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A Sunday to Remember
A Visit to Carrollton Avenue for the First Worship Service after the Flood
by Rob Frasier
 I arrived at the Carrolton Ave church right on time. The service was outdoors on the small patio in front of the church building. It was very moving, being that for many it was the first time they had seen each other in seven weeks since the storm scattered their lives and homes all over the country side. The service had to compete the sounds of passing trucks and construction crews making repairs on the building across the street, but I don't think a single soul was distracted from the worship and thanksgiving for being able to make a new start by meeting again as the Body of Christ.
The communion table was set in the middle of the patio, right on the street. The church filed by from their seats, taking the cup and the bread. Because there were more people there than they originally planned, they asked that couples share their cup so that there would be enough for all. Taking the Supper there from Dixie cups and a basket, there on the street in New Orleans, in the mild warmth of a gorgeous October morn, with Christians who had seen their faith tested and had come to assemble again — indescribable.  And in the middle of the Lord's table, rescued from the muck of one of the member's home, was a plaque that read, "If you have faith as a mustard seed, nothing will be impossible to you." It was very moving, indeed.
The sermon was a message from a member who had barely escaped with his life and spent days on the I-10 bridge waiting for rescue. His story was gripping, but his faith was inspiring. He told us that he dared to die for God, that he told the Lord that he would either bless him tonight by taking him home, or bless him in the days to come by witnessing the power of God. He retold how he set up an impromptu devotional with those fleeing the flood on the I-10 bridge, the same bridge where drug deals were taking place in plain site of those seeking refuge. He told of how a woman heard them singing and took heart, saying, "They are having church right here on the bridge." He reminded us that each of us, every day, need to "have church" wherever we are and in whatever we do. There is no preaching school in the world that could have polished or improved that man's message from the heart. It was very inspiring and humbling at the same time.
As the service ended, several people were introduced as relief workers. There were volunteers from a church on the "North Shore" (of Lake Pontchartrain) from Mandeville down for "house mucking" and another couple was from a church in Kentucky that was down to do an assessment about how their congregation could help. I also heard of a team from Boston that was planning to come to offer their help. I was asked to introduce myself and tell the church who I was and what I was doing in Louisiana. That was very emotional for me, having stood in their soggy shoes before and seeing all one's material things in a soaked, muddy mess.
I relayed the story of when Karen and I — after all our insurance problems, on top of being ripped off by a contractor, with my commuting once every three weeks from DC, and while suffering one delay after another — finally sat in our driveway and laughed at it all. We just told Satan that he could keep throwing his punches, giving us his most wicked shot, but we weren't going to break, bend or give in. Even got me an amen or two! We declared that our house is built upon the Rock and the gates of hell will not prevail against it. And shortly after that declaration, things got better and we made it to the end of the tunnel — to moving back into our home. I also reassured those there it will be and does get better — they just have to hold fast and to be firm. Like I said, it was very emotional.
While there, I took the time to take a few shots of the congregation — there on a beautiful October morning, celebrating the resurrection of our Lord and the resurrection their church.
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