The city is excited that in the post-season arrangement of college football games, New Orleans gets the two biggest contests. On January 1, the Sugar Bowl features Georgia versus Hawaii, the only unbeaten team in the “big” division of the NCAA. Georgia has lost two games but many people call them the toughest team going right now. They want to prove that, while Hawaii wants to show they can play with the big boys.

Because of their unblemished record, Hawaii claims it should be in the BCS championship game which will be held in the same arena, the Louisiana Superdome, on January 7. That game features LSU against Ohio State.

The two biggest games of the season, and we’ve got them. On Tuesday after the Sugar Bowl, the Georgia/Hawaii guests will be leaving town the same day the LSU/Ohio State people are arriving. Look for gridlock.

I said to my dentist, “So, who are you pulling for on January 7?” The framed certificates all over his walls bely his Ohio State roots.

“Not even close,” he said.

I pointed out that I’m from the state of Alabama, but pulled for LSU against the Crimson Tide this year.

He said, “But you didn’t attend Alabama.” Nope. Birmingham-Southern. But we didn’t have a football team, and Bear Bryant had just arrived as the Alabama coach, so we all adopted the Tide and quickly became ardent supporters. I’ve gone to many of the Alabama games and have my own Bear Bryant stories.

“Not the same thing,” he said. “When you live on campus and the Saturday football game is the biggest thing going and you sit in the freezing stands with your sweetheart and your fraternity brothers–you are forever bonded.”

I guess so.

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Here is the other article of mine found among my father’s keepsakes after his November 3 death. You’ll see why it means so much to me that he kept it.

NO MATTER WHAT YOU BELIEVE ABOUT HEAVEN, YOU HAVE A SURPRISE IN STORE

(Originally written September 9, 2003)

In the latest Tom Clancy best-seller, “The Teeth of the Tiger,” foreign terrorists plot a doomsday act against the United States. As the team slips across the unguarded Mexican border, each man knows he has less than a week to live, but dreamily anticipates the glorious fate awaiting him in heaven as a martyr. The terrorists fantasize of celestial virgins catering to their every desire and the eternal glory in which they shall bask. The price for such a coveted reward is a suicidal act which snuffs out the lives of hundreds of the infidel Americans. They can hardly wait.

As I take that in–and I scan a lot of it because even reading such twisted thinking pains me–all I can say is, “Are you ever going to be surprised!”

I suspect there are a lot of disappointed martyrs waiting in some celestial dumping ground, eager for a reunion with the crooks and con men who hoodwinked them into believing that murderous martyrdom earns heavenly bliss. They are literally weeping and gnashing their teeth–weeping from the hell in which they find themselves and teeth-gnashing in anger at those responsible for their ending up there.

We wonder at the way some people consign their eternity to others without so much as a ‘by your leave.’ Promise them unending glory or godness and you can have everything they own. Don’t they question their leaders, we wonder. Why don’t they demand credentials from those asking so much of them? How can these people be so brilliant in a hundred ways and completely gullible in others?

The Lord Jesus once said, “No one has been to Heaven except the One who came from there.” (John 3) Whatever else we make of that, one thing is certain. Jesus claimed to be The Authority on Heaven. Not one of the authorities, but the sole authority. Not the angels, not preachers, not philosophers, not intellectuals, not theologians or soothsayers nor celebrities. Just Jesus.

The only Native of Heaven ever to set foot on earth is the One qualified to teach us what Heaven means, what it is, and how to get there.

As for the credentials of Jesus, how about a sinless life, a miraculous death, and a glorious resurrection! He truly is in a league of His own.

That’s not to say Jesus doesn’t get out-voted a lot. On practically any secular college campus in America–and in far too many seminaries–Jesus’ words are debated and dissected and discarded as too narrow, too primitive, and too irrelevant. Some people need reminding that God did not put Jesus up for a vote. In the memorable words of the Apostle Paul, “Let God be true and every man a liar.”

The Lord Jesus Christ was not submitted for our approval.

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This weekend I was looking through some of my father’s stuff and came across two articles I had written several years ago, which he had kept with his stash of mementoes and keepsakes. The fact that he kept them meant a great deal to me, and prompts me to post them here on the website for any use the Lord may still have for them.

Here is the first one….

UNEMPLOYMENT’S GOOD SIDE: It Gave Me Back My Dad

(Originally dated January 8, 2002)

In the last year, both my sons and a number of our church members found themselves looking for jobs. There’s a lot of that going around these days, as blue chip companies cut back and last year’s start-ups become this year’s anecdotes. It will seem strange to some, but I look back to a time when my dad was unemployed as the best time our family had ever known to that point.

It was 1951 and the news came suddenly. Mom and the six children were in Alabama visiting relatives while dad worked in the coal mines at home, near Beckley, West Virginia. He would be along in a few days. He came all right–with the news that the mines were laying off half the work force. Our family would be moving in with our recently widowed grandmother until he could find work in Alabama.

In many ways, it was a dark day, as we moved away without saying goodbye to classmates and our home. To our Alabama cousins, we went from exalted status as northerners with the fascinating Yankee accents to intruders who talk funny and whose father had no job. It was not an easy adjustment for this eleven-year-old.

But the rewards were almost immediate.

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Church doesn’t come much simpler or worship much purer than Corinth Church, a few miles east of Double Springs, Alabama. I preached there last Sunday morning at their 8:30 service. The place was packed out; maybe 45 people were present. They turned off the butane heater, occupying the center of the platform where a pulpit would normally sit, just before the service started.

No electricity, no lights. No cushions on the pews. No piano, no organ, no keyboard, not even a harmonica. No bathrooms, no water fountains. No robed choirs, no stained glass windows, no carpets on the floor. It’s just a room, and a small one at that. No printed bulletins, no projectors, and no screens on the wall. No announcements, no special music. And, in case you are wondering, no babies, no children, and no teenagers either. So no nursery, no classrooms, and no noise.

Corinth Church was started sometime around 1857, typical of the little one-room church houses so prevalent in rural, primitive America at the time. As the country prospered and people moved to town and then the society became more mobile, more educated, and more demanding of its institutions, the Corinth churches of our land were mostly abandoned.

This one was was shut down sometime in the early 1980s; the wonder is that it held out that long. Then, on May 25, 2003, some neighbors decided to reopen the building and have services. It’s been going on ever since. The reason I’m so exact about the years and the dates is they gave me one of their fans. It’s all printed on it.

Bill Wilson is the pastor. “I have to leave as soon as the service is over,” he told me. “I’m the pastor of the Nazarene church at Black Pond.” He and I wore the only suits in the house.

I asked the congregation, “Is this a Baptist church?” Yes. “Are you all Baptists?” Nope. Lots of shaking heads.

“How many of you are Methodists?” A couple of hands. “Nazarenes?” The preacher and one other. “Baptists?” Lots of hands.

I named other denominations and got a smattering of response. “We had a Catholic one Sunday,” someone said. It’s not far from the resort area of Smith Lake, so presumably they attract from that area.

I asked, “When we leave here, how many of you will go on to another church?” About a third of the hands went up.

“The obvious question then is, why are you here?”

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Friday through Tuesday, I’m in North Alabama visiting with my mother at Nauvoo. Saturday afternoon, members of our 1958 graduating class from Winston County High School are meeting at Jack’s Hamburgers in Double Springs for some fellowship. Sunday morning, I’m preaching in classmate Lynn Pope’s church at 8:30 am. (I’m depending on him to tell me Saturday afternoon where it is and how to get there.) Then at 10:30, I’ll worship with Mom and the family at New Oak Grove Free Will Baptist. At 6 pm (I’m pretty sure), our favorite Nashville gospel trio, No Other Name, does a concert at New Prospect Baptist Church in Jasper, and our family absolutely has to be there! We’ll be bringing them a dozen or so of Mom’s turnovers–apple and blueberry–to eat on their late-night drive back to Music City.

(“No Other Name” is the group in which Laura is the “girl singer.” Laura works at the Baptist Press in Nashville and posts our cartoons on www.bpnews.net each day. They are an incredible group. Type No Other Name into your search mechanism and go to their website and listen to a sample of their inspiring harmonies. And if you’re in the Jasper area Sunday night, come down Highway 5 to New Prospect and meet them. Laura’s brother Sam sings in the group, as does their friend Chad. Laura’s husband Chris is the manager. Keep your eyes on them. They are really something.)

Anyway, look for no regular postings on this website until Wednesday.

Now, from New Orleans….

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The Epistle to the Romans is the mid-winter Bible study book for Southern Baptists. It could possibly be the best Bible study pastors will ever do for their people.

I want to make our readers aware of a couple of things here, particularly for those who will be studying this incredible book or even teaching it.

1. For many years, I have prepared a series of cartoons to accompany the annual Bible study book. I’m working on the ones for Romans right now, and hope to have them ready to post on our website within a week. I’ll be visiting with my Mom in North Alabama Friday-Tuesday and plan to take along my study/drawing materials and see if I can put together 20 or more cartoons. Then, we’ll send them to Marty in North Carolina and as he can, he’ll enlist the help of 10-year-old Darilyn and post them on the blog for your use.

My old friend Dr. John “Bud” Traylor, now living in Baton Rouge and teaching “Romans” everywhere it seems, has already been after me to get these cartoons done!

2. Having pastored for over four decades and having studied/taught “Romans” through the years, I have some insights to share on the epistle which should be of help to anyone planning to teach it. So, we’ll be posting “Joe’s notes on Romans” alongside the cartoons.

3. If you plan to teach Romans sometime this winter, whether in a three or four session setting or to preach a series of sermons through it, I have one huge suggestion to make. Right now, while your “pupils” still have time to prepare, get them to reading through Romans. And while you’re at it, you need to do it yourself.

Somewhere I read that the great Bible teaching pastor G. Campbell Morgan said he never began to teach a book of the Bible until he had read it through forty-two times. I’m fairly sure that was the number he mentioned.

I have a suggestion on how to read through Romans: do it at one sitting. Don’t stop to get out and see the sights or walk around in the neighborhood, just keep reading. At this point, don’t get hung up on verses you find difficult or the parts you find yourself savoring. Just read the entire book.

There! That wasn’t so bad, was it. Now that you’ve shown yourself you can read all 16 chapters at one setting without straining your brain, do it again within two or three days.

And then, after at least two full readings at a time, now go back and read it slowly. You might want to take a segment at the time. What segment?

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Francis and Dorothy Green lived in Metairie for all their married lives, the last 39 years. In the early 90s, someone recommended they attend the First Baptist Church of Kenner, and that’s how I became their pastor. They were a wonderful and faithful couple and a joy to have as friends. Today we held her funeral in McComb, Mississippi.

I used to ask Dot, “Do you ever think of moving to Vicksburg, to be closer to your daughter Debbie?” Her only child. “Oh no,” she would say. “This is my home.” Then Katrina hit. They sold their flooded house in Metairie and bought another in Vicksburg and joined the First Baptist Church there. Today, their pastor, Dr. Matt Buckles, and I shared the honors at her service.

Dot was a painter. The first time she mentioned this to me, I thought, “Oh yeah. Sure you are.” The way people are who take a 6 weeks class at a community college, then try to sell their amateurish doings for big money at an art sale. Then I saw her work, and believe me, she was an artist. In fact, she once served as president of the New Orleans Art Guild and belonged to several other guilds.

One day she said to me, “Take your pick of all my paintings.” I was like a kid in a candy store. The one I chose she had painted in June of 2002 and titled “Misty Bayou.” It has hung above our bed ever since. Monday, I took it down and carried it to our office. Freddie and Ninfa removed it from the frame and laid it across the color copier and made a reduced copy of the picture, then ran off a number of copies. I carried it with me to McComb and gave to daughter Debbie to share with their family and friends. Margaret had given me notice that I was not to carry the original; she was afraid someone would try to talk me out of it. “You’re such a softie, if someone asked for it, you’d give it away.”

I was pleased to meet Dot’s sister Kathryn. I said, “I have told a story about you for years. Now, I want it from your mouth so I can get it right.” Dot had told me the funny story, and I had told and retold it so many times, the details were hazy.

Here’s the story. Waylon Bailey–lover of great sermon illustrations–take note. This one is for you.

Kathryn said, “I was talking to my family about smoking. I said, ‘I hope none of you will ever take up that filthy habit.’ Megan, my 11-year-old granddaughter, moved over and put her arm around my neck and said, ‘Grandma, that’s one thing you’ll never have to worry about with me. No cigarette will ever touch these lips.'”

“Megan was quiet a moment, then she said in all seriousness, ‘Unless I’m drunk.'”

True story. I told it at the funeral, and added, “Dot loved a good story. And she got a special joy out of seeing people enjoy the stories she told.”

That’s why I told the other story in her service.

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From my earliest memory, I have known of and loved the Lord Jesus Christ. At the age of 11, I became one of His disciples. Ten years later, He decided I would serve Him in the ministry and called me out. As I write, I am 67 years old. You can do the math.

Through these years of reading Scripture, of praying, studying, obeying, trying to grow and striving to honor Jesus by serving His people, I have learned some things about the ways of the Lord. Few of these insights came in advance, but only after the events, when I looked back and gave thought to what the Holy Spirit had done, to how He had led and taught me.

Jesus promised His people that the Holy Spirit would be our Teacher. “He will teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all that I said to you.” (John 14:26) “He will guide you into all truth…He will take of mine and will disclose it to you.” (John 16:13-14)

The best I can figure, there are 984 ways the Holy Spirit uses to teach any of us. So far, looking back over all these years of serving the Lord, here are the top ten ways the Holy Spirit has taught me.

1. The Holy Spirit teaches us in our failures.

As a college student, I struggled in my attempts to witness for Christ. Before attempting to share with friends or strangers, I literally sweat bullets, the inner agony was so horrific. Then, after three or four years of this–by now I was a student in seminary–I picked up a booklet in a Christian bookstore that might as well have had my name on it: “Here’s How to Win Souls.” A Texas minister had put in print and even in photographs the method he used to present the gospel. I bought the booklet, studied it, learned it, and went across town and led someone to Christ using the principles Gene Edwards and the Holy Spirit had cooperated to send my way.

2. The Holy Spirit teaches us in our everyday experiences.

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My Atlanta friend Jim Graham has a granddaughter–her first name is Graham; wonder why–who is so bright at the age of 9, she could qualify to be a McKeever! The ultimate accolade. Anyway….

This week, Jim told me something Graham did when she was 3 years old. “Darlene and I had gone overboard materialistically,” he said, “and bought her a ton of Christmas presents. On Christmas morning, she was opening her gifts. After unwrapping the third one, she looked at me and said, ‘That’s enough. Give the others to Baby Jesus.'”

Out of the mouths of babes.

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