My life Part VI: Seminary Days
New Orleans was enchanting. I was taken by its charm. It gave me a sense of romance, mystery, and adventure. Sometimes at night, I would be walking on the campus and hear a riverboat whistle. My imagination would take off into some kind of Mark Twain era dream and for a few moments I was back in time.
New Orleans exposed me to sights, sounds, and smells I had not experienced before. I was where I wanted to be and I would be there for at least three years.
I made friends quickly and fell into a routine in quick fashion. I lived in Hamilton Hall and my roommate was a married guy with three children from the Lake Charles area.
Seminary had a different atmosphere from college. People were more involved in life and they came to school to do their classes and then head back to their church field. Some of us did not have churches. I was a first year student just getting my feet wet. I didn't have any connections.
I got a job working on the seminary grounds crew. I worked about 20 hours a week for $2.90 per hour. The work was physical and hard. I swung sledgehammers to break up concrete, dug ditches to run electrical lines, and all of the usual lawn work.
I didn't drive the tractors due to my vision, but I could push a mower just fine. Eventually, I became the small engine mechanic and spent most of my time maintaining and repairing the mowers, blowers, weed eaters, and chainsaws.
Before I entered college, we went to the Social Security office to see if there were any resources for folks with visual impairments. The man said I could probably get disability benefits. I was confused, because I did not consider myself disabled.
After filling out forms and a lot of other red tape, I was granted disability benefits. I got a monthly check in the amount of $250 or so and I was put on Medicare.
This money paid for my college education and was now paying for my seminary education. Deep down, I was embarrassed to be receiving a check on the third of each month, but I don't know how I would have made it during that time in my life without it.
After I graduated from seminary and began working, I notified Social Security and my benefits stopped. I was classified "working in spite of a disability." I know for sure though that I have paid every penny back several times over in taxes.
I was more independent in New Orleans than anywhere I had ever been. The RTA or Regional Transit Authority had a network of busses, ferries, and streetcars that would take me anywhere I wanted to go. The problem was reading the sign on the front of the bus. Several lines used the same bus stop, so you couldn't just hop on any bus. I got around it by checking with the bus driver when I was getting on. "Does this bus go to Canal Street." Some were very friendly and would give me a smile and a complete answer, while others would grunt a yes or no.
I loved the busses, they were my car. I could go when I wanted, stay as long as I wanted, and come home when I felt like it. Poor vision made me humble in many ways, but the New Orleans RTA gave me back a measure of pride.
I had chosen to go to New Orleans in part to explore a different part of the country. Other people and other ways fascinated me. I knew people at the seminary who were afraid of New Orleans. They came to the seminary campus, went to classes, and then left. They wanted no part of New Orleans.
It was true, New Orleans was a big city complete with crime and other social problems, but it was also a beautiful city and interesting in so many ways. I wanted to go places, meet people, and experience what New Orleans had to offer.
The seminary curriculum actually offered just such an opportunity. We were required to take a class entitled "Field Work." Part of the class involved visiting ministry sites around the city. We got to see what was being done to help and minister to the people of New Orleans.
Another part of the class was getting involved in one of those sites. I chose the New Orleans Rescue Mission. It was a men's shelter on Magazine Street one block from Canal Street in the Central Business District (CBD).
This was your basic "last place you would ever want to stay" kind of place. The residents were your stereotypic "down and outers," alcoholics, drug addicts, and the homeless with nowhere to turn.
The mission opened their doors at 4:00 PM. Men would come by and sign up for a bed. There was an intake process, and then they went up to the living area where they could shower. A meager dinner of beans and rice or something along those lines was provided for them and then they could mingle, watch some TV, or just go to bed.
In the morning, the men are fed breakfast, but are then required to leave at 10:00 AM, unless they are in the substance abuse treatment program. This is a standard requirement at most missions. The men are encouraged to find work not lay around a mission all day.
Every night there was a worship service. The director of the mission sometimes led the service, sometimes volunteers would lead, and eventually, I would do the service as part of my time there. The first night, though, I was just there to observe.
Here is a portion of the experience from my journal:
The mission was definitely different for me. I will have to get used to that sort of people; a sort of people that God loves as much as anyone else. It breaks my heart to see people so down and out; to need a place like the mission. The bunkroom reeked of stale vomit that had been disinfected many times over. I am so fortunate - God has blessed me so much.
At the chapel service a laymen, Willie Smith who is a New Orleans bus driver delivered the message. I talked to him for quite a while - he is a good man.
Saturday, August 25, 1979
In a couple of weeks I would have an opportunity to preach to the group. It was no easy task to thik of something to say. What do you tell someone who has nothing? How do you tell them that God loves them even though, they are on the streets? How do you give them hope? Never mind these men no doubt had some hand in their own demise, but what do you say to help?
My journal mentions the text I used for that sermon, but no other details. I used Matthew 14:14, "And Jesus went forth, and saw a great multitude, and was moved with compassion toward them, and he healed their sick." There is certainly a four point sermon in that text.
I. Jesus went forth
II. He saw a great multitude
III. He was moved with compassion toward them
IV. He healed their sick
An important theological concept is the church being the body of Christ. Jesus' body is no longer physically here (on earth). However, His followers (His Church) function as He did.
The work of Christ continues through His Church. When I do something in His name, it is as though Christ is doing it. Those in the Church are His hands and feet. If we do not do the work, the work does not get done.
I was representing Christ at that mission and everywhere I went because I was part of His Church. If you are a Christian you can say the same thing.
The Bible talks about this concept in I Corinthians 12.
I had only been in New Orleans for a month, but I had experienced a lot. I was happy and I felt I was where I was supposed to be and doing what I was supposed to do. I had new friends and I was experiencing new things. The future was unknown, but in an exciting, can't wait for the next thing kind of way.
What else is there? I would find out.
Until the next time
John Strain