Monday night at our annual Fall meeting of the Baptist Association of Greater New Orleans, Mike Canady was the featured preacher. At one point, he gave a confession.

“Many years ago, after growing up in the town of Sulphur, Louisiana, and while attending seminary in Fort Worth, I told the Lord, ‘I’ll go anywhere in the world you want me to go. I’ll do anything you tell me to do. Anything at all, Lord. Just don’t send me to Africa or back to Louisiana!'”

Mike paused and smiled. “For the past 42 years, I have served the Lord in Africa and Louisiana.” (Mike and Linda are former missionaries to the East African country of Malawi. Then, he was a director of missions in Houma, LA, and now directs the department of missions and ministries for the Louisiana Baptist Convention.)

Mark Joslin was sitting just to my left. I heard him mutter, “I know. I know.”

I leaned over and whispered, “What did you tell the Lord?”

This pastor of New Vision Baptist Church in the New Orleans suburb of St. Rose said, “I told him I’d go anywhere but not to send me back home.” Mark is — as you would guess by now — a local boy.

I did something similar. Now, I grew up in the coal fields of West Virginia and the rural countryside of north Alabama. When we left Birmingham to come to seminary in New Orleans in the summer of 1964, I prayed, “Lord, I’ll go anywhere. Just don’t send me to Mississippi.”

We put in 19 years in Mississippi, and loved every day of it.

Makes me wish I’d said, “Don’t send me to Honolulu.”

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Some live to eat and some eat to live. Being a Baptist, we eat to fellowship and fellowship to eat.

I’m not sure why some people in the Lord’s work are conflicted on the subject of eating at church. Looks to me like, from reading my Bible, it’s one of the most natural and, at the same time, spiritual activities available to us.

One of my favorite teeny-tiny Scriptures is found in Luke 24. Now, most of that chapter is given to the account of the two discouraged disciples leaving Jerusalem on the first day of the week (not the Sabbath, remember) and the newly-risen Lord Jesus joining them. As they walk along, He begins to open their minds about Old Testament prophecies concerning Himself, His life, death, and resurrection. Reaching the small town of Emmaus, they invited him to stay in their home.

“And He went in to stay with them. Now it came to pass, as He sat at the table with them, that He took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them.” Notice, He’s the Guest who became the Host. “Then their eyes were opened and they knew Him; and He vanished from their sight.”

A short while later, Jesus appears inside the locked upper room where the other disciples have gathered. Well, the disciples are so excited they almost lose it. “They were terrified and frightened, and supposed they had seen a spirit.” Jesus calms them down, shows them the scars on His hands and feet, and waits for them to digest this overwhelming evidence of His bodily resurrection. Once again, they almost overdosed on joy.

Now, here’s the verse, one of my favorites.

“But while they still did not believe for joy, and marveled, He said to them, ‘Anybody got anything to eat?'” (Luke 24:41) (Okay, I phrased it a tad different from the NKJV Bible in my lap, which has Him saying, “Have you any food here?” I prefer my way. It doesn’t sound so religious, but normal, the way real people talk.)

Now, in choosing this as one of my favorite verses I’m being serious and not trying to be cute. (If you know me, you know I sometimes have to point that out.)

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This week, two good friends have told me (on separate occasions; they don’t know each other) about the incredible experience they are having in their new jobs. One works for the International Mission Board of our denomination and the other for Samaritan’s Purse, the Franklin Graham ministry.

The IMB friend said, “I’ve been there for six months now and everyone is so super nice. There’s no backbiting, no gossiping, just kindness and graciousness.” She thinks she has died and gone to heaven.

The Samaritan’s Purse friend said, “The co-workers are such godly people who are in this work because of the call of the Lord. I feel I have found a new family.”

Music to my ears.

Sometimes when we offer jobs to people, we make the mistake of thinking that salary and benefits are all that matter. Not so, particularly for those with the call of God upon their lives. Working relationships with colleagues can be the most crucial factor of all.

It has long been noted that longevity in staff relationships is directly proportionate to the relationships between team members. I’ve known a few churches where the pastor and ministers of education and worship served together as a team for 25 years or more.

Conversely, I’ve known some churches where the staff positions rotate every year or two, with no one staying any longer than it takes to find a new position in another town.

What accounts for such turnover? There are people and institutes that study such things and they have solid answers. What I have is anecdotal evidence based on my observations and experience.

Here are my candidates for the top ten reasons people in the Lord’s work change jobs often.

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Recently in the message I wrote concerning the bottom-dwelling U.S. economy, I told the story of Randy and Charlene McCall, our neighbors in Columbus, Mississippi, who, after he lost his job managing factories some years back, bought a ServiceMaster franchise and did well. I did not ask their permission to tell that, but knew Randy had shared his story at the national meeting of the franchisees of that company, and felt confident he wouldn’t mind my using them as illustrations. Well, I found out a little more today….

In the early 1990s, the McCall’s franchise grew to be the largest in the USA, and that’s out of a total of 4500! These days, my buddy Randy putters around the house, the way self-respecting retirees should, and their son Chris–my son Neil’s best friend from childhood onward–runs the company and is maintaining that exalted ranking.

Randy reminded me of something I had forgotten but should not have. He writes, “Do you remember me making a copy of the first major account proposal I bid on in Columbus (it was Weyerhaeuser) on the church copier? You and I prayed before I presented the proposal. Well, for some reason I was more confident in that proposal than I had a right to be and got the account. The rest is history. Thank you.”

Then, true to form, this friend uses up the good will he had just established. Commenting on plans for me to preach at the First Baptist Church of Columbus next Sunday, he writes, “Charlene and I are scheduled to keep the nursery, so I sent out an e-mail to all church members asking if anyone would rather sub for us that Sunday than hear your preaching. We had 436 volunteers.”

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Tuesday morning I was telling my 92-year-old mom in our daily phone call about my flight to Virginia the day before. I said, “Mom, the flight from New Orleans to Atlanta took one hour and 5 minutes. The flight from Atlanta to Newport News took one hour and 10 minutes.” She said, “Goodness. Why do they go so fast?”

I laughed, “That’s the whole point of airplanes–to get us where we’re going as quickly as they can.” She said, “It sounds scary.” I said, “You try not to think about it.”

Sunday, my son Neil and I logged 625 miles round trip for a quick visit to Columbus, Mississippi, for the funeral of our dear friend Paul Cockrell. The church was packed for the celebration of this dear brother’s life. One man said, “If ever there was a saint in this church, it was Paul.”

“I never saw Paul Cockrell without a smile on his face,” someone said. I thought, “But it would be a serious error to think of that as untested faith or shallow optimism.” This man had walked through the fires of suffering. Over 30 years ago, I preached the funeral for his wife Helen. Then, some 15 years ago, preached the funeral for their daughter, also named Helen, who died after a long illness. The family had known as much difficulty and grief as any I know.

Paul knew about broken hearts and shattered lives, yet he chose to believe in the Lord Jesus Christ who said, “Let not your hearts be troubled…..Believe in me.”

The fellow at the funeral home told me Paul had planned his funeral service himself. He wanted the present pastor Shawn Parker, previous pastor Bobby Douglas, former staff member Ed Nix, and me (pastor before Dr. Douglas). I said, “I’m confident that if Dr. Woodson and Dr. Franks were still alive (the pastors before me, going back to 1921), he’d have put them in the service too.”

What that reveals is that this was a man who always loved his pastors. And, frankly, to me that says more about him than it does us preachers.

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1) Saying No.

Edmund Wilson was a well-known writer and literary critic of a generation ago. When he grew tired of people constantly asking his advice or input, he composed a postcard which he mailed to everyone seeking his counsel. “Edmund Wilson regrets that it is impossible for him to: read manuscripts, write articles or books to order, write forewords or introductions, make statements for publicity purposes, do any kind of editorial work, judge literary contests, give interviews, take part in writers’ conferences, answer questionnaires, contribute to or take part in symposiums or

These days, something new is in the ecclesiastical air: pastors are insisting that “I have the right to be political from my pulpit.” It’s a freedom of speech thing, they say.

The IRS responds that you certainly do have that freedom, so long as you dont mind giving up this little thing called Tax Exemption.

Methinks some pastors are about to find the cost for exercising this freedom is more than they want to pay.

My father has been in Heaven for almost a year now, but he had a perspective on this issue that some of our pastors could benefit from.

One Sunday, Dad drove 50 miles and attended the church my brother Ron pastored in Graysville, Alabama, just north of Birmingham. This was some 10 or 12 years ago, during the Clinton presidency. Ron had a well-known guest evangelist in that day and Dad wanted to hear him.

Later he told me what happened.

“The preacher got in the pulpit and spent half his time slamming the liberal Democrats and cracking jokes about President Clinton.”

Now, my dad was a lifelong coal miner–he worked in the deep pits of Alabama and West Virginia until forced to retire at the age of 49–and a confirmed union member. That almost automatically made him a Democrat, too, at that time. But anyone who thought Carl McKeever was a liberal needs to find some new definitions for his political lexicon! Dad was anything but liberal, and had a low tolerance for fools, whether in politics or any other part of life.

After letting his report on the visiting evangelist’s folly sink in, Dad said to me, “What if there were unsaved people sitting in that church that morning and they happened to be Democrats? How would they have reacted to what that preacher said? They won’t listen to a thing he said about Jesus because they were so upset at what he said about their politics.”

He added, “That’s why a preacher has no business bringing politics into the pulpit.

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I’ve mentioned that once May 1 rolls around and I find myself unemployed (aka, “retired”), I plan to finish writing three books I’ve been working on the last year or two. One of them has to do with Christian fellowship.

Or to be more exact, the lack of it in our churches, the need for it, and how to get it.

On the home page for this website, you can click on a long series of articles on prayer and leadership and Romans, but so far we’ve not collected the numerous writings that are scattered throughout on the subject of Christian fellowship. As with so much of what I write, it’s rather random and unorganized and happened to be what was on my mind at the moment.

To turn it into a book, that’ll have to change, and it will. Recently, however, I’ve actually gone back over the last several years and looked at each article to pick out the ones dealing with fellowship in the church. I might have missed some, but here is what I found:

July 27, 2004 — “What Every Pastor Needs: A Good Buddy”

May 23, 2008 — “Why We Came Today”

May 27, 2008 — “Where Everybody Knows Your Name”

May 31, 2008 — “The Greatest Church Growth Principle”

June 20, 2008 — “What Fellowship Looks Like”

June 20, 2008 — “The Most Basic Element is

Mary Hazel was a longtime member of one of my churches and a retired school-teacher. As her pastor, I was always glad she was retired because she was easily the most negative person I ever met and it gave me a tiny bit of comfort to know she was no longer afflicting her pessimism upon the next generation.

In the hospital or nursing home, her food was terrible. Mary Hazel’s daughter was mean to her and her nurses were rude and uncaring. She was in pain all the time and the doctors didn’t have a clue how to help her. Her friends would not come to see her. Nothing was right in her life.

On and on it went.

One day, I decided to bite the bullet and try something with Mary Hazel. I pulled the chair up to her hospital bed and said, “I want to say something. I’ve been your pastor for eight years and you know I truly care for you.”

I had her undivided attention, although her guard was up as though she was expecting the worst news possible. I said, “Mary Hazel, there is a reason no one comes to see you. You are one of the most negative people I have ever met. Nothing pleases you. You complain all the time. People don’t like to be around complainers.”

There. I said it, then sat back waiting for the explosion.

All she said was, “Doctor McKeever!!”

I thought of giving her that wonderful line from Proverbs 27:6, “Faithful are the wounds of a friend, but deceitful are the kisses of an enemy.” But I didn’t.

Mary Hazel did not want to hear anything further I had to say. And in case you’re wondering, she went right on with her critical spirit and negative words.

Mary Hazel is in Heaven now, and knows all the reasons she had for giving thanks and rejoicing in the Lord during her earthly days. But she can help us to get it right.

Here’s how.

Inside each of us, there is a Mary Hazel calling attention to all the reasons why we should be feeling bad. The economy is in terrible shape. The war in the Middle East shows no sign of ending. I’m getting older; I’ll never be as good looking as I once was; as I age, my body will grow weaker and sicklier. The presidential race is bitter and I don’t prefer either candidate. My church is having trouble; I don’t know where that pastor is leading us; my next door neighbors make too much noise. I’m not sure about my grandchildren. They’ve taken prayer out of the schools and now they’re trying to take Him off our currency.

You get the idea. (Note to my pastor and grandchildren and neighbors: I’m not talking about you. You’re wonderful. I’m just trying to make a point here.)

If you’re looking for reasons to complain, you can always find them. As Rosanne Rosannadanna used to say, “It’s always something.”

However.

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