more fire

(I visit New Orleans in mid-December to learn about the plight of the homeless. The following is a journal entry from my first day there.)

An airline worker woke me up around 7:30 a.m. this morning and told me that if I was going to New Orleans I better take an early flight as a winter storm was heading to New York. I got up, brewed a pot of freshly ground Mud, called the taxi and ate a bowl of granola and yogurt. Thirty minutes later, I was in a taxi on the way to the airport. The plane departed around 10 a.m. There was a layover in Atlanta, but I stayed on the plane. And I arrived in New Orleans by 2 p.m.

My first impressions of New Orleans were forced upon me by billboards advertising nudey bars, fast food and gambling as I rode in the shuttle bus from the airport to my hotel. After checking into the hotel I decided to wander down Canal Street, which was only a few blocks away, and find some good Cajun food. Canal Street, the business district and the French Quarter are very built up. I was told that those districts weren’t affected by Katrina like the Ninth Ward and other working poor neighborhoods had been. The reason being that the Ninth Ward is located in the immediate vicinity of the levee.

I heard a booming voice from a couple of blocks away as I walked down Canal Street. As the voice grew louder I saw that it was a street preacher. We struck up a conversation and I encouraged him in the Lord’s work and even prayed over him. Little did I know that this initial meeting would lead to five hours of fellowship and evangelism.

The street preacher’s name is Brother Keith and he’s been preaching in New Orleans for thirty years. He has also evangelized in almost every state in the U.S. (including Alaska) and two other countries. Bro. Keith has a salt-and-pepper afro, a busted out front tooth and a joy that only Jesus can give. I asked him if he knew a reasonably priced restaurant with good local food and he pointed me to Joe’s. He offered to join me and together we went to Joe’s.

Everyone seemed to know him and many referred to him simply as “Preacher.” At Joe’s I ordered a pound of rib tips and Bro. Keith ordered ribs (the owner footed his bill). Before eating he asked me to pray for us and after praying the owner asked if we would pray for her as well. I prayed and then Bro. Keith prayed a mighty prayer for her, her restaurant (which is a relatively new business) and the poor and hungry of the world. It was some of the best rib tips I’d eaten in a long time. (New York doesn’t have many, if any, good barbecue places).

After eating I told him that I wanted to visit City Hall and talk with the homeless people who’ve been camping on the City Hall’s lawn since July. We walked there and arrived just as the sun set. There were well over 100 tents sprawled over the lawn and one person told me that the most recent headcount was 171 homeless people living there. Across from the lawn were hummers and other military vehicles owned by the National Guard. One homeless man told me that the city is still under martial law and the National Guard has as much authority as the police.

Tents in Duncan Plaza

Bro. Keith sat and talked with people on a park bench as I wandered around the lawn and met people. I simply listened to their stories, encouraged them and prayed over them. I met a group of people, three guys and a woman, sitting outside their tents. The woman said she’d been there for six months. They’ve all been homeless since the storm. They said that there is crime and violence every night on the City Hall lawn and last week a man was stabbed to death for trying to skip ahead in the chow line. The man pointed to a section near a forested area that lurked ominous and told me that’s where the drug users stay. I walked there and sensed the utter desperation of the people and prayed for them. They laid, almost lifeless, on the lawn and muttered to each other in hushed tones. Everyone I met received me warmly and welcomed my prayers.

Several of the homeless people told me that the City is forcing them to leave by Monday. There were signs posted around the lawn, but it was too dark for me to read them. The park has very limited lighting and some areas are completely dark. The population of homeless is single adults and some couples. After walking around the lawn and praying with the outcasts, despised, poor and lonely, I returned to meet Bro. Keith. We returned to Canal Street and he asked if I wanted to get coffee to which I gladly agreed.

We went to McDonald’s, I ordered a coffee and he got water. He told me he lives in his brother’s trailer and hasn’t lived in a home since Katrina. He told me that he preaches to the kids every morning as they go to school, then he takes an hour coffee break, and then he preaches for the rest of the day on the corner where I initially met him.

After getting a coffee we returned to Joe’s restaurant to pick up his megaphone, bicycle and bag and then we went to Arby’s to plug in his laptop computer and use the Internet connection from the Sheraton, located across the street. He asked me to show him some good Websites that have audio sermons and an online Bible. I hooked him up and even gave him a link to my blog, More Fire. Although some might consider Brother Keith to be an eccentric street preacher who occasionally dances to the Lord on Canal Street, I thank God for softening my heart and opening my eyes to meet this sanctified man of God who is the very image of a Christ-indwelled saint.

It was getting late and both he and I were tired, so we parted ways. We did exchange info and I’m sure I’ll see him over the next couple of days while I’m in New Orleans. God is good and provides guides in lost lands. Praise Him!