This is the last blog I’m writing from New Orleans. I have a few scheduled for the coming days because I’ll be trying to move things to Mobile then to Fort Worth, and I’m not sure how often I’ll be able to post. Today is one day shy of fulfilling my second full year in New Orleans post-Katrina.
I barely remember my first day of classes back in August 2004. I know I had a roommate who flew in from Korea just days before, speaking virtually no English. I went to chapel for the first time that day, and it would be one of less then five times I’d go throughout my seminary career. I mentioned the now cliche’ statistic that 89% (it’s up to 91%) of Southern Baptist Churches are plateaued or declining. Four years later and I’ll miss hearing Dr. Kelley make use of his ancient Hebrew word: “Wow!”
I spoke about leaving NOBTS after just one semester, but by October I knew I was where I needed to be. The Spring semester was better, and I had the opportunity to hear NT Wright and John Dominic Crosson speak about the resurrection of Jesus. It was probably one of the greatest lectures I’ve ever heard. I’ve had a good seminary experience, despite a lot of the complaints I’ve made about how much better things could have been. There’s always room for improvement, but I can walk away from here satisfied that even if I didn’t learn everything I thought I would in class, the last four years’ experience taught me more than I ever imagined.
I lived in New Orleans when the worst natural disaster in United States history occurred. The events of that period still feel like they were yesterday. My mentor and his wife were in the hospital downtown watching their first son being born just two days prior to the landfall of Hurricane Katrina. The fear and confusion of that period is something I can’t forget. I think we all learned so much during that time. For all the talk of being “the church scattered,” I truly began to grasp the gravity of what that means. The last line of my scattered post was, “Pray for the city. It’s grown on me, I’d like it to still be there when I go back.”
It wasn’t, and sometimes I can’t help but feel like the last couple years have shaved off a few from the end of my life. They say seminary is one of the dryest times in your spiritual life. I agree. Coming back after Katrina was just that much harder. I have so many friends who had such more complicated situations moving back, but they did. Nothing I experienced was as difficult as those who struggled to bring their families back into a post-Katrina New Orleans, search for a suitable home, and pursue God’s mission here. I’ve got a lot of heroes among those I’ve known here. You can read the post I wrote on the second anniversary of Katrina, and what I had to say last June, having been back in New Orleans for a year after Katrina.
But there’s more to my New Orleans experience than seminary and the flood. One of the most significant aspects to my time here has been as a member of Edgewater Baptist Church. It’s not a perfect church, but it’s the best church family I’ve ever been a part of. My first semester here I became a member, leaving behind what was a difficult and frustrating time in Mobile. Through Edgewater I joined a small group that became the support I needed to make it through the first year in New Orleans and in seminary. Those brothers (and sisters) of mine were such a huge reason I came back after Katrina, and I owe them such a huge debt of gratitude. After four years, there’s no question that the New Orleans I’ll miss most has Edgewater at its center.
Edgewater has always had a large group of seminary students, which makes its membership pretty transient. One of the traditions at Edgewater that impressed me was that when a member left, the church body gathered around that person, laid hands upon that person, and prayed as a church body for the person and ministry. I don’t know if a lot of other churches do that (my past experiences say they don’t), but I know it made an impact on me then, and still does today. This past Wednesday night was my night. It was just as humbling and just as much an honor as I thought it would be. I’m going to miss them greatly.
It seems easy to experience something new every day in New Orleans. Friday night I drove through City Park on my last errand before the move. Just south of City Park in the Esplanade area of Mid-City, as the legend goes, someone let out their parrots, which took up residence in the trees along the avenue. My last new thing as a resident of New Orleans was seeing a flock of parrots on the side of the road in the middle of City Park.
So long, New Orleans. Thanks for that last new experience. The next chapter begins. Fort Worth, here I come.
by Joe Kennedy
13 comments