New Orleans

I love New Orleans. One big reason I love New Orleans is because I love food and New Orleans is loaded with good food. I can begin the day with some great beignets in the French Quarter. For lunch I can stop at almost any street corner and take my pick from among po-boys, jambalya, gumbo, crawfish etouffie, or just plain red beans and rice. Dinner offers anything my pocketbook can afford including two of my favorite restaurants, Brennens and Broussards.

Music and New Orleans are all part of one wonderful orchestra. Jazz was born there. The Blues still fill the streets. Sunday black churches have music that lifts the soul. For my funeral I would be very happy to have my body accompanied by a traditional street funeral band. And if my Memorial Service were on a Sunday it would be great to have all the mourners go the Quarter for a Gospel Brunch.

But good memories of New Orleans go deeper than food and music. For many years my late brother Harold lived in New Orleans. Harold always inspired me (and he lives in me today) with his commitment to hard work, his unflinching care for the black Lutheran schools of the South and especially for those who taught in them. And on top of that, at the end of every one of his long days he knew that his specially designed refrigerator was stocked with some good cold tap beer for him and any who cared to joined him

Honesty requires that I also share the things that really bother me about New Orleans. It has one of the highest poverty rates of any city in America. Racism is still rampant and blacks are still denied entrance to restaurants, homes on favorite streets and equal opportunity in the work place or in the courtroom.

While I have gone to some very enriching conferences and conventions in New Orleans my mind also often goes to one New Orleans gathering that for me was a disaster. A major Christian Church body adopted a formal resolution that stated that anyone who refused to teach that the world was created in exactly six days of 24 hours each was to “be considered a heretic and not be tolerated within the Church of God.”

But I will try to forget about that this weekend when I head to New Orleans to join the some 100 members of my 8 siblings and our families. We will remember Mom and Dad, honor the memory of brother Harold and enjoy the food, the music, the Gospel and the family. And it will be good!