I’ve known Jason Sampler since 2004 when I first moved to New Orleans for seminary. We were both a part of Edgewater Baptist Church in Gentilly (and students at NOBTS). It took the exile after Hurricane Katrina for us to connect, but since then I’ve considered him a great friend. After we moved back to New Orleans in 2006, he started dating Terah Jolene Fox. One cold and windy February morning he called me up and announced his intention to ask Terah to marry him.

So I found the flowers he’d dropped off at the church, hid them, and then positioned myself behind a box to play paparazzi for the afternoon. Twenty minutes later Jason and Terah arrived at Edgewater. The way Terah tells the story, she had a headache and was not particularly thrilled to be standing there under the tent in the bitter cold New Orleans wind, but she was a trooper. Good thing, too. Because Jason is easily the most long-winded brother I’ve ever known, and even though I’m sure it was only ten minutes, it seemed like he might take an hour to tell her how much he loved her.

She said yes, and they were married the following August. The tenth, actually. Of 2007. They live in Kansas now, and were kind enough to put me up for a night my way back to Fort Worth from Indiana over Christmas this past year. And a few months ago they announced that Peanut Sampler is on his way- coming in October. So here’s to you, Jason and Terah. Congratulations on two years of marriage. Congratulations on the forthcoming Peanut. Thanks for being my friends. See you soon.

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.

Also, they used one of my photos in their post, which is pretty cool, if you ask me. Thanks Intelligent Travel! Check out all my New Orleans photos here.

And so far… He has.

After the service a friend came up to me and said that two Chinese girls were in attendance.  They were open enough to say they weren’t Christians.  They wanted to know what a Bible Study was like, so they came tonight.  They mentioned how different it was and that they were raised believing evolution, and that what I said was new.  One girl said she felt very close to becoming a Christian.

Not because of me.  But because for the last few weeks, God hasn’t let me move past the magnitude of John 1:1-18.  Tonight, we found our hope in the one true living God- the Word, full of grace and truth, who became flesh, lived a perfect life, was brutally massacred on the cross, and on the third day resurrected so that we could have the hope of salvation and worship Him appropriately.

This is what it’s about.  There is nothing more.

We had a team of Baptists from Georgia scheduled to work on our sanctuary for last week. Two weeks ago, we found out that the sanctuary had suffered extreme termite damage over the years. One contractor suggested we tear the building down. (We just put a brand new roof on both of our buildings, so that would have been pretty crappy.) Another contractor said it would cost about $200,000 to fix the damage. That’s about what we have in our building fund, and the goal since the beginning of our rebuilding has been to stay as much out of debt as we can. Basically option two was to spend all of our money to bring it back to the point it’s at now- gutted and empty. Well here’s the neat thing. That team of Baptists scheduled to work last week came down, and four of them were all very knowledgeable in construction. In particular, they knew exactly what to do and how to fix our termite damage. So we told them to go at it, and forget cleaning up after themselves. Spend all their time fixing it and forget the rest. And they did. And our sanctuary is good to go. Termite damage fixed.

We were all very excited about that news. This week our building coordinator said he had all this work to clean up but no workers. Then he ran into someone who said there was a MissionLab group on campus whose week-long plans had been sidelined. There was a mission group staying on campus at NOBTS with nothing to do… until now.

Cool, huh?

1. I don’t think American Christians have any idea what’s going on with the invisible universal Church of Christ (the Body, the Bride) on a global level for the most part.

2. I think they should, so they can pray for their brothers and sisters.

3. Not everything I referred to in those questions is bad.

3a. There are pro-democracy rallies in Nepal, which, if the country becomes a democracy, will open the nation up to the rest of the world. The Maoists have agreed to a three month cease-fire/peace. That’s always a positive thing.

3b. What’s happening in Sudan should be public knowledge because it’s genocide. And neither side (either Christian/animist or Muslim Arab) is doing the right thing. Having said that, good things are happening among the true Christians there. Reports of great evangelists leading entire villages to Christ, coming to America and preaching to American congregations. Amazing.

3c. In China the house churches are awakening to lead the 100 million underground Christians back to Jerusalem. This may take decades, but their vision should be a model for our own lives. Their grace under the oppression of Communist rule should be noted. We have a lot to learn from our brothers and sisters in China, and we should be praying for them- they’re praying for us.

The point is this- we shouldn’t just be watching the news for the sake of know what’s happening in the world. We should be watching the news so we know how we can pray for our brothers and sisters, so we know how to ask God to work in those regions (not always asking for peace, but for courage and persistence).

“Don’t pray for the persecution to stop! We shouldn’t pray for a lighter load to carry, but a stronger back to endure! Then the world will see that God is with us, empowering us to live in a way that reflects his love and power.” -Brother Yun

“God, give us the nations, and do it in such a way that only You get the credit for it.” -The Prayer of Edgewater

I’m grateful for/to friends, the Lipsey Brethren, who have put me up in their homes (Blaize and Ben), are including me on mission road trips (Jonathan), have shared their health concerns with me (Eric), and have shown me the greatest of friendship (all of the above, Justin, Britt, Dave, Kyle [not forgetting his wonderful wife Roni Beth], and Brent.

I’m grateful for/to Liz Stewart, who has shown me what love is, and that I am loved.

I’m grateful for/to Amy Nicholson, who has shown me that life is worship, and that I can become a worship artist. She is a Daughter of Encouragment, a Batnabas?

I’m grateful for/to Clint Crawford, who I think is inside my head, and has shown me that I am not alone.

I’m grateful for/to David Platt, whose love for God and His message has shown me how to live.

I’m grateful for/to Byron Townsend, who took the time to invest his life in mine, and show me that the path is narrow but well worn. I am just one among many on this road, following others I may never see ahead of me.

I’m grateful for Hoot Busby, whose strength in character has shown me that no amount of adversity will stop a follower from the mission set before him.

I’m grateful for/to my family, which has been very willing to put up with me and show support for whatever it is that I’ve gotten my hands into. Even if that isn’t something they fully see yet.

I’m grateful for/to Charles Stanley, First Baptist Church Atlanta, and InTouch Ministries for loving us at NOBTS and giving so willingly to our rebuilding effort.

I’m grateful for/to Jim Shaddix and Riverside Baptist Church in Denver for adopting Edgewater. And to Dr. Shaddix for bringing us this far.

I’m grateful for/to Edgewater Baptist Church and its staff and members for including me in their community of faith. Everywhere I look, I see Edgewater at work.

I’m grateful for/to the one true God who is the creator of all things. I am grateful for creation. For creativity. For life. For love and grace. For peace and joy. For friends and community. For relationships. For the Word. For Your Spirit and for Your Son. I am grateful for Your plan. I am grateful. I am indebted. You have spared me. I am your man for life.

I was thinking about how a lot of us in New Orleans are a band of brothers (and sisters). How we were on the front lines in that city every day. I reflect on that because I think about my band of brothers all the time. And I long for that kind of intimacy and community here. To know that I have people in this place who I trust like I do my friends in New Orleans. You see, in a way, they became my family. We were a different family- but the intimacy was similar. We didn’t know details about each other that our families back home would know, but we were tight. We had something intimate that transcended the details. It felt right. It had a lot to do with the Spirit within us, I think.

And in the midst of it all, I walk away now knowing that I would have died for them, and they for me. And above all that, yes we would die for each other, but more importantly, we would live for each other. I think that’s what the church is all about. I think that’s the kind of intimacy the church should have.

This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers…

-Henry V, William Shakespeare

I think He took us seriously.

New Orleans is underwater. Not all of it, mind you, but most of it. The military is there now trying to regain order. They are trying to get people to safety: to feed them, clean them, clothe them, and give them rest. Real rest. The kind of rest you need after spending a week outside without shelter, food, or clean clothes. The kind you need when you’ve been outside breathing in air that’s almost as thick as the water that flows beneath you. The kind that you need when armed thugs are roaming around you, raping and murdering and looting, so you’ve kept one eye open all night and all day, desperately trying not to die.

Most of us have lost everything we had to our names. Not me, because I only lived in a dorm room on a seminary campus, and I have my car and my computer. I have a few books and my camera. And I have my family in Mobile, Alabama, where I rode out the storm. The stuff I left behind- while costly- is meaningless in the grand scheme of things. Really, I say that, but it might even be meaningless in the small scheme of things too. I’ve had friends lose their cars. Entire families have lost their lives. The media says the city might have lost hundreds of people. Maybe thousands of lives.

New Orleans is one of those cities that had a lot of tension. They call it the Big Easy, but it’s always been a powder keg. Every city can be. But New Orleans is different. The minorities rule. Most of the population lives below the poverty level. Most are on welfare. Up to mid-August or so, the city had already witnessed 180 murders. The city is deeply spiritual, but mostly relative to the whole thing. You’ll find religious mutts everywhere: Catholic Wiccans, Buddhist Agnostics, it’s all good. And untrusting too. The poor don’t trust the rich, and most seminarians are viewed as rich. There is an underlying “me-first” and “you owe-me” attitude in the city. The barriers are high. There was just so much animosity in there. I’m just telling it like I saw it.

“God, give us the nations, and do it in such a way that only You get the credit for it.”

The walls (see levees) of New Orleans are broken. The people are broken. The barriers have fallen. Trust or no trust, everybody is relying on someone else. Their lives whether they like it or not, are in the hands of the ones reaching out. And the city is starting from the underground up. Bowl that it may be, New Orleans is going to rebuild. They are going to restore their buildings and bring their people back. Many will not return; many will. Relationships will be at a prime. It’s like everybody has a clean slate now. There will be those who return who will continue to have nothing to do with people who are different. White folks who will still hold grudges against black folks. Black folks who still hold grudges against white folks.

And that’ll be on them. But we will be the first back. Those of us from Edgewater. We’ll be back. Why? Because we love New Orleans. I’ve never met a group of people so intent on being the hands of God wherever they are. A group of people who were constantly striving to be the face of God on Earth. That’s why we are there. To radiate the light of God throughout that city. During the first week of seminary in chapel, Dr. Kelley, the president of the New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary, reminds us that once upon a time the school was offered to move their campus to the North Shore, well over 20 miles from New Orleans across Lake Ponchatrain. The school responded: “We are a lighthouse, a beacon of light in this city. We’re staying here.” We’ll be back. We’ll be among the first to return to New Orleans Maybe not as a seminary, maybe not in a church building, but we’ll be there. Working and talking, being the hands and the face of God to all we meet. Now is our time.

“God, give us this city, and do it in such a way that only You get the credit for it.”

Done.

Go, we are the church scattered- and don’t you forget- we ARE the church- go out and do what we do. Let our voices be heard, let our faces be seen- let us be NOBTS wherever we are.

To my friends from Edgewater: you know what to do. We are Edgewater- everywhere we go.

Until we meet again in New Orleans.

Love you all.

Joe Kennedy