Public housing ought to be for the public. One of the strangest developments after Hurricane Katrina was the closing and fencing of public housing developments. These multistory buildings sometimes had flood damage in the lower floors, but upper floors escaped with relatively little damage. Upper levels of two-story or three-story apartment buildings could have been partially rehabilitated with relative ease, leaving time to finish the rehabilitation of the lower floors as additional residents could find jobs and return. Instead, the powers-that-be chose to lock the gates on public housing, assist homeowners and not renters, and waste the taxpayers' investments at a time when they are greatly needed.

Colorofchange.org is addressing this issue by supporting U.S. Senate action on HR 1227, which would fund repair and opening of minimally damaged public housing units. The quotation below is partly written by colorofchange.org (first two paragraphs) and partly personalized by me. It is an important concern for New Orleans. Some people clearly do not want the low-income residents to return. That makes no sense in a hospitality and service oriented economy like New Orleans. Home ownership is a goal many of us want to pursue through groups such as Habitat for Humanity, but in the meantime, renters need a decent place to live.

Dear Senators Vitter and Landrieu,

Last month the House of Representatives passed HR 1227--the Gulf Coast Hurricane Housing Recovery Act of 2007. It promises to reopen desperately needed public housing units and ensure that there is no loss of affordable public housing in New Orleans. HR 1227's passage is critical if the idea that all New Orleanians, regardless of race or class, are welcomed home is to be meaningful.

Now that the bill is in the Senate, your leadership is critical. Several senators are behind the bill, but they have said that without the senators from Louisiana in the lead, the bill will go nowhere. As a concerned American, I’m asking that you show leadership and urge the Senate Committee on Banking, Housing, and Urban Affairs to take up HR 1227, immediately.

I have been to the Central City to assist pastors such as Rev. Aldon Cotton of Jerusalem Baptist Church, Rev. Marvin Turner of Mt. Ararat Missionary Baptist Church, Rev. Donald Boutte of St. John's Missionary Baptist Church, and Rev. Sam Johnson of Corinthian Missionary Baptist Church No. 2. I have seen the need for housing, and I have seen the empty housing units. This is a great waste of the taxpayers' investment in that property and those housing units. Low-income renters need a place to stay in New Orleans that is not trashy and flood-damaged. This bill could go far in helping to meet that need. Recovery in New Orleans can't happen without recovery for everyone.

Please support immediate Senate action on HR 1227.

We climbed out of the car on South First Street near the Mississippi River levee. The area is sometimes called "the sliver by the river" in that it is the higher ground that did not get serious flooding after Hurricane Katrina. We were on our way to do some work at Cornerstone United Methodist Church in New Orleans East. A little uncertain about the house number, I stepped toward the porch of the duplex apartment. Before I could get past the first step, we were greeted warmly by Rev. Becky Conner, one of the three co-pastors of Cooperative Parish #6 set up by the United Methodists after the hurricane as a way to try to assist as many of their churches and church people as possible. After introductions and hugs, out stepped Rev. Jeff Conner, her husband, and another of the co-pastors.

We made our way inside their apartment and spent a few minutes getting to know one another. We learned that one of the ministries of Cornerstone had been a computer lab. Among other things, they had held computer literacy classes for the elderly, and they had run an after-school program for children that included computer activities. When the hurricane and flood did their damage, the building was unusable and the computer lab was a total loss. A non-profit in Baton Rouge has been providing computers to organizations which can make good use for them, and Cornerstone had recently received computers, monitors, and printers, so that they can restart their computer lab. The computers arrived ready to use, with hardware and software updated, printer-ready, and internet-ready. But while the building was not yet ready for them, they had to be stored.

Today's task was to get the computers out of the pastors' apartments and into the almost finished church building. A large stack of equipment crowded the wall by the Conners' kitchen table. We loaded them into three cars, with much appreciation from the Conners who had been having to squeeze around them for some time. Having loaded, we set out to Kenner, near the New Orleans International Airport, to get the rest of the equipment.

Rev. Jeff Conner was not able to join us for this task. He had received a call about a death, so he would be spending the day talking with the family and preparing for a funeral. Although the congregations may not be fully functional, the pastoral duties continue. Rev. Charles Duplessis of Mt. Nebo Bible Baptist Church in the Lower Ninth Ward had talked about the cloud of death that hangs over the lives of so many in New Orleans. He explained that the number of deaths in New Orleans each month now stands at more than one and one-half times as high as it had been before Katrina. Some of these deaths have to do with little access to health care and poor living conditions. Others are related to a high level of violence. He added that the number of people attempting suicide remains high. There is drastic need for clergy and churches to minister.

Cooperative Parish #6 includes three congregations that flourished in different communities before Katrina. Cornerstone is in one of the neighborhoods farthest east along the interstate highway that leads to Slidell, LA, and on toward Mississippi. Its neighborhood looks more suburban than the older central parts of New Orleans. The church sits on a large plot of land, and it has a relatively new building which has almost been completely restored and improved.

Due south of Cornerstone in the edge of St. Bernard Parish, in the town of Chalmette, is Covenant United Methodist Church, where services are already being held. West from Chalmette is the Lower Ninth Ward of New Orleans. In this most devastated neighborhood stands the shell of the Hartzell United Methodist Church. Hartzell sits among mostly empty lots where houses were demolished because they were so severely damaged. When we visited the Hartzell site, we found a group of carpenters from Arizona rebuilding the platform on which the pulpit stands.

Along with the Conners, the lead co-pastor is Rev. James Haynes. He pastored Cornerstone for many years, including through Katrina, but planned to retire last year. Instead, he accepted the position of pastoral leader for this Cooperative Parish. All three pastors serve all three churches, and as the opportunity to re-open all three churches comes about, they will share the preaching duties for all of the churches until the Conference determines to change the assignments.

Several more computers, the cables to hook them up, and some printers were stacked at the door when we arrived at Rev. Haynes apartment. He and his wife Mildred greeted us, and we spent some time talking together. When we finished loading, we had the back seats and trunks of four cars stuffed with computer equipment. We got directions to Cornerstone and set out on our caravan. When we arrived, Rev. Haynes brought out a hand truck, and we hauled the equipment to the room that will soon be a computer lab in the education wing of the church building. Once we had completed that task, we took a tour of the building and learned more about the neighborhood, the damage done, and the process of recovery.

We also moved some furniture, mainly some desks that needed to be put into the church offices so that the co-pastors could move into them in the next few days. We vacuumed the carpet in the offices, and then we shared a meal of gumbo. Rev. Conner picked it up from the first restaurant to reopen in all of New Orleans East, a Louisiana home cooking establishment a few blocks from the church. Along Bullard Avenue, an interstate exit and the main road in Cornerstone's neighborhood, were the shells and remnants of a half dozen fast food restaurants, along with shopping areas.

Before Katrina, Bullard Avenue and the nearby exits looked like so many other roads along an interstate freeway, with bustling retail centers and the predictable roadside businesses. Now, surrounded by chain link fences, McDonalds and Burger King and other familiar chains are in various stages of repair, approaching the day that they can reopen. At the next exit to the west, an entire mall has been bulldozed, and large machinery could be seen loading and grinding the concrete remains.

Rev. Haynes explained that with each business that opens, a few more people move back to the neighborhood. Newly opened businesses mean new jobs, and they mean that some of the features of life in the neighborhood are getting back to normal. Other residents are encouraged to return or encouraged to start rebuilding when they can see these signs that it could soon be a community again. But the process is slow. People wait for money, and they wait for hope. Little by little they start hiring contractors, making repairs, and getting their lives back in order.

Rev. Haynes said that the church is making contact with people who are coming back to the neighborhood, and it makes the new arrivals happy to find out that a church is struggling back to be part of the neighborhood. Most of us live in communities where we can take for granted the institutions and services that we are accustomed to having. There is no taking for granted in New Orleans. A person can drive around on main streets for hours without finding a grocery store that is not boarded up. New Orleans is far from what it was, and it remains to be seen what it is going to be. In the meantime, churches like Cornerstone, Covenant, and Hartzell are making sure that they have some say in shaping the next New Orleans.

We walked into the open space of a multipurpose room which was set up as the sanctuary for Sunday worship. As we approached the greeting table, a man in a colorful shirt approached and hugged each of us, saying, "Hi, I'm Roscoe." It was the end of Sunday School time, and the separate classes were wrapping up their discussions and preparing to regather in the sanctuary to discuss the Bible lesson.

Not quite a year ago, Christian Unity Baptist Church had reopened for worship. It had been a large congregation, thriving just north of the French Quarter at Claiborne and Conti Streets. The building had been remodeled from other uses, and it was sturdy. It also had the unusual feature of being elevated on stilts with a parking lot beneath the building. For these reasons, it had weathered Hurricane Katrina better than some other churches, although the damage was significant. With its members scattered throughout the states, its pastor in California, and its building damaged, the church struggled to keep itself together. With the assistance of Churches Supporting Churches, Christian Unity was able to reopen for worship in the summer of 2006.

Rev. Dwight Webster greeted us in his office and introduced us to some of the leadership of the congregation. It was a warm welcome, and we eagerly awaited the opportunity to share in worship. We took a seat near the front, and soon we were joined by the Sunday School classes for a final assembly. The superintendent reviewed the lesson, and some of the young people were asked to reiterate key points from their study. With some encouragement, they bore witness to the love of God revealed in Jesus Christ.

Soon the worship hour began, and there was praise and prayer, singing and dancing. The service was accompanied by an organist, a pianist, a drummer, and a saxophonist. There was some traditional gospel style in the organ playing, but it was not exactly the same as we usually hear in North Carolina. The saxophone was the first clue, but the other instruments also brought a strong jazz influence into the music. Sometimes it was gospel, sometimes gospel-jazz, and other times just plain jazz.

Later in the week, I had opportunity to hear jazz singer Arlee Leonard at St. Anna's Episcopal Church, as part of an evening of ministry to struggling musicians which included a meal and a one-stop ministry center. Her selections included Dorsey's "Precious Lord" and some other tunes that brought the gospel influence to the jazz performance. And the final line of the refrain, "lead me home," took on a special significance for the context of New Orleans evacuees who are holding out the hope to come back home.

Rev. Webster had many organizational matters to discuss with the congregation. He talked about giving and budgets and planning and development. He reminded anyone who was concerned that his travel back and forth to California was being funded in part by Churches Supporting Churches and was not coming out of their pockets. He offered comfort and support to those in need, and he heard reports from deacons, members, ministers, and guests. He recognized members living out of town who had made the trip to New Orleans that weekend. There is much to do in a short time when a congregation is as scattered at Christian Unity's.

One new member, a man recently released from prison, told how he had been on his own and alone when he walked out of the prison gate. He was homeless, and he came to Christian Unity to find some people who would care about him. In a short time, with the support of the church, he had found a job and housing, and he felt like he had a family even though his relatives are scattered around the country. It was a moment of joy for the whole congregation.

An associate minister, Rev. Audrey Johnson, was the preacher for the day. She continues to live in Humble, Texas, with her husband and family. She has recovered from cancer and a stroke, but she is doing well and showing few signs of her previous illness. Her sermon centered around the statement, "It has come to pass, but not to stay." With that theme she addressed the situations confronting everyone in the congregation. Most had seen their homes damaged or destroyed. Many who could not be present were living in other towns and cities. Jobs had been lost. Schools were closed. Some had lost loved ones. Friends had been separated. The church had been dispersed. But even though it had come to pass, it had not come to stay.

The injustices and abuses of power would not win the day. The destruction would not be the final word. The relocation of half the city's residents would not serve the greedy plans of developers who hope they will never come back. New Orleans had suffered great devastation, but it did not come to stay. Rebuilding homes, families, friendships, economic institutions, and churches would be the answer to the devastation. Even if the Road Home becomes a Road to Nowhere, the people of Christian Unity and of New Orleans will rise again. A risen Savior offers the promise that death and destruction are not the end of the story.

She grew tired as the sermon went on, and stopped to drink some water. Then she decided that what had been said was enough. It was an emotional moment for all who listened, for we had been moved with her and by her words. Rev. Webster offered the invitation to those who were present. They listened, they hesitated, and then they came. Eight people came to unite with Christian Unity Baptist Church on that day. Some had recently returned to live in New Orleans and needed to find a church. Others had been in New Orleans for awhile, and they had felt the Holy Spirit's prodding to get back into a church. One woman said she had been "looking" for a church for forty-two years, and she had come to realize that it was time for her to be baptized and become part of a church. Half of the people who came to join brought infants and toddlers with them.

So many people were making new beginnings with God. It was a day of rejoicing and of hope. Stepping out on faith to make a new start works so much better when we do it in the company of others who will love and support us, and who will call on us with love and support. We have to be in this together, and that is the message Christian Unity Baptist Church wants to offer.

Reading the Bible in community is what some, if not all, Baptists claim is a good thing to do. Still some among Baptists prefer the jargon of individual interpretation over any authoritative role for the community. But reading in community is not primarily an issue of giving up authority to a functionary leader; rather, it is an issue of reading in the context of a specific place and time. The context of a specific place and time emerges through the voices of the community.

On Monday night, we attended the Spring Institute held by a group of Baptist churches in New Orleans. The Institute, hosted by Evening Star Missionary Baptist Church in Harvey, LA, had been advertised in the churches, and people had signed up in advance to take one of three classes, each to continue through three consecutive evenings. Local pastors had been invited to lead Bible study and training courses. We attended the course on the Prophet Habakkuk, and the topic of the study was dealing with anxiety, based on a book by Warren Wiersbe, From Worry to Worship.

Rev. Aldon Cotton from Jerusalem Missionary Baptist Church led the study. Over forty of us crammed into a classroom, getting additional chairs so that everyone could participate. The lesson began with an overview of the book of Habakkuk, explaining the setting, the historical period, and what can be known about the author. Rev. Cotton encouraged the people to read the book of Habakkuk. In fact, he wondered why they had not already read it in preparation for the first meeting, until he found out that the fliers for the Institute had not informed the participants that the class would study Habakkuk.

The prophet Habakkuk's writing starts with a cry to God, what some would call a complaint. He asks how long things will keep going wrong. He asks how long violence will dominate the land, and how long he will have to keep looking at trouble and destruction. How long will the law be impotent and justice absent? Habakkuk has much to be anxious about. The Babylonian army is harsh and powerful. Their ways are cruel and destructive. Yet this unrighteous army will bring judgment on the unrighteous ways of Judah. Habakkuk cannot see much hope that conditions will improve.

The relevance of the passage was not lost on anyone in the room. They find themselves living in a destroyed city. The weak and poor find little mercy or justice. The legal system seems twisted and broken when it comes to them. The death rate from sickness, sorrow, and violence is soaring. And the billions of dollars put into Katrina recovery seem to be disappearing into thin air. Everyone has friends or family who have suffered immensely. Stories of mistreatment, violence, fear, and loss are just below the surface. All it takes is a moment and an opening for conversation.

One woman responds to the scripture by saying, "This crying of violence, that's what we're going through right here in New Orleans." A few others chime in with remarks about the difficult conditions of life, now twenty-one months away from the Hurricane.

A man says, "The laws being slack is a lot like Louisiana and the Federal Government. They keep saying they will make things right for people who suffered, but the help never comes. The money gets used up and disappears before it ever reaches where it should go."

Rev. Cotton discussed the way that we can get our focus on the world and what is going on that is wrong until we get overwhelmed with worry. But when our focus is on God and what God has promised us, we can remember God's righteousness and trust in it. We create our own worries by getting our focus off God. Then we get afraid to talk to God because of the sin that is in our lives.

The people were listening intently. The conversation went deep. The scriptures were alive in the community of readers, and the shared insights moved through the room with the moving of the Spirit. After closing, the participants went home eager to read the Book of Habakkuk and continue the discussions the next day.

Across the Mississippi River in the Uptown neighborhood, Tuesday night meant Bible Study at the St. John Missionary Baptist Church. Rev. Donald Boutté was beginning a study of the Gospel of Mark. His method was first to spend a few weeks doing a fast walk through the entire gospel to help the congregation gain an overall understanding of the plot, characters, and themes. When the overview is completed, they will return to the beginning and undertake a more detailed exegetical study. On this Tuesday night in May, they were looking at parts of chapters 2 and 3.

Much of the discussion on this evening was about the way Jesus challenged the legalism of the Scribes and Pharisees. They kept getting in conflict with him about his seeming carelessness about the law. He associated with people of whom the law might not approve. He healed on the Sabbath. He picked grain to eat on the Sabbath. He did not fast in the same way that some other religious people fasted. Jesus always had an answer for them, and he always made them madder with each answer, with each challenge to their authority.

The discussion opened up in the congregation to answer the pastor's question about why these events and discussions were causing conflicts between Jesus and the Pharisees. What was the problem with their view of the law? A few people spoke up. One said that the Pharisees did not understand who Jesus was when they criticized him concerning the law. Another said the teachers of the law seemed to be using the law as a tool for their personal benefit and not in a way that benefits the average person.

Rev. Boutté turned the discussion toward the people that the Pharisees rejected, the ones with whom they did not want to associate. He pointed out how Jesus associated with the ones that the Pharisees did not. People who did not fit in with the religious crowd were the ones that got Jesus criticized by the Pharisees. It even led them to go running to the Herodians, whom they also did not like, to make plans about how to get rid of Jesus.

He then introduced the work being done to draw young people back into their congregation. The young people in the community had been a large part of St. John before Katrina. But families with youth and children had not yet returned to New Orleans, and no one knows if they will. Here and there, some young people have returned, and St. Johns has seen the need to find them and draw them in. One way of doing that has been to sponsor a football team for 14-18 year old boys. A church member will coach the team, and the church has purchased the uniforms and equipment. Youth services have been slow to recover in New Orleans. It is no surprise that housing and jobs have received the most attention, but young people still need ways to constructively spend their time that can include fun, learning, and growth.

As these teen-aged boys have begun to attend St. John, they do not have the same background as some people who have been going to church all of their lives. They don't necessarily dress the way that the church people are used to. Rev. Boutté asks the congregation how this situation they are in relates to the situation from the scriptures. One woman tells a story about greeting a boy at the door of the church and asking him to remove his cap. When he resisted, she explained that it was the tradition of their church for men not to wear caps. She said, "That tradition is kind of like the law as we have been reading about it." She said that when he still did not want to take off his cap, "I told him, 'Okay, go ahead and wear it. You are still welcome here.'" The pastor remarked about another woman in the church who is very good at inserting some humor to keep the tension down in that kind of situation.

Then a man asked, "How long is long enough for someone to start learning and following the traditions of our congregation?" Rev. Boutté laughed and explained that he has the same kinds of questions, but he is trying not to rush to conformity in a way that the message of love and acceptance gets overshadowed. Others entered the conversation seeking to articulate the ways that a church can practice its traditions without making them barriers for loving acceptance of the outsider. The conversation went on well after the benediction. A communal process of reading together and listening for the Spirit's guidance was again at work.

The specific context of reading in New Orleans helped to amplify the way that churches read the scriptures in the mutual submission and accountability of community. Much is "up for grabs" in the churches of New Orleans. I don't mean that the saving power of Jesus Christ is in doubt. What is open with possibilities is the way that churches have done and will do their work of ministry. The physical structures are broken down, and the organizational structures are broken down as well. People who have always been present to lead may not be coming back. Classes and committees that used to be standard have not yet been reconstituted. New needs and new people may make it possible to put the wine into new wineskins. The best path to letting a new wind of the Spirit blow is to allow the God-breathed Word, the scriptural witness, to dwell in us richly, that we may together discern its good news in this time and place.

We turned the corner at Dorgenois Street and Fourth Street in the Central City of New Orleans, and we saw a man and woman sitting on the stoop of a house. The woman's eyes showed recognition as we realized we had spoken on another corner a block away, just a few minutes before. The man was all smiles, with a wiry build, clutching in his hands the crook of a walking cane. Their stoop was on the shady side of the street.

All along the block, and in all the adjoining blocks, we had been cataloguing the conditions of a battered and deserted neighborhood. There were empty lots where homes, churches and businesses once stood. Scattered among them were collapsed buildings leaning into a seemingly endless waiting. A few of the structures stood gutted, some with piles of debris outside, their emptiness echoing the empty promises of financial help just down the road. Most of the blocks had only a handful of residents where not so long ago the hustle and bustle of people had filled the area.

We exchanged greetings, "How y'all doing?" I explained that we were working in the neighborhood to help out Rev. Aldon Cotton from Jerusalem Baptist Church.

"Which Rev. Cotton? There's two Cottons . . . " the man went on to explain. He was wearing the monogrammed uniform of a retail worker, talking with his neighbor. He went on to tell us that the two Rev. Cottons in this neighborhood are brothers. After getting some more information from us about which one we knew, he affirmed, "Yes," he knew the Rev. Cotton whose church had fallen down in the storm. We discussed Jerusalem Baptist Church's plans to rebuild across the street from their previous location. He told us, "That Rev. Cotton is the best man for us. He's always doing good."

Throughout the day we had been recording information about a twenty-three block area in Central City, sometimes called Uptown. It is bounded by Broad Street on the north, Martin Luther King Boulevard on the on the east, Galvez Street on the south, and Toledano Street on the west. As many as fifteen churches gathered in this neighborhood before Hurricane Katrina. Now the people are gone, the pastors have relocated for a while, and the buildings left standing are unusable. Slowly some people are finding their way back to fix their houses. Even more slowly the promised funds from The Road Home are trickling through the system to a few. Others, not believing the money will ever make it to them, are finding ways to get the houses rebuilt and rehabilitated. And everyone else is wondering when or if they might sell their property and leave it all behind.

Some of the pastors in New Orleans have come together to build a vision for the future of their churches and for the city of New Orleans. They are letting their lives and ministries be intermingled so that they can be strengthened in their skills, their resolve and their hope. They have targeted certain zones in New Orleans, from the Central City to the Ninth Ward and beyond. The zones are selected because of the severity of their need in the post-Katrina devastation.

These zones used to have low-cost housing, both rental and owner-occupied. They were working-class neighborhoods, made up of families that include a growing segment of the new U. S. economy, the working poor whose toil builds corporate profits while they can't make enough money to afford what they need to get by. These are the neighborhoods that some local and outside developers would love to buy up for almost nothing so that they can make a landfall profit by creating the next trendy location for the up-and-coming professionals. There are leaders and lenders who are hoping the scattered residents of these neighborhoods never come back.

Four Shaw University Divinity School students walked in pairs around these twenty-three blocks. They looked at the door frames of battered houses to find a street address. At some locations, an address had been spray-painted on the asphalt in front of the house by one of the utility companies doing its work. The many vacant lots don't have an address posted anywhere, so the students have to count the spaces and fill in the blanks of addresses between one house and another. Here and there a house is being renovated, and occasionally they find one whose residents have moved back in. Along the way they meet construction crews putting up sheathing, homeowners packing remnants of sheet rock into trash bags, mechanics working on cars in a reopened auto repair shop, and contractors checking out properties.

One contractor in his car greeted Rev. Cotton and asked how his church was doing. As their conversation continued, the man explained that he was driving through the neighborhood to see if anyone was in need of some help that he could offer. Eventually, he took the pastor, the students, their professor, and another fellow doing some contract work to lunch. While "th'owing down" some New Orleans soul food, we discussed the needs of the churches and the community. We discussed the limits of hope in programs offered by the official political structures.

Over and over, neighborhood people, contractors, church members, and pastors have reiterated the same message: if our communities have any hope for renewal, it will have to be led by the churches. There are not any other institutions who have the vital interest of our communities at heart. And if the churches do not realize their calling to minister in this moment of crisis and opportunity, entire neighborhoods, their heritage and family ties, their accomplishments and traditions will be lost. Moreover, the churches will have failed to do what their Lord and Savior said he came to do, to preach good news to the poor. It is no time for empty preaching and promises. The good news must be tangible.

Rev. Cotton and his colleagues are working to see the strength of their relationships begin to bear fruit in solidarity and joint action. They need the descriptions of the properties, block by block, to show that they know the challenges they are up against. They need to demonstrate that they have a plan for using the funds they are requesting.

They also need this data to persuade other pastors that together they can make a difference. When the other pastors can see just how many lots, how many houses need rehabilitation, and ultimately who wants to come back and who wants to sell, they will realize that this is not an impossible and unmanageable task. And they will see that it is not Rev. Cotton or some other pastor trying to take over the whole neighborhood and shut them out. The Rev. Cotton whose church got destroyed longs for the day when all the churches in his neighborhood can share their gifts and pool their efforts to make Central City a beacon of the churches' capacity to renew, to change, to redeem a community.

So we walked on in the late spring heat and humidity. It was a good day to be outside and see the beauty of God's creation. We also were seeing the ways that human power used for domination and sin can let a thriving community become a wasteland. The God who created it all is the same one who promised to bring forth springs in the desert and to make a new shoot grow out of the stump that had been cut off. Churches Supporting Churches is working on getting the debris out of that spring so that the waters of life can flow freely and abundantly in New Orleans. They are watering that stump and nurturing the new growth. And all creation awaits the flowering of the shoot of Jesse, the seed growing secretly, the sudden appearance of the Reign of God on Fourth Street.