Saturday, my assignment at the National World War II Museum was to be a monitor in a section known as the Contemporary Arts Center. I showed up at 2 pm for my 2:30 start, not having done this before and wanting to be briefed by whoever had the position prior to my shift. I signed in, got my badge, and worked my way through the massive crowds to the CAC. “Stand here and open the door for people,” said Walt, my supervisor. Okay. I can do this. An hour later, he moved me into the CAC to check people’s badges or bracelets to make sure they were in the correct place. That’s where I stayed the rest of the afternoon, monitoring two sessions with several veterans on each panel.

The first panel discussion involved three fighter pilots in the War and was scheduled to go from 2:45 until 4:00 pm. Here’s what happened. The first pilot was fascinating but spoke in short sentences and brief paragraphs. Ten minutes into the program and he’s through. Then the second one spoke. Different story. He was a good storyteller and had a terrific story to tell, one that went on and on. He had become an Ace in the war, shooting down 5 enemy planes. As he moved his story from scene to scene, I glanced at the moderator, a professor I suppose, standing at the podium and charged with moving the discussion along and keeping it on schedule. At 4 o’clock–the announced time for this session to end–the Ace is just getting wound up. On and on he went. At 4:15 pm, some people are getting up and leaving and a few are arriving for the next session. At 4:20 pm, the museum people turned the lights on full, hoping he would get the point, I guess. He finally did and everyone clapped. Meanwhile, pilot number 3 had sat there silently the entire time. He had come all this way–from wherever he came–and the second speaker had used all his time. As the crowd applauded, he held his hand up and the emcee quietened everyone. The pilot spoke two sentences–I didn’t get what he said–and that was that.

Museum people standing near me in the rear could not believe what was happening. “We instruct our moderators how to lead these meetings,” one said. Another said, “Someone is supposed to be down front holding up signs saying ‘five minutes’ and ‘one minute.'”

Now, the crowd loved the fighter ace and they had sat on the edge of their seats, drinking in his stories. Problem was he completely shut out the third guy. Was it thoughtlessness or selfishness or old age or what? Perhaps it was a failure to properly brief the speakers. I don’t know.

“I can assure you that moderator will never be asked to emcee another panel here,” someone behind me said.

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(I found this in a pile of papers. It’s something I wrote a while ago. You might have a use for it.)

This morning I awakened early, got dressed, and went for a walk in the neighborhood. This is an excellent time to pray and think about Sunday’s sermon. When I returned home, I began feeling weak, so I awakened my wife and said, “Honey, I’m hungry. What should I do?”

She answered, “Take a bath.”

I did. But no sooner had I stepped out of the shower than the hunger pains returned. So I said, “I’m still hungry.”

“Try getting some clothes on,” she suggested. I said, “That’s a good idea.” But it did not help. There I stood, fully dressed, and very hungry.

This time Margaret said, “Well, put on a sweater. Maybe you don’t have on enough clothes.” I did, but it didn’t help. I was hungry enough to eat a bear.

“Try reading something,” she said. So I found my Bible and read three chapters. Then I read this morning’s newspaper. Still, I was famished.

“What else can you suggest?” I said. We seemed to be running out of ideas.

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Friday was “Grandparents Day” at the school, so Margaret and I showed up at 10 am and spent the next couple of hours visiting with children and teachers, having our pictures made with these 3 little McKeever geniuses, listening to their handbell choirs, and checking out their classrooms. The kids have made arrangement for Grandpa to come back some day and draw sketches of the children in all three classrooms. (Hey, it’s what I do.) Twelve-year-old Grant remarked, “One of the teachers lives in our neighborhood. She said she has driven down our street and seen the elderly man pushing us on the green swing under our tree.”

Elderly man. Thanks a lot. Let’s see now…what were we saying in the previous blog about ageism?

Thursday afternoon, I spent three hours at the World War II Museum attending the international conference on that war. The main auditorium was crowded as expected for Andy Rooney’s appearance. I’ve read the book on his wartime experiences as a reporter for the Stars and Stripes, but hearing his stories in person was special. “I had the best seat in the War,” he said. “I could travel anywhere with few restrictions, and talk to anybody. It sounds terrible to say since so many millions were killed in the Second World War, but it was the most exhilarating time of my life.”

A number of personalities scheduled to appear did not make it for health reasons. “Murrow Boy” Richard C. Hottelet, former Senator (and bomber pilot) George McGovern, and Enola Gay pilot General Paul Tibbetts were among the no-shows. I browsed the building, talked to a few authors, and bought some World War II postcards. “These are authentic,” the seller said. “A whole cache of them were found. Never used. The cartoons on the front were drawn by a fifteen-year-old kid.” A dollar each; I bought ten.

Standing in the rear of the auditorium, it was almost as much fun watching the crowd as listening to the panel of veterans and authorities. Several octogenarians were decked out in their original uniforms, and yes, they still fit. My wife is willing to bet the uniforms are new, but I disagree. In one conference room, a woman appearing to be in her late 80s was lovely in her Army WAC uniform, addressing perhaps 15 or 20 listeners. The unfortunate lady was competing with Andy Rooney.

In some of the sessions they were taking questions from the audience. What was funny about that is the old gentlemen who went to the microphones did not care a hoot about the opinions of the experts on the stage. They wanted to tell their stories. “Let me share a couple of my experiences with you,” they would begin. I looked around to see if the audience was growing fidgety and impatient, but no one was. In fact, when they finished, the crowd would erupt into applause, including the panel members.

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Several of our churches are going through major and exciting changes this week.

Woodmere Baptist Church of Harvey is no more. As of this Sunday, Christ Baptist Church – Harvey comes into existence, meeting at 3000 Manhattan Boulevard. Their previous building in the Woodmere section of this New Orleans suburb now belongs to New Covenant Baptist Church. Meanwhile, this Sunday, Faith Baptist Church will be voting to acquire its first piece of property in its 7 year history.

Christ Baptist is pastored by Dr. Harold Mosley, professor at our seminary and recently pastor of Airline Baptist of Metairie. They’ll be doing lots of renovations to their new site which was formerly the House of Prayer Lutheran Church. Jerry Hamby is Associate Pastor and Bob Darcey is the interim Minister of Music. They’re without pews, so Sunday they’ll bring in the folding chairs for Sunday School at 9 am and worship at 10 am and 6 pm. We wish them well.

New Covenant is pastored by their founding shepherd, Thomas “Chip” Glover. He reported to our Wednesday pastors meeting that the church voted this week to purchase cots, sheets, toiletries, etc., in order to house volunteers coming to help rebuild the city and witness in the community. Thomas went into detail explaining the circumstances of their being able to acquire this church site, and rather than try to remember it all here, I plan to ask him to write it out and we’ll post it on this site. It’s a fascinating story of the leadership of the Holy Spirit. Here’s a hint: the property was appraised for $885,000 and they bought it for $325,000.

Faith Baptist Church was formed several years ago when the First Baptist Church of New Orleans voted to relocate from its St. Charles Avenue location. The charter members of Faith felt the Uptown section of the city needed to have a continued witness, so they formed a church and made arrangements to share the facility of First Presbyterian Church of New Orleans on South Claiborne Street. To date, they still have not called a permanent pastor, but have been led by various interims. Professor (and former missionary) Tim Searcy is their present interim pastor. When Hurricane Katrina damaged the Presbyterian sanctuary, Faith moved to St. Charles Avenue and began renting space from Rayne Memorial United Methodist Church, where they continue to meet at 12:30 pm. Katrina sliced Faith’s numbers exactly down the middle, leaving them running 40 to 50 on Sunday mornings.

This Sunday they are voting on purchasing a plant formerly used by a Christian Science congregation. In the absence of Dr. Searcy–who is on a trip to the Holy Land with his son–they’ve asked me to preside at the Sunday afternoon business meeting.

I’ll be preaching Sunday morning at First Baptist Church of St. Rose as this congregation honors its one and only pastor from 1959 to 2005–Rev. W. O. Cottingham–in his retirement. This service had to be postponed due to last year’s hurricane.

In the Wednesday meeting, Cherry Blackwell promoted the Christmas Banquet for all our ministers and spouses, to be held on Tuesday evening, December 12, at 6:30 pm at the Ormond Plantation on River Road in Destrehan, a few miles west of Kenner. Child care will be provided at the First Baptist Church of Kenner from 6 pm on. (FBC Kenner is located at 1400 Williams Boulevard, with the educational building in the block behind the sanctuary.) Jim Chester who is an illusionist, story-teller, and preacher will be the evening entertainment. (Please note that “ministers and spouses” means all pastors and other church staff members, male and female.)

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I said to Pastor Steve James of Trinity Baptist Church, “Lake Charles is such a lovely little town. I wish the state convention was a couple of days longer to give me time to explore it.” He smiled, “You could do that in one day and have time left.” Quaint shops, cute cafes, historic streets–I do love lovely little picturesque towns.

Looking back over Monday and Tuesday, I’m amazed at all the activities I packed into the 24 hours in Lake Charles, and that’s without attending all the convention sessions. (Many years ago, as a young pastor, I felt duty-bound to not miss a convention report or a sermon. Over the years, you adjust to the reality of other meetings you need to attend, people you need to see, and your diminishing stamina.) I met with people who are helping to rebuild New Orleans, with the other directors of missions from across the state, with various friends and colleagues, and still had time to hear a number of reports and sermons from Tommy Middleton (Woodlawn Baptist Church, Baton Rouge) and our own Fred Luter (Franklin Avenue Baptist Church).

For my money, there were two highlights of this two day convention. Monday night, Dr. Joe Aguillard of Louisiana College–our only Baptist institution of higher learning in the state–gave a great report on the health of LC, and was accompanied by the college chorale. Then the football team came out, and several players addressed the convention. What we heard knocked everyone off their feet.

“Our guys pray together,” one of the players said. “This year we’ve had 70 young men pray to receive Christ.” Applause. “We do a lot of community missions, too.” Pictures thrown on the screen showed them in nursing homes. Impressive.

“We were speaking in one church and someone asked me, ‘How often does your team pray?’ I guess he was trying to be funny because they all laughed. He did not know we had prayed 3 times coming up there that day, and sometimes during practice we’ll pray 8 times.”

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Cartoons from the First, Second, and Third Epistles of John are now available in the Image Gallery.

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Several weeks ago an enterprising graduate student in finances e-mailed me from some university in this hemisphere–that’s as definite as my memory can get–to ask if she could bring down a busload of her classmates to assist residents of New Orleans in handling/investing/managing all the money they’ve gotten from the government. I said, “What money?”

She said, “We hear everyone is getting 150 thousand dollars for their flooded homes.” I said, “No one has received a dime of it. It’s still clogged up in a government pipeline somewhere.”

That money is beginning to flow, at least in a trickle. The Louisiana Recovery Authority has hired people to receive applications from homeowners, and by all reports, the process is lengthy and laborious. People have been complaining that they’re being asked to reproduce all the applications for any kind of assistance they’ve received earlier, to document everything about their homes, and to produce papers most of which were ruined in the Katrina floodwaters that swallowed 200,000 homes. A few days ago, a fed up Governor Kathleen Blanco announced that the LRA’s slow pace would not get it. At that point, only a hundred or so people had received their money.

The governor said, “I want 10 thousand people to get their checks before December 1.” Well, they heard her and hired another hundred workers and decided it was all right for applicants to handle everything by telephone (not everyone has the internet, to their surprise), and they now announce they’re on track to reach the 10 thousand number by the end of this month.

Footnote: this does not mean everyone is getting up 150 thousand dollars. It’s “up to” that amount. But you have to deduct your insurance checks and a few other things. Even so, we’re thankful.

Twice this week, I received e-mails asking when the cartoons on the Winter Bible Study would be ready. I’ve been turning out a series of cartoons on whichever book of the Bible Southern Baptists focus on each January, for many years. Some of those are available at www.joemckeever. Click on “cartoons” on the right side of the page and have fun.

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Today was our second Wednesday pastors’ meeting at the New Orleans Chinese Baptist Church in Kenner. Pastor Hong Fu Liu welcomed us and told how they’re getting ready to baptize 7 new members on the first Sunday of December. During the Billy/Franklin Graham Crusade in March, they had 21 people to receive Christ. Fourteen have already been baptized.

Before Katrina, this wonderful church–which is celebrating its 25th anniversary; it was a mission from Memorial Baptist in Metairie–had two morning worship services. Now they have only one, having lost some 40 percent of their members since the hurricane. Their facilities were built ten years ago and are still lovely, although Hong Fu says that’s because the insurance paid off well and they’ve repainted and reroofed. He paid tribute to the Southern Baptist Convention which helped them purchase the lovely lot on which their church stands.

The Arkansas working out of Gentilly Baptist Church sponsored a block party on the church grounds last Saturday. They had anticipated 150, but 400 people showed up. They had one profession of faith. Sunday, 174 people attended the worship service, half of them being volunteers from out of state.

Debra and Rachel from Victory Church came to share with the pastors about the Convoy of Hope scheduled for Saturday, November 18, on both the East Bank and the West Bank of New Orleans. They will be giving away free school supplies, 5,000 Bibles, food (including 250 turkeys), gift cards to Lowe’s for $10 to the first one thousand people, discounts for prescriptions, and such. The East Bank (downtown New Orleans) location is 1501 St. Louis Street (corner of Basin Street and St. Louis, next to Louis Armstrong Park).

More than 35,000 pound of free groceries will be given to local residents. They’re also planning health screenings, job fairs, free haircuts–if they can find some barbers willing to work on Saturdays for nothing–and plenty of games and children’s activities.

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Harry Truman was often asked if he regretted dropping the A-bomb on Japan. “I refuse to waste time second-guessing myself,” he would reply. “Under the circumstances, I did the best I knew, and if I had it to do over, I’d do the same thing again.”

That’s one of the many differences between Harry and me. I mean, in addition to the fact that I’m alive and he’s not.

I sometimes beat myself up over something I did and wish I hadn’t. Or did not do and wish I had.

Case in point. I spent this past week at a lovely church in another state. They called the emphasis a “Global Focus Celebration.” The people were wonderful and the hosts where I stayed were the best. The dozen or twenty missionaries who gathered for the event were as fine as they come. But what I was doing there hounded me from the beginning to the end.

The invitation to this annual event came from a longtime friend who served that church as interim pastor recently. “Invite Joe,” he suggested, and they did. I accepted it thinking it was a World Mission Conference, which we now call “On Mission Celebration.” The idea of that is to bring a large group of missionaries to your area and have them speak in churches all over the county, a different speaker in each church each night. But the Global Focus was one church, many missionaries, several days of meetings.

I set up a display in the fellowship hall so people could see my photos of Katrina-impacted churches of the New Orleans area, and stood there Wednesday afternoon while members came by to talk. I streamed photos on my laptop in case they wanted to see where these churches stood now. We had missionary fellowships, breakfasts together, breakfasts with the staff, a cookout in the home of our hosts, a senior adult luncheon at which one of the missionaries spoke, a church-wide missions banquet where I spoke, and we joined with the church members in fanning out over the city Saturday morning and afternoon to do ministry. Saturday night, we each attended a dinner with our sponsoring Sunday School class and each of us spoke to the members. Sunday morning we attended the two worship services and spoke in the Sunday School classes.

It may be just because I’m still new to being a missionary. After pastoring for 42 years, I came to the director of missions position only in May of 2004. Evidently, DOMs and others attend these Global Focus events and On Mission Celebrations a lot. But this was my first. I had a lot of stuff to take with me, so I drove up and back. Over 1600 miles round trip. The drive was wonderful, the scenery spectacular (I caught the Ozarks in the peak of its fall colors), and all that. Nothing negative at all. Absolutely nothing.

Except, I was just wondering what I was doing there.

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I billed it that way because it was! Held Friday and Saturday, November 3 and 4, at First Baptist-Marrero, across the river from New Orleans, this conference pulled together 30 volunteers from Louisiana and five other states. Leader Hope Ferguson e-mailed us her report on Wednesday. Following are the highlights.

Thirty-two churches from this area participated. Most were Anglo churches, 1 was Haitian, and 3 were Spanish. Twenty-seven of the churches are either starting or restarting their church libraries. Three schools participated.

Ninety-five individuals registered for the classes, including eleven pastors.

Get this: churches and businesses and individuals which contributed money or books or library supplies or some of all came from 17 states.

58 attended the class: Administration for beginning libraries.

21 attended: Classification and Cataloging for beginners.

29 went through the class on processing, circulation, and selection.

12 for Children and the Church Library.

14 Planning Promotion.

17 Reading Club Extravaganza

6 Space and Furnishings for Church Libraries

15 Collecting and promoting church history

5 Preserving Church History

6 Writing Church History

Baskets of blessings (information, gifts, promotional items, library supplies) were given to all 32 churches. Nearly 4,000 books were given to these new church libraries, with an average of 150 given to each one.

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