I had to post this because Pastor Shawn (from my old congregation First Grace) is shouting out my home city.
It's weird to see people posting pictures from Mardi Gras on Facebook, and not being there. I only celebrated one Mardi Gras in New Orleans, but I still feel like I own it.
But this is well-said. Everyone owns Mardi Gras.
It's weird to see people posting pictures from Mardi Gras on Facebook, and not being there. I only celebrated one Mardi Gras in New Orleans, but I still feel like I own it.
But this is well-said. Everyone owns Mardi Gras.
“Your Cadillac
ain’t no hipper than my bus stop.”
The gospel
according to native son,
Mac
Rebennack (Dr. John)
Fat Tuesday People,
And so the story goes (and it may just be that...)
You may not know the name, Paul Allen, but surely you know his business Partner
Bill Gates. The two of them founded one
of those little tech companies—Microsoft.
In a chance conversation this week, I was told the story like this…Mr.
Allen, who now owns the Seattle Seahawks and just about anything he wants to
own, brought himself and 300 of his closest friends to New Orleans the first
weekend of 2013 Carnival to celebrate his birthday. All stayed at a posh downtown, St. Charles
Ave Hotel. So good so far…Somewhere on
the first Friday night of parading, Mr. Allen called for limo service for
himself and friends. How do you convince
someone from Seattle with a million dollars in his back pocket that no personal
treasure can stop a Mardi Gras Parade, but rather that Mardi Gras Parades, and
sometimes just one brass band in the street can stop a whole fleet of Cadillacs. Mardi Gras reality affects us all
differently, but at some magical moment we all realize we are just another
reveler looking for a pottie. It’s not that Mr. Allen does not own
Mardi Gras—he does. But, he owns Mardi
Gras like a kid with a ladder owns Mardi Gras.
We all own Mardi Gras.
There is so much more to say, but for
now…it is 11:58 PM. Tomorrow on Fat
Tuesday, my nine year old daughter will be dressed up like a “butterfly bird”
in a handmade costume (thank you Adrienne Rathert), my 6 year old son will be a
“reading egg”, my 29 year old wife is still working on three different costumes
trying to decide which will weather the weather best, and I will be “the man in
purple.” Tomorrow we will wiggle our way
through a city in which nearly all forms of commerce have been suspended, and static,
worldly relational boundaries that no law can change will be gleefully grayed. Revelers will pose for pictures, children
will feel like queens and kings and joy will be the language. It’s not heaven, but it is Mardi Gras.
Be good to yourself and happy Mardi
Gras,
Pastor Shawn
