Text: John 10:1-10; Acts 2:42-47; Psalm 23

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!