“I Love New Orleans”
New Orleans is a place that evokes a strong emotional reaction from people. Not many people feel “meh” or “so-so” about the Big Easy. You either adore this city or you hate it. You consider it the cultural epicenter of the South or a hub of debauchery. For this reason, New Orleans residents often feel the need to defend their city from slander. The “NOLA vs Everybody” message found on countless t-shirts is real. At this very moment there is a Saints fan sending a taunting text message to their cousin in Atlanta.
If you stay here long enough, you will inevitably hear people say, “I love New Orleans.” In my experience, “I love New Orleans” is said by two different types of people: consumers and producers*. For some, the city is just an off-beat place with great food, incredible music, and second lines on Sunday afternoons. The culture of the city is perceived as a product to be consumed. For others, “I love New Orleans,” is said with a smile on their face but pain in their heart. They love New Orleans because they want the best for their flawed city, and they are doing their best to make it better. They love New Orleans because it’s home.
“Let love be genuine. Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good” (Rom. 12:9). Real love is complex. Genuine love is more than a feeling, but it is also more than holding your nose and going through the motions. You can say that you “love a person but don’t like them,” but generally speaking, the person will pick up on the dislike and feel unloved. The same goes for places. To love a city, town, or community is to open your heart to all its blessings and quirks. Having your teeth rattle as you drive down Bienville Avenue might not be the highlight of your day, but if you choose to love New Orleans, the condition of our streets becomes more like your uncle’s irritating laugh at Thanksgiving. Grating on your nerves? Probably. But also the source of countless jokes and good-natured ribbing.
Genuine love does not, however, offer a blanket endorsement for all behavior. Real love abhors what is evil. I love New Orleans, but loving anything means hating that which hurts the beloved! I despise the blatant disregard for life in our city, and I detest going to the funerals of middle school boys. My chest burns with anger when I think of the epidemic of fatherlessness in the ten-block radius around our house. I abhor a sex industry that treats the selling of human bodies as a tourist attraction. I hate when leaders fail to seek the good of the city and seek their own interests at the expense of citizens.
Nevertheless, genuine love holds fast to what is good. That means holding fast to young men made in the image of their Creator. Love gets complicated because many people know both the murdered and the murderer. Love might be mentoring a middle schooler for the next three years, and it might be prison visits for the next twenty. Holding fast to what is good means going to the clubs with open arms and the gospel, because as the ladies at Inward would say, “Jesus loves Bourbon Street.” Love means continually praying for our leaders to govern well and promote what is good and true in God’s eyes.
I long for Harvest Church to love New Orleans as producers, not consumers. Standing at a distance and offering critique is not enough. God has uniquely equipped every member in our congregation to faithfully serve our city. Every Monday, people scatter into different professions. They work as nurses, construction salesmen, ice cream scoopers, and graphic designers, and each one has an opportunity to do work that is beautiful, good, and true. There is no such thing as meaningless or anonymous work for them because they work for King Jesus. They are salt and light, sprinkled to preserve from decay and shined to expose the darkness.
Their homes are hubs of production as well. The dinner table that frequently seats both sinners and saints is a window into the kingdom of God. The mom who teaches her children to love good books and love their neighbor even more is forming the moral universe of the next generation. The husband who cherishes his wife as Christ cherishes the church paints a visible picture of an invisible reality. All too often, their work of love is frighteningly mundane.
I love New Orleans because this city has become home, but I mainly love New Orleans because Jesus loves New Orleans more than I ever could. With his own blood on the cross, he has purchased a people from this city. Even as you read these words, the Spirit is preparing a pure and spotless Bride for him. One day the King will return, and New Orleans will be made exactly as God intended. The glory of the Lord will fill every nook, cranny, and pothole to the brim. Justice will be served. Tears will be wiped away. Death will be no more. Christ will dwell with his people forevermore.
If Jesus loves New Orleans enough to include it in the New Creation, how should we respond in the here and now? At Harvest Church, we are just part of the welcoming committee. We want New Orleans to be as ready as possible to meet Jesus on that day. In the meantime, a labor of love has been set before us. Our shoulders might shake from laughter, sorrow, and anger before the work is done, but no matter the cost, Jesus is worth it.
Andrew Hanna
*To give credit where credit is due, the distinction between culture consumers and culture producers comes from Matthew Delaughter, who heard it from a social worker in New Orleans.
