Abundant Life—After Katrina. Homily for April 13, 2008
Last Sunday, Joanne & I
had the privilege of worshipping in Christ Church Cathedral, New Orleans, on the occasion of the 55th
annual North American Deans’ Conference. This is now the sixth conference I
have attended, each one unique. In most cases, the local cathedral presents
itself and its ministry “in context,” giving us a fresh perspective on the
nature of Cathedral ministry as it is practiced in a variety of places.
The New Orleans conference was booked a year before
Hurricane Katrina. A conference in the “Big Easy” before Katrina would certainly
have been very different from what we experienced last week. In some very
important ways, the Cathedral’s ministry has changed, because the context has
been fundamentally altered.
The physical landscape is
one thing: we saw whole neighbourhoods which had been leveled, we saw every
second school boarded up, we saw high rise condos sitting vacant, and country-club
mansions abandoned. By the best estimates, New Orleans has lost at least 200,000 in
population since the storm, people who have essentially vanished, probably
never to return, usually because they have nowhere to come home to. But
remember that physical landscapes create cultural and psychological landscapes.
Reading the local paper was sobering: almost every page had at least one
reference to Katrina. Living with a constant reminder of loss affects people
deeply. We were told that New Orleans has the
highest incidence in North America of
post-traumatic stress disorder, affecting people throughout the city.
Given the devastation and
social upheaval New Orleans
has experienced, one might reasonably expect it to be a very sad place, grimly
facing at least another decade of reconstruction. On the contrary: while four
days is hardly enough time to get the real pulse of a place, I came away with
the impression of a people who were dealing with their problems in a remarkably
positive way.
We learned that the people
of New Orleans responded
to disaster by drawing on their unique culture, which is based on music and
food, summed up by the French expression “Laissez
les bon temps rouler!”
We heard a concert and a
sermon from Irvin Mayfield, New
Orleans’ official cultural ambassador and artist in
residence at Christ Church Cathedral. Irvin told us, with both his trumpet and
his voice, that the spirit of a people of hope can never be extinguished. He challenged
us to get in touch with our passion—and to really live life as God intended it.
That passion, that zeal for
life, that embracing of all God intends for his people—I believe that is what brought
the people of New Orleans
through a disaster we here can hardly begin to fathom. Life is a hard teacher
at times, but the hardest lessons are often the most important. What did the
hurricane and its aftermath teach? In the words of today’s Gospel, the response
of the people of New Orleans
shows that they understand “abundant life.”
Jesus said,
I came that they may
have life, and have it abundantly.
What does it mean to have
life abundantly? One thing we can surely say is that it does not mean having an
abundance of “stuff.” It has nothing to do with how much we have, and
everything to do our attitude to what we do have. It has a great deal to do
with community.
We heard the story of a
little “Mom & Pop” restaurant that suffered severe damage in the flood. The
owners were getting on in years. At first they felt that this was a sign for
them to quit the business. But people said to them “You have to open. You can’t
quit!” And so they scraped together some equipment, and got hold of whatever
supplies they could find, and opened up again. That little diner became a focal
point of the rebuilding of its neighbourhood. People would gather outside,
waiting in line for hours at a time for whatever might be on offer that day,
talking, laughing, and crying together—re-building their community day by day.
The food wasn’t abundant,
but the life was—and so it remains—people coming together, helping each other—truly
being community. These abundant life stories of New Orleans resonate deeply for me with the
abundant life story of the beginning of the church, as people came together in
response to the Spirit’s leading, supporting each other in the great enterprise
upon which they were embarking. The people of New Orleans had a city and community to
rebuild. Just so, the early church had a community to build—the Body of Christ,
the people of God.
Although New Orleans may never again be quite what it was
before Katrina, rebuilding has brought it a new pride and a deepened sense of
community. By the grace of God the same can be true of any community which lays
hold of God’s call to live the abundant life—the life of sharing, of supporting
and helping each other, the life of gratitude, lived in the celebration of God’s
true abundance.
Wherever and however we find
ourselves, whether in New Orleans or hurricane-free Brandon; whether we’re wealthy
or poor or just “comfortable,” God calls us to look to what is really important—the
building of holy community, founded on care for each other, on respect for
life, and on gratitude to the one who made us all.
Spending these few days in New Orleans was a humbling
experience, but also a profoundly encouraging experience. We saw what God can do
with very little—except the faith of his people whose hearts run over with love.
You spread a table
before me in the presence of those who trouble me; you have anointed my head
with oil, and my cup is running over.
God has filled our cups to
overflowing, equipping us for the building up of the community of God. Let us keep
God’s generosity always before us as guide and example, opening our hearts in
gratitude to all of God’s people.
Thanks be to God!