Anecdotes are short, catchy stories, the kind pastors and public speakers insert in just-the-right-spot to pep up a message. The word comes from the Greek and literally means “things not given out.”  In other words, “unpublished.”

Winston Churchill called them “the gleaming toys of history.” They are hard to define, but we all know a good one when we find one. Here are a few of my favorite stories…..

During the 1957 World Series between the Milwaukee Braves and the New York Yankees, slugger Hank Aaron came up to bat. Yogi Berra, the Yankee catcher, noticed he was holding the bat wrong. “Turn it around,” he told Aaron. “So you can read the trademark.” (That’s the usual wisdom on how to hold a bat.) Hank never looked back, but said, “Didn’t come up here to read. Came up here to hit.”

And brother, did he hit.

A patient afflicted with chronic depression called on the famous British physician John Abernethy. After examining him, Dr. Abernethy said, “You need amusement. Go down to the playhouse and hear the comedian Grimaldi. He will make you laugh and that will be better for you than any drugs.” The patient said, “I am Grimaldi.”

Great comedy is said to emanate from great suffering.

Franklin Adams belonged to a poker club that counted among its members an actor named Herbert Ransom. It was said that whenever Ransom was dealt a good hand, you could tell it in his face. In light of that, Adams proposed a new club rule: “Anyone who looks at Ransom’s face is cheating.”

What does your face reveal about you?

For the first half of the 20th century, George Ade was a popular humorist and playwright. Once, after delivering an after-dinner speech that went over well, a famous lawyer followed him on the program. He thrust his hands deep in the pockets and said, “Doesn’t it strike you as a little unusual that a professional humorist should actually be funny?” When the laughter subsided, George Ade said, “Doesn’t it strike you as a little unusual that a lawyer should actually have his hands in his own pockets?”

And what are your hands doing these days?

I’ve told this one to whatever doctor was examining me at the moment. Konrad Adenauer, chancellor of West Germany when he was in his 90s, was being examined by his doctor. “I’m not a magician,” the medical man said. “I cannot make you younger.” “I haven’t asked you to,” said the chancellor. “All I want is to go on getting older.”

I know the feeling. I’m now in my late 70s.

The Greek general and politician Alcibiades was telling Pericles, who was 40 years older than he, how to govern Athens effectively. Pericles was not amused. “Alcibiades,” he said, “when I was your age, I talked just as you do now.” The younger man said, “How I should like to have known you when you were at your best.”

When are you at your best?

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First, a gentleman from Raceland.

You know how you drive through sections of Orleans, St. Bernard, and Plaquemines Parishes and see house after house that appear to have been abandoned? There will be lovely homes newly rebuilt, some houses in the process of rebuilding, and then here and there a residence with high weeds and shuttered windows and you wonder about them, who owns them and what their plans are. But one thing you know–that’s someone’s house.

Jesse Bryant did not know that.

This resident of Raceland, a small town forty miles west of New Orleans on U.S.90, picked out two such seemingly abandoned properties on the east side of our city and drove home-made signs into the yard announcing: “I, Jesse Bryant, do take possession of this abandon (sic) property.” As though that were all it took.

Then, he broke into the houses and had the locks changed. A deputy sheriff noticed the sign in one yard and stopped to check on it. He was informed by Mr. Bryant that he had assumed ownership of the houses since they had been abandoned. The deputy called the owner who came out and was not real pleased.

They arrested Mr. Bryant for burglary and criminal trespassing. He admitted he had been planning to take possession of other abandoned properties in the area.

One of the houses is owned by the Road Home Corporation, and the other is being renovated by its present owner, a local resident.

Mr. Bryant has been reading too many western novels in which people stake out claims on available land, or possibly watching too many infomercials offering great riches by claiming repossessed houses and reselling them.

My guess is the judge will not throw the book at him, but give him probation. After all, he was not malicious. Just dumb. Really really dumb.

(Update a few days later. The Times-Picayune reports that the Lafourche Parish officials, after reading in the New Orleans paper about Bryant’s doings, decided to check him out locally, since he’s from Raceland. They discovered he had pulled the same shenanigans there, and in fact, had taken possession of a house across the street from his 87-year-old mother. His brother has been living in that house. When asked about her sons, the mother replied that she has enough troubles of her own without meddling in theirs.)

Second, Elizabeth Luter, the extreme opposite of the first fellow. One smart lady.

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My friend Rudy sat in my office today and told me the definitive story that drives his witness.

“I was living in a northern state and driving an hour and a half each way to work inside Canada. On the way, I drove through this Indian reserve, a real poor place with lots of ramshackle houses. This particular morning, going past the reserve I noticed a fellow working on a car and lying half-way under it. At that moment, the Holy Spirit told me to stop and witness to him. I didn’t do it.”

“All the time I drove on to work, I kept thinking, ‘I should have done it.’ But I knew I would have been late for work if I had. All day, it ate at me. I should have stopped.”

“That evening on my way home, I decided I would stop by his house and find the man I’d seen under the car that morning. To my surprise, there were cars everywhere and a crowd had gathered. I got out of my car and said to them, ‘I want to see the man who was working on his car here this morning.’ Somebody said, ‘He’s dead. He got killed in a traffic accident today.'”

“That was one lesson I had to learn the hard way,” Rudy said, “and one I will never forget. When the Lord says to do something, do it.”

Rudy may be the most consistent soulwinner I know. He told me of the time he went fishing with a friend and some fellows he had never met. “My friend is a Christian,” he said, “but he sort of compartmentalizes his Christianity. He introduced me to these guys and said, ‘Watch yourself today. Rudy is a preacher.'”

“That did it. They clammed up and hardly said two words to me. I knew I was going to have to loosen them up or we’d never get to know one another. I have a favorite little joke that I decided to tell them. I said, ‘Say, do either of you know how to sell a duck to somebody who is hard of hearing?’ They looked at each other, and one said, ‘What was that?’ The other said, ‘Do we know how to sell a duck to somebody who is hard of hearing?’ They looked at me and said, ‘I reckon not.'”

Rudy said, “WANNA BUY A DUCK??!!” at the top of his lungs.

The men burst out laughing and kept laughing for the next five minutes. (Rudy’s wife Rose said, “That’s a guy joke. I think it’s stupid.”) Rudy said, “But that loosened them up and we had a great time that day, and yes, I did tell them about the Lord.”

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Paul Harvey News this week reported that the four greatest factors for longevity are these: quit smoking, drink only moderately, eat plenty of fruits and vegetables, and exercise. In that case, I said to myself, I’m here for the duration.

But not so fast. There are more factors than these four, surely. I’m not a social scientist–or any other kind of scientist for that matter–but I can name several. Readers, drop your contributions to this list at the end.

Here are my additional top five ways for long life….

1) Obey and honor your parents.

I’ll bet that one doesn’t make any scientific list, but it made God’s. “Honor thy father and thy mother, that thy days may be long upon the earth.” (Exodus 20:12) In Ephesians 6:2, Paul called it “the first commandment with a promise” attached to it.

It’s tempting to be cute here and say that if I had not obeyed my dad, he would have killed me–thus fulfilling this promise. But, this was no joking matter to God’s people in Scriptures.

This is about quality of family life, a key aspect to the fullest enjoyment of life.

When God’s Word lists the most despicable sins the Lord can think of, “disobedience to parents” makes the list. (Romans 1:30)

2) Don’t take foolish chances.

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When they opened the floodgates to allow the overflow from the Mississippi River to cross the Bonnet Carre’ Spillway into Lake Pontchartrain, one thing no one figured on was what might come in alongwith the water. Now, we hear that people are finding dead cows floating in the lake. Logs and trees are always coasting down the river, and now they are posing a hazard for boaters on the lake. The water from the river is very muddy and contains who knows what, whereas the Lake Pontchartrain Basin Foundation has been at work for a generation trying to clean up our lake. So, now, here we go again.

Some readers can recall when you would take the family out to Pontchartrain Beach amusement park and go for a swim. When the park was closed, swimming was forbidden due to the pollution. Lately, the water has been approved for swimming, although there’s no good place to go in. Now, the authorities are warning citizens to be careful even getting around those waters. We’ve mentioned here about the snakes and alligators flowing into the lake–and thus into the city.

Old-timers (that would be my age and better) frequently tell me they see no need to own a computer, that they have done very well all this time without it. I never argue the point, but sometimes wonder how they would feel if they knew what they were missing. For instance….

Friday, while driving north to Alexandria, I was going over the sermon to be preached Sunday morning and found myself missing a tiny bit of information. I phoned my son Marty and left a message for him. “I’d like to know who began the ‘adopt-a-highway’ program. Who started it and when? I need this for my sermon.”

The next evening, when I arrived home and checked e-mail, Marty had sent me a couple of links providing everything I needed to know on the subject. He said, “Wikipedia has the information, and they provide some links for details.” That’s how I found that the man behind this adopt-a-highway program is James R. “Bobby” Evans, an employee of the Texas Department of Transportation, Tyler District. One day as he drove through Tyler, he noticed trash blowing off the truck in front of him, and started wondering if there was not some way to mobilize citizens to clean up the highways. He thought of encouraging people to adopt-a-highway and tried to get people interested. No group or civic club caught the vision, but a public information officer for the DOT named Billy Black did. He took that ball and ran with it, lining up groups, churches, clubs, and individuals to take responsibility for sections of roads. He designed the safety training and even the neat little reflective vests they wear.

I went to the link for the Texas Department of Transportation to find the dates. Evans had the brainstorm in 1984; Black got organized in 1985. Think of that. A program that is now in countries all over the world and has changed the quality of life everywhere considerably—and it is less than a quarter-century old.

One man can make a difference.

To make a difference, he needs a clear vision of what needs to be done, some solid counsel on all aspects of the matter, and a strong conviction in order to stay with the program until he pulls it off.

And, as Bobby Evans clearly demonstrates, he may end up needing a helper, someone with skills he doesn’t have. Someone like Billy Black.

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There was an Israeli town named Shiloh. For a while, after Israel was settled in the Promised Land, the tabernacle was headquartered there. But the real significance of the name for us today hails back to a promise in Genesis 49:10. Old man Jacob was dying and (mostly) blessing his sons. He says, “The scepter shall not depart from Judah until Shiloh comes.” Your Bible has a footnote in the margin, I’m guessing, that reads, “Shiloh means ‘he whose right it is.'” Ezekiel 21:27 is the other place that mentions the word in this context.

It’s talking about the Messiah. The scepter–that would be “the rule,” “the leading position”–and “He whose right it is” can only mean the One who is worthy of picking up the scepter and reigning. Worthy is the Lamb.

When Jesus was born in Nazareth, only one of the 12 tribes still had a spot of ground with their name on it. Judea. Judah, get it? Then, in A.D. 70, when the Romans beseiged Jerusalem, they demolished the city and erased Judea from the map. Present-day Israel came into being only in 1948.

Anyway.

Shiloh Christian Fellowship is back. This wonderful little congregation filled up their newly rebuilt sanctuary at 2441 North Claiborne Street in New Orleans Sunday afternoon at 2 p.m. Pastor Michael Raymond was all aglow, and we were for him. There must have been 200-300 people filling the building with joy and love. Freddie Arnold was there, returned from two weeks of house-building at his place in Walker, Louisiana. We both agreed we have been to quite a number of these first-time-back-since-Katrina worship services, but this one was unique in one respect: Pastor Michael baptized eight people. Great beginning!

In the printed bulletin, the pastor is thanking Operation NOAH Rebuild, Baptist Builders, the Baptist General Convention of Oklahoma, two Oklahoma churches in particular–the FBC of Watonga and FBC of Pryor, and Franklin Avenue Baptist Church of our city.

My guess is that the street on which Shiloh is situated–North Claiborne–wins the prize as the longest traffic artery in metro New Orleans. It begins down in Lower St. Bernard Parish as Judge Perez Boulevard, continues into Orleans Parish as North Claiborne. Crosses Canal Street downtown and becomes South Claiborne. When it arrives in Jefferson Parish it becomes the historic Jefferson Highway. In River Ridge, it runs one block from where I live. As it enters Kenner, it becomes Third Street, don’t ask me why. In St. Charles Parish, it’s now River Road. It ends at the Bonnet Carre’ Spillway. That must be forty miles or more of winding, snaking, twisting, following-the-bends-of-the-river pavement.

The portion of the city where Shiloh Christian Fellowship is located took lots of floodwaters and is still in the rebuilding mode. But they are coming back. The area desperately needs the active ministry of this congregation. (Someone asks, “If they are Southern Baptist, why don’t they call themselves Baptist?” Answer: I have no idea why they chose this name, but we have Celebration Church that is one of our strongest SBC churches in the state, but the name ‘Baptist’ is nowhere to be found in its title. Suits me. Whatever works for them.)

I preached Sunday morning at Calvary Baptist Church of New Orleans for their annual “missions fair” day. Sunday School was dismissed so people could visit the various mission-work displays in the fellowship hall, then have lunch. I walked into the room, saw an 8-year-old sitting by herself, pulled out my sketch pad and drew her. That was about 11 o’clock. When I got to the car, the time was 12:25 pm, and I must have drawn 25 or 30 children and adults. If you get the impression no one has to ask me to do this, that I love it and would rather do this than eat, you would be right.

Calvary is one of our finest churches in many respects. They’ve been pastorless since Keith Manuel joined the evangelism staff of the Louisiana Baptist Convention a year ago. Norris Grubbs, professor at NOBTS, served as their interim pastor until recently. Last Sunday, their remaining three staff members–Doug, Matt, and Mike–all announced their resignations as they move to other churches (Baton Rouge, Haughton, LA, and Savannah, GA). We wish these guys (and their families) well and thank them for their faithful work here.

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“Here’s what the publisher of this book does.” The speaker was John Van Diest. The setting was the meeting hall of the Louisiana Baptist Convention in Alexandria, where a roomful of authors and would-be-writers had gathered to sop up the creative drippings from the mind of this “Publisher of the Year,” so named by his peers in that industry. He was speaking of the first book from the pen of one of our most popular Christian pastor-writers.

“He has put out many books since this first one, each a best-seller,” Van Diest said. “But the publisher who has the rights to the first book keeps on reprinting it. Each time he does, he redesigns the cover, re-formats the book, and raises the price.”

“Aha,” I thought. “So that’s why I have multiple copies of the same book by this guy.”

One smart publisher. One dumb reader. One successful author.

Van Diest was speaking of current trends in Christian publishing. “The Christian bookstore is dying. They’re being put out of business by the internet and megastores such as Barnes and Noble.” He called our attention to the cover story in Christianity Today (April 2008) titled, “How to Save the Christian Bookstore.” The subtitle reads “(Hint: Stop making it so religious.)”

Let’s see now. The Christian bookstore is dying. And here we are, meeting for two days trying to figure out how to get our Christian books published. What’s wrong with this picture?

“My books sell for fifteen dollars.” The conference speakers had displayed a sampling of their books, some self-published and thus necessarily self-promoted. The plan, as I understand it, calls for the writer to engage a printer who might charge five dollars per book. The writer, then, makes ten bucks for each one he sells. If he sells them. “It’s up to you,” the author told a class. “You have to get out there and call on libraries and churches, speak to civic organizations and senior adult groups, and promote yourself.”

Readers of this blog have picked up my stories of Rudy and Rose French over the past two years. They came from Canada not long after Katrina and invested the next two years of their lives with us. When they relocated to Paris, Tennessee, some months ago, I encouraged Rudy to “write a book.” He did. It’s being published even as we speak.

We had a little hand in Rudy’s book. I gave him the names of a couple of publishers, he asked me to draw the cover, and I wrote the foreword. Lynn Gehrmann, our office’s administrative assistant, took the photo of Rudy and Rose that appears on the back. And we are determined to help them get the book in circulation. Whe it comes out, I’ll tell our readers how to order one.

Promoting and selling your book is the hardest part, everyone agrees. That’s why so many self-published writers end up with boxes of their creation cluttering the garage. It’s why some such printers are referred to as “vanity” publishers: they’re catering to the ego of someone who would never see his book in print otherwise.

“But there’s another aspect to this,” our speaker noted. Go the traditional route and have a well-known Christian publisher take your book, and two years will elapse before it hits the bookstores. Even then, you might receive 10 percent from the sales. “If you publish it and sell it yourself, all the profits are yours. You could make as much as 10 dollars per copy.” Good thing, because you will have a substantial bill from the printer to come due shortly.

How much is a thing worth? A book to read, a gallon of gas, a bottle of water, a house to live in? These days, the answers are uncertain, ever-changing, eye-popping.

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Here are the opening words of the obituary for Mr. Jamal El Dine Abyad who was buried today, Saturday, in Alexandria, Louisiana from the Cen-La Church of Christ….

“Biblical Plan for Man’s Salvation

Hear God’s Word…Romans 10:17, Mt. 7:24-27

Believe that Jesus is the Christ…Jn 8:24, Mrk 16:15=16, Heb 11:6

Repent of your sins…Acts 2:38, 17:30, Lk 13:3-5

Confess your faith in Christ…Mt 10:32-33, Rom 10:9-10

Be baptized for the remission of sins…Mark 16:15=16, Acts 2:38

Remain Faithful…Rev 2:10, Mt 7:21, Heb 5:8-9”

The article said about Mr. Abyad, age 57, “He wanted only to be recognized and remembered as a humble servant of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.”

That’s what it said.

You don’t get those kind of obituaries in the city paper. Or almost anywhere else, I suppose. I just thought it was fascinating that the family would do that. I suppose it was Mr. Abyad’s idea.

Bible students will recognize that the last two points of that “plan of salvation” incorporate the understanding of the Church of Christ denomination into the message. Most Christians–certainly the ones I know–say that being baptized and remaining faithful are the results of salvation, not the means to it.

I was in Alexandria Friday and Saturday for the annual writers conference our state denominational paper, the Baptist Message, conducts. The lineup of teachers was outstanding, and included Art Toalston, the editor of the Baptist Press, our national communications office (and a longtime friend; Art used to be religion editor for the Jackson, Mississippi, Daily News and as early as 1980 started running my cartoons on the Saturday religion page; now he runs them at www.bpnews.net), and John Van Diest, the now retired but longtime publisher of great (read: bestselling) Christian books such as “The Prayer of Jabez” and the “Left Behind” series.

I took along the first three chapters of my intended-book on the “Leadership Lessons” we’ve posted on this website, then had a quarter-hour conference with Van Diest while he looked it over and told me what he thought. He thinks I need to aim for a wider audience than just “pastors and church leaders.” I told him I don’t care to water it down, that “this is my group and I intend to write something that will help them.”

“Did I discourage you?” he asked. I said, “Twenty years ago, you might have. But I’ve gone into this figuring I’d end up self-publishing.” He took the partial manuscript along and asked for some samples of my cartoons. I delivered three colored ones to him this morning.

My approach in situations like this is to lower my expectations. Curt Iles, who self-publishes his books and was one of our teachers, showed on the screen a display of some of the rejection slips he has received over the years. Not a pretty sight nor pleasant thought.

One way to keep from being rejected is not to attempt anything, I’m well aware of that. At this point, since I’m exactly one year away from retirement, my plans for that time are to intensify my writing and begin publishing my stuff in a serious way.

Curt Iles showed a photo of him at work writing. He was out in the woods, sitting before a blazing fire, typing away on his laptop. I said, “Who took the picture–a bear?” He said, “I took it myself. Sat the camera down on a stump and ran back to my chair.”

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The levees are breaking–and it’s not even flooding down here!

News reports are flooding the airwaves (hope that’s the only thing that’s flooding) telling that the Corps of Engineers is finding leaks in various levees around the area. It’s the lead headline in Thursday morning’s Times-Picayune, but we’ve been hearing it for days. How can this be happening? The Corps wants to know.

The line that comes to mind from Scripture is this from Jeremiah 12:5, “If you have run with the footmen and they have tired you, how will you run with the horses?” If you can’t protect us in the sunshine, then we’re in big trouble when the storm comes.

They’ve moved the murder trial of local celebrity Vince Marinello to Lafayette. It gets underway in May.

Marinello, you may recall, is the former sports announcer for several stations who–according to the Jefferson Parish Sheriff’s Office–waited outside the office of his wife’s therapist and, wearing a disguise, shot her to death and tried to make it look like a random mugger. He escaped on a bicycle. However, it came to light that witnesses saw him place the bike in his car trunk, and other witnesses saw him buying the disguise. The smoking gun, so to speak, was the “grocery list” of items he had to do in killing his wife that was found in his home. Not the smartest knife in the drawer if all of this is proven to be true.

The publicity–much of it just like what I’ve written above–has been so widespread Vince’s attorney’s have convinced a judge he could not get a fair trial here, so it was moved 100 miles west to Lafayette.

The Mississippi River is at flood stage for hundreds of miles. Locally, the authorities opened the Bonnet Carre’ Spillway upriver a few miles (between Norco and LaPlace) to siphon off some of the river water into Lake Pontchartrain. From there it can move into the Gulf easily.

Hundreds of residents gathered at the Spillway to watch the gates open. The last time this was done was in 1997, and I was among the sightseers. Not a lot to see. Water pouring through the few gates that are unlocked into the dry land where just days before people were picnicking.

The paper says people walking along the lakefront are finding lots of snakes and alligators that washed into Pontchartrain from the river when they opened the gates. Just what New Orleans needs–some dangerous residents!

Another of our churches is reopening this Sunday, April 20. Shiloh Christian Fellowship, located at 2441 North Claiborne in New Orleans, will have a dedication at 2 pm Sunday. Before Katrina, Edward Scott pastored this congregation. He relocated, and Michael Raymond–who lost his church in the Lower 9th Ward–was called as their shepherd. You’re invited.

The two candidates for the Democratic nomination for president are falling all over themselves in committing blunders. Will someone please give me credit for not mentioning anything about it here?

I told my sister Carolyn–that’s her little note at the end of this article–that commenting on the gaffes of today’s politicians is like clubbing baby seals: it’s easy to do, but afterwards you’re ashamed of yourself!

Do you know those little brass vases people buy and station at graves to hold flowers for their loved ones? Some bad guys in metro New Orleans have been driving through the cemeteries in trucks gathering them in like they were picking peaches. They cost $600 each, we’re told, and the thieves sell them for scrap metal, getting a few bucks each. Anyway, local police have been catching them and finding hundreds of the vases. These extremely foolish thieves will have time in prison to reflect on what they have done.

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