us a week or so after our delegation returned home. In it, Don begins to interpret the meaning and impact of our work:

"The seed of your labor has already begun to develop fruit. Your work has sparked the interest of many of the residents and some have asked how they could be helpful in maintaining the garden. Thus, we have been able to begin the discussion of health lifestyle choices within the community. This is a direct result of the attractive structures the team constructed. Thank you for sharing in our vision of holistic ministry."

Pastor Boutte also testifies to how the Spirit of God is moving through our growing partnership:

"The psalmist declares: "how good and how pleasant the dwelling of the brethren--even together!" (Psalm 133:1). Our church will forever cherish the time . . .that we shared together. It was great to share meals and to get to know more about the ministries of each church. I am so thankful to God that Chuck was so tenacious in making the dream a reality. . ."
Here is testimony that holy scripture comes alive in us and through us! As I read Don's gracious letter, I am reminded that the New Testament Epistles began just this way: as pastoral letters to specific churches, often pointing to and celebrating the deep and inspired connections between faith communities (for instance, read 2 Corinthians).

So I'd to suggest that we re-read the first lines from Don's "epistle" and imagine that they are biblically referenced as Perkasians 1:2-5. What is the Spirit saying to the church? What is it saying to each of us who are being discipled in the midst of this mission partnership? And what is God's vision of holistic ministry that includes both of us?
Toward the conclusion of the letter, we are pointed collectively toward the living out of new chapters:

"I look forward to coming to Perkasie in October 2009 . . . We pray that God will continually bless the ministry at St. Andrew United Church of Christ."

Amen!

From Blueprint to Embodiment

On Thursday morning we eagerly undertook the building of the planned Community Garden behind the St. John Baptist Church building in the Leonidas/West Carrollton area of New Orleans.
Don Boutte, a respected leader among the New Orleans clergy, is senior Pastor at St. John. The dynamic Clifford Jones assists.
Chuck and Greg had come to NOLA a week or two before to prepare the lumber for our project, line up soil, rent trucks, etc. They did an amazing job.
With an inspired vision, careful plan, common will, and shared faith, we came together. Everyone offered what they had. We practiced teamwork, encouraged one another, and discovered what was possible. Among my cherished memories are:

--Greg's moving to the forefront of each effort
--Derek's quiet determination and heavy lifting
--Colleen covered with more dirt than anyone else!
--Brittany's shepherding, with the heart of a young social worker
--Sheila rooting all our efforts in prayer
--Karen (who loves hammering) overseeing our health and self-care, having us report to her
--Lolly's encouragement and the care-ful practice of friendship

--Debra up and ready for work at 5:30 AM; the twinkling in her eye when she would see a photographic subject
--Brian's incredible industry, and his gentle smile
--Shirley's laughter, and excellent questions
--Ken's partnership in work and planting with Jermaine, a young boy from the neighborhood
--Chuck's amazing leadership

Very often, in this kind of project, the skilled workers want to do most of the work so that it is "perfect." But God is not concerned with perfection; rather, God loves wholeness. "Be whole, as your heavenly Father is whole (Matthew 5:48)." While our skilled people were incredibly dedicated, we discovered that this project took everyone to become what it was, and some of the greatest ingredients were intangible.
Our hosts prepared delicious, abundant meals for us at lunchtime (spicy fried chicken, red beans and rice, jambalaya, bread pudding). The meals would be blessed with a hymn, sung heartily, and then a prayer. And we were blessed.

Venturing Further

Travelling through the Upper Ninth, across the Industrial Canal and into the communities beyond, we saw many houses still boarded up four years after the storm, with the "X's" marked on the front from the search and recovery teams, info indicating who searched, hazards, people or casualties found, etc. It was very sobering.

The Lower Ninth Ward impacted us deeply. Once one of the city's most densely populated areas, nearly 60% of the residents owned their own homes, with many families residing here for generations. Now the majority of the neighborhood is gone. A few restored homes dot the landscape, with some irreparably damaged structures remaining as well. They are dwarfed by large expanses of green fields, marked only by concrete pads where houses used to stand, or steps rising up to nothing.

On Flood Street we got out and walked. In one block there were three destroyed church buildings. The pad was all that was left of the Mt. Nebo Bible Baptist Church building, where my friend Charles Duplessis has pastored (see above). Up the block to the east is the Morning Star Baptist Church building, gutted but with pews still lined up in the interior (though not in their original order). Back across the street was the sanctuary of the Antioch Spiritual Church, its brick structure damaged and empty of worshippers, but with a little statue of Jesus sitting free on the lawn. Closer to the street, spraypainted messages offered the pastor's phone number for those seeking him or others who used to live and worship in this place.

Our folks began to wonder: Where are the people whose lives were grounded in common life on this street? How many are still longing to come home? What did the neighborhood surrounding these three churches look like prior to Katrina? What did people share on a daily basis? Where will the good news once proclaimed from these church pulpits now to be embodied? Our lives were being drawn closer together.

We were shaken by the realization that if this were New Hope, Pennsylvania (or another Delaware River town) four years after a flood, or a midwestern town that had been flattened by one of hundreds of annual tornados, the place, and the residents lives, would already be substantially rebuilt --with a great deal of help! . One would hear very few outside suggestions that "It would be better if Yardley wasn't rebuilt--it may just flood all over again."

As we left our eyes were drawn to some striking new home construction along Tennessee Avenue. Could these be a sign of promised new life?

Our boisterous, enthusiastic group was very quiet all the way back to the Mission House in Mid-City.

Unpacking and Making Room

Everyone brought things with them. Things to unpack. Things to share. Things to discover. Things to bless. Even things to let go of.

As we arrived at Louis Armstrong International Airport, I'm sure that each of us was aware what was in our suitcases. We might not have been quite so clear about other things we were bringing, and how they might be called forth, distributed, and celebrated. That's where the Holy Spirit of God comes in!

Thirteen of us had gone to New Orleans on our mission trip. Christian mission seeks to make God known. Mission engages the planting, nurturing, and growing of communities---communities rich in the life and spirit of Jesus! It has been described as a "world-changing movement," because it is always about transformation. Jesus' Great Commission is the call to his followers to make disciples among all people, everywhere. H. Russel Botman, pastor from South Africa, describes Christian mission as "hope in action."

So how would we "missionaries" be part of "making God known?" What seeds of community would be planted, nurtured, and even start to grow? How would disciples be shaped as a result of our trip? In what ways would hope become real and embodied? Would the world change, and would we? These are the questions whose answers took shape over our six days together.

After arriving, we went to the Hands On New Orleans Mission House to drop our luggage and set up housekeeping. Hands On New Orleans runs a house of hospitality for volunteers from all over who come to NOLA to work on different recovery projects.

Chuck had us leave our baggage behind, and wanted to introduce us to New Orleans. He took us east to St. Bernard Parish and theLower Ninth Ward, two of the hardest hit areas from Hurricane Katrina.

I'd like to ask the participants in our delegation:

--What were your original reasons for participating in this trip? What were you expecting or hoping for?

--How was the experience different than you expected?

--What did you discover? Let go of?

--How did this experience impact your own discipleship?