Category Archives: My 50 Year Perspective on Ministry

The pastor’s in trouble, so he prays. (Good idea!)

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Nothing jerks our prayers out of the “blessed generality” stage like a crisis. The best kind of crisis for that is for a close loved one to get in serious trouble–car wreck, cancer, emergency surgery, that sort of thing.

But a close second is a personal crisis, the kind where someone is making life miserable for you and it’s taking all the reserves you can muster to get out of bed in the morning and walk into one more day. You either quit praying altogether, the worst possible choice, or your prayers lose their vain repetitions and meaningless phrases and get down to business.

Yesterday, going through a stack of notes from the 1990s, I found such a prayer of mine, written in the thick of church conflict. It’s undated, so there’s no way of determining what particular struggle was going on then. We went through so many, the first six or seven years of my 14-year pastorate at the last church we served.

The prayer was written in longhand and filled two pages. It’s about as specific as one would want a prayer to be. No more “bless him” and “help her.” But on the other hand, it does not call names and I’m glad to report, it’s not as harsh as some of the Psalms where David or whoever is praying for the children of his enemies to not live to see that day’s sunset.

Here is the prayer, along with a few comments. I send it forth in the hope that some servant of the Lord in the fight of his life may find encouragement to hang tough and be faithful.

“Father, what I’m praying for is that….

1) Everything I preach may come from thee. Lead me please regarding subjects, texts, stories, applications, and especially in the delivery.”

When people are fighting the pastor, invariably they attack his sermons.  The critics are hitting us where we are most vulnerable, because few of us feel that our preaching is all it should be. They will find fault with what you are preaching, the scriptures you use, the stories you tell, the way you say it, everything. If you are doing all things well, they will criticize your tie–or the lack of one.

The remedy is to turn their opposition into motivation to pray harder, study more diligently, and do everything you know in order to preach the sharpest, most powerful sermons you’re capable of doing.

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My personal story of Dr. Billy Graham

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I was in a congregation of ministers at First United Methodist Church in Birmingham once in the early 70s when Billy Graham entered.  A shock wave moved across the auditorium.  It was amazing, and I had no explanation for that.

He was God’s man.  No question about it.

During the last years of the 1980s, I pastored Charlotte’s First Baptist Church and visited with Billy and Ruth Graham on several occasions.  His sister Catherine McElroy was in my church, along with her family.

So, when their friend and my congregant Dr. Grady Wilson was in surgery in Charlotte, I would sit in the waiting room with Billy and Ruth.  (And no, I certainly did not call them that!).  Once, when we had exhausted things to talk about, I handed them a note pad and asked them to write their favorite scripture verse and sign it.  That this was a presumptuous thing to do never entered my mind.

Billy jotted down “Psalm 16:11” and signed that familiar name.  I said, “I’m glad you wrote that because I’ve quoted that verse for years as Billy Graham’s favorite.”  Ruth Bell Graham laughed and said, “My favorite keeps changing!” As I recall, she wrote Proverbs 3:8-13 and signed it. My secretary had those two notes framed and they hung in my office for years, until I donated them to a fundraiser for a New Orleans ministry.

In November of 1987, the entire Graham team came to our church for the celebration of Evangelist Grady Wilson’s life.  My funeral message that day was rebroadcast worldwide on the Hour of Decision radio program which was so popular for a generation or more.

I recall how people in Charlotte remembered Billy’s mother.  Mrs. Graham had been such a powerful witness for Christ, they said, and they told of Bible studies she had led in the retirement home where she had lived her last days.

But my favorite story about this great evangelist took place at our first meeting.

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Some things you get over, some you love forever

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“Those that were gain to me I counted loss….” (Philippians 3:7)

First. 

As a young pastor serving a church in the bayou country, I noticed that pentecostal church down the highway.  I admired their reputation, and their publicity looked attractive.  They were growing while the small church I pastored was struggling.  So I visited their revival service one night.

Once was enough.

The preacher was delivering some shallow, hardly biblical at all, message and was whooping up the excitement to keep the people dancing in the aisles.  When the furor died down, he would step up to the microphone and continue his tirade.  When the people returned to the uproar, he casually walked over to the piano–the player had not slowed down the constant banging at any point–and carried on a conversation.

I quickly had enough of that and never envied that church or its pastor again.

From that moment on, whenever I hear of a church that is blowin’ and goin’, I’m not envious.  “Bless ’em, Lord,” I say and tend to my sheep.

Second.  

I discovered old radio programs.

Several decades ago, I was thrilled when I found a company selling vintage radio programs.  As a child of the 1940’s, I grew up in the golden age of radio.  I was the only one in our family who would sit by the radio drinking in the stories and comedies.  So, in the late 1970s when a company was selling eight-track tapes of those old programs, I ordered several and was in heaven….for a time.

In time, I discovered that Sirius XM has a classic radio station, so I subscribed.  I still listen occasionally, but I’ve long since gotten past 95 percent of the programming.  Most of those early radio shows were dumb, shallow, and pointless and the decades have not improved them.  Very few of the programs from that era hold up today.

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Joe is interviewed for a national magazine. Well, in a way.

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On the final page of a popular magazine–which shall go unnamed–a celebrity is interviewed in each issue.   I thought I’d give it a try and answer the questions myself. (At the end, I added a few more.)  

Need to say that I first did this five years ago.  I am redoing some of the comments, because some things have changed.  Okay, now.

Here goes….

What is your idea of perfect happiness?

Being in the place God put me, doing the work He gave me.  It doesn’t get any better than this.  Likewise, the best definition of hell on earth is to be out of His will.

What is your greatest fear?

Just that very thing: being out of his will.  I fear nothing so much as disappointing Him.  That could happen to any of us. None of us is immune to temptation. That keeps me on my knees every day.

Which historical figure do you most identify with?

Abraham Lincoln. I’ve been to his birthplace (a log cabin in Kentucky), the restored “New Salem,” Illinois, where he lived as a young man, and through his home in Springfield.  I’ve been to his burial place, and in Washington, D.C., to Ford Theatre where he was shot and the house across the street where he died, as well as through the White House.  I own many books on Lincoln.

Or maybe Winston Churchill.  I’ve been to Chartwell, his country home in England.  And have shelves of books on him.  Oh, and I have shelves of books on Harry Truman who was president during my childhood. I’ve been to his home in Independence, MO and to his birthplace in Lamar, MO, and twice have visited his presidential library.

Which living person do you most admire?

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I owe an apology to Mary Hazel Miller

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I must have slammed that good lady a hundred times over the last two decades of preaching.

Here’s what happened, and how I learned that I probably did her wrong.

In preaching a sermon I call Rejoice Anyway–a staple of my preaching ministry for a number of years–I would mention two elderly women in a church I used to pastor who illustrated the contrast between how to do it and how not to.  Here’s what I said–

Mary Hazel Miller and Maybelle Montgomery were both members of my church.  They were perhaps 75 or 80 years of age, and as different as night from day.  Maybelle lived in a humble cottage off the hill from downtown.  She did not have a lot of this world’s riches, but was easily the happiest Christian lady I’ve ever known. She was always rejoicing in the Lord. .  

They called from the hospital to say Mrs. Montgomery was in emergency with a broken hip.  I dropped whatever I was doing and drove down to check on her.  When I walked in the emergency entrance, she spotted me first.  Lying on a gurney, she called out so everyone could hear: “Praise the Lord, Preacher!  He left me one good leg!”  I burst out laughing, and gave her a hug.  I said, “What are we going to do with you?”

Now, Mary Hazel, on the other hand, was the most negative member I’ve ever had.  I’d go visit her in the hospital–that kind of negativism seems to put you in the hospital on a regular basis–and all she would do is complain.  “Oh, Doctor McKeever!  I don’t know where those doctors are.  The nurses rarely come by.  My sisters said they were going to come see me but they’ve not been here, either.”

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How to interview yourself and have fun doing it

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“Let every man examine himself….” (I Corinthians 11:28).  The women too. 

Toward the end of each issue, Vanity Fair magazine interviews some celebrity.  The questions they pose are good ones.  Consider answering them for yourself.  (Bear in mind their subjects are well known in the secular world and not someone you and I will meet at the next denominational conference.  So, don’t worry about how they answered these questions.  In truth, I was often a little put out with them.  But what I’m suggesting here is that you consider answering them for yourself.)

Here are the questions in one recent issue–

–What is your idea of perfect happiness?

–What is your favorite journey?

–What do you consider the most overrated virtue?

–On what occasion do you lie?

–What do you dislike most about your appearance?

–Which words or phrases do you most overuse?

–What do you consider your greatest achievement?

–What is your greatest regret?

–What is your current state of mind?

–If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

–Where would you like to live?

–What is your most marked characteristic?

–What do you value most in your friends?

–Who are your favorite writers?

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My biggest regret from a lifetime of ministry

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This is my journal entry dated October 1980.

I was 40 years old and Margaret was 38. We were in our 19th year of marriage, and pastoring the First Baptist Church of Columbus, Mississippi.  Our children were 17, 14, and 11.

Here’s my journal entry for October 9.

The month of October got off to a poor start around the McKeever household.  I announced to Margaret that until October 27th, there were no open days or nights.  The month was filled with church meetings, committees, banquets, associational meetings, speaking engagements at three colleges, a weekend retreat in Alabama, and a few football games. She cried.  Once again, I had let others plan my schedule in the sense that I’d failed to mark out days reserved for family time.

Years later–long after she had transitioned to Heaven–I read that and wept.

The irony of this is that a year or two earlier, we had come through months of marital counseling and felt that we finally had a healthy marriage.  In fact, one Sunday night six months after this journal entry, Margaret and I would take the entire worship service to tell the congregation of our marital woes, of our attempts to make this relationship work, of our extraordinary efforts to get counseling, which involved driving 180 miles round trip twice monthly for two-hour sessions with a professional therapist, and of the Lord healing our marriage.

We were supposed to have a healthy marriage, and here I am putting everyone and every thing ahead of my own family.

What’s wrong with this picture?

That is my greatest regret from over half a century of ministry: I failed to take care of my family.

I write this now for the benefit of my children and grandchildren.  I write it for the benefit of pastors and ministers in the Lord’s work of whatever kind.  Take care of your family!!

Now, I am not groveling in self-pity. While I grieve, I share it hoping to help someone.

Don’t do what I did.

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What I wrote about at the age of 70. Fifteen years ago!!!

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(Note:  As of March 28 of the year 2025, I turned 85 years of age.  I ran across this article (below), done 15 years ago.  I guess I thought I was old! lol.  If I decide to leave an editorial comment along, it’ll be like this, in bold italics.) 

No one is more surprised than I am to find I’m now 70 years old. I reached that lofty plateau last March 28 and am still getting adjusted to the thought. Not sure if I will ever quite adjust to the fact that the old fellow staring back at me from the mirror is myself.

People often take pictures of me when I’m preaching or drawing, but it’s a rare photograph I want to look at twice. They just don’t look like me!

I’m still the 15-year-old I was in 1955 when life began to get more interesting. (That’s when I discovered girls and cars and adult work on the farm!)

Age 70. That’s 7 years more than Martin Luther lived. It’s 39 more than David Brainerd was given and 13 more than Jonathan Edwards.

You’d think I would have accomplished more than I have, given all that extra time. To my everlasting shame, I haven’t.

Looking back a few years, I know now that I fully expected some things to be true at this age than are the case.

–I would have thought I’d feel more like an adult than I do, and less like a teen. No one told me how septuagenarians are supposed to feel, but I’m betting it’s not like this.

–That I would be able to look back on 7 decades, including 48 years in the ministry, with a greater sense of accomplishment than I do.

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Family Reunions: My 2004 article about our first one

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The following piece was posted on my website exactly 20 years ago, in May of 2004.  Since we’ve just returned from our 2025 reunion–in the same location and with many of the same family members!–I thought it would be fun to repost it.  I’ll call my “Kilgore cousins” attention to it.  

Nearly twenty years ago, some of my siblings started worrying about our larger family. “The old folks are leaving,” they said, “and pretty soon, there will be no one left except our generation—the ‘cousins.’” Our mother came from a family of nine brothers and sisters, while our dad had eleven, so we were blessed with plenty of fun cousins and doting uncles and aunts. It was a great situation with all of us kids growing up together, visiting one another in the summers, and getting into trouble together. Now, with our parent’s generation aging, we all decided we needed to see each other on a regular basis. (Note:  This was in 2004.  Dad died in 2007 and Mom in 2012.  None of their generation is still living.  My brother Ron is the eldest of the clan as he turns 90 in August.)

Family reunion. The very term conjures up all kinds of crazy images-weird uncles, rambunctious kids, silly cousins. We sent out letters to everyone and for a couple of years tried holding reunions at various city parks and lake homes. Nothing really ‘took’, however, until we got smart and decided to hold the get-together at the only logical site-the old family homeplace. That was the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend, 1994.

Our maternal grandparents,Virge and Sarah Kilgore, bought several hundreds of acres of woodland and farmland just inside Winston County, Alabama, right after the turn of the 20th century and cleared land for a house. It was an old-fashioned breezeway-down-the-center home, unpainted, with two bedrooms on each side and a kitchen in the back. Most of their children were born there, including my mother Lois in 1916. Grandpa built a barn and a blacksmith shop and later a garage to house his car, a 1948 Packard. He died in 1949, Granny died in 1963, and no one has lived there since. But all the buildings still stand just as they left them. So, every two years, my Uncle Cecil-who owns the property now-and some of the men get out the tractors and bush-hog the surrounding fields and open up the house and we have a reunion on the Saturday before Memorial Day. (Cousin Johnny Kilgore, age 80, owns the place now and takes the lead in the reunion planning.)

I will never forget the first reunion, that Memorial Day weekend of 1994, because my wife almost did not let me come. Our daughter-in-law Julie–she and Neil live a mile from us in the New Orleans suburb of Metairie–was due to give birth to their first-born at that very time. I assured Margaret I would make the reunion and not miss the birth. On Friday, I made the seven-hour drive northward and on Saturday we held the reunion. They had brought in tables and chairs from the church and union hall so we could spread lunch together and get reacquainted with each other. That night, we built a bonfire and pulled the chairs into a circle and reminisced and sang and got silly.

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How to enjoy being elderly!

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In two days I hit birthday number 85.

I have arrived at “elderly.”

I love it.

A friend of mine–Dr. Bill Murfin–used to joke, “I’ll tell you how to live to be a hundred!”  Pause for effect, then he would say, “Get to be 99, then be real careful.”

Both my parents lived to be nearly 96.  Dad died in 2007 at 95 years and 7 months.  Mom died in 2012 at 95 years and 11 months.  So, I have a while to go.

It would be highly presumptuous for me to claim the right to tell anyone how to live to be my age or my parents’ ages.  There are so many variables.

–When you take the surveys about longevity, it usually asks if you are smoking and drinking and using drugs.  If you check ‘no’ to each of these, there’s still no guarantee.  The survey will go on to ask if you are exercising so many minutes a week, walking, etc., if you are eating leafy green vegetables, that sort of thing.

You know and I’m going to state the obvious here: Just because you give all the right answers, there are no guarantees.

–Your genes have a lot to do with these things.  Some people–I’m thinking of my wife of 52 years, Margaret Ann Henderson McKeever–inherit a mixed bunch of genes that almost guarantee the individual a lifetime of health problems.  Not for any bad choices they made, but just because their bodies contained time bombs (for want of a better way of saying it) that they had no control over.

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