Whatever It Takes

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.


Well, why not? How many times have you heard someone begin a story with, “I flew with Jimmy Doolittle.” Or, “I was at Iwo Jima. I saw the second flag raised.”

I thought of my 94-year-old father. Pull up a chair and he’ll be glad to tell you about his experiences. No, not as a veteran of the war, but as a veteran of about everything else you can think of. Coal miner, union member and apologist, farmer, political activist, whatever–just pick a subject (I came by it honestly). In the 70s and 80s when I pastored 80 miles from home, I would take new staff members over to meet Mom and Dad for lunch. As we neared the house, I warned them, “You are about to learn more about labor unions than you ever wanted to know.” It’s what the “greatest generation” does–talk about what it believes most. Not a bad thing.

Early Friday morning (too early, I should have been sleeping), I was thinking about the worship service next Sunday morning when the First Baptist Church of St. Rose officially honors retired pastor W. O. Cottingham, (age 86, I think). Something occurred to me. Suppose all those uniformed veterans at the World War II conference this week had remained in active service for their country up until last year. What a strange thing that would be. But that is precisely the situation with Pastor Cottingham. The veterans at the museum seemed almost historical relics, if I can get by with saying that without offending anyone. But Pastor Cottingham has remained on active duty until recently. Truly amazing.

My sermon about him and to everyone else will be built around Hebrews 6:10. “God is not unjust so as to forget your work and the love that you have shown to His name in ministering to the saints and in still ministering.” I love that verse, and frequently apply it to some saint who has remained faithful through the years. “Hebrews 6:10 has your name all over it,” I will tell them. But only this morning–early, early this morning, as I say–have I stopped to consider the message in that scripture. Consider this, Christian workers….

1. Do not expect others to see your work; the Lord sees. (Matthew 6:4 and 6)

2. Do not expect others to value your work; the Lord values it. (According to Matthew 25:40, He takes it personally!)

3. Do not expect others to remember your work; the Lord remembers. (Luke 23:42 The thief spoke for all of us when he prayed, “Jesus, remember me.” Hebrews 10:17 reminds us, however, that He does not remember our sins. Great news. In fact, not only will God remember your labor and your love, but 6:10 tells us if He were to forget, it would be sinful of Him. Pretty strong stuff.)

4. Do not expect others to reward you; the Lord will reward you. (Matthew 6:4,6 again. And so many other places in Scripture, such as II Timothy 4:8)

The Lord sees us, values what we do, remembers our work and our sacrifices, and promises to reward us. I do love what Hebrews 6:10 tells us.

A few things from Friday’s Times-Picayune….

Recently, Governor Blanco put the screws on the Louisiana Recovery Authority and the firm it hired to process the thousands of applications for the “Road Home” money (up to $150,000 per). The pace was far too slow; she demanded that 10,000 owners of flooded homes get their checks by the end of November. This morning’s paper tells how the company tried to pull a fast one.

The Road Home program sent out thousands of letters this week to homeowners giving them updates on their applications, where they stand, and how much money they will “probably” receive–at some distant day in the future. The letters, they pointed out, are not “final award” letters, but merely meant to give homeowners the general picture of their situation. Then they turned right around and admitted that some 25 percent of those letters contained errors and misleading information.

The most frustrating aspect of that was that the company was planning to include those letters in their report to the governor that, yes, we have approved 10,000 home-rebuilding grants by the end of November. Even though all these are was letters more in the category of one from Ed McMahon informing us that we “may have won one million dollars!” Yeah, right.

Thankfully, the governor is not going to let them get away with this. “Work all night, all weekend, if you have to,” she tells them. “Get these applications approved!”

Hey, we have a new friend in Congress. Carol Shea-Porter who was the surprise winner in New Hampshire’s 1st Congressional District earlier this month has been to Louisiana as a volunteer worker, and vows to keep the government’s feet to the fire to do its duty to this part of the world. Referring to her visit in this part of the world following Katrina in late 2005, she said, “I will never forget what I saw and will never stop speaking out about what was the lack of a plan to care for people in a devastated community.” Shea-Porter says she will be an unofficial member of the Louisiana Congressional delegation.

Shea-Porter is one of two Katrina volunteers who won election this November, the other being Gabrielle Giffords of Arizona.

Some hospital news. University Hospital in downtown New Orleans re-opened Friday, although with only 85 beds available. The problem is lack of nurses, administrators say. We’re glad to have it in operation. Longtime residents will recall this used to go by the name Hotel Dieu.

Michael Kane worked for a medical linen supplier serving two of our major Jefferson Parish hospitals. Following Katrina, he went on eBay and sold linens that were donated to help the hospitals and pocketed at least $44,000. He’s been fired from his job, and the hospitals are turning their records over to the U. S. Attorney’s office, looking for restitution and justice.

Immediately in back of Ochsner Foundation Hospital, right on the Mississippi River bank in the tiny suburb of Jefferson, sits an 8-story garage. I’ve parked there hundreds of times in the last 16 years. Yesterday, a hospital employee cleaning up the place glanced inside a car and noticed a dead woman. Apparently dead for many days. An autopsy will have to tell the story.

The City of Kenner has decided that many residents are keeping their trailers in the front driveway long after their home has been restored. The city estimates it has some 1500 FEMA cracker-boxes within the city limits and wants them out. Why would anyone keep a FEMA trailer after it’s no longer needed? To rent out, they say. Some residents are apparently trying to hold on to the trailer thinking the federal agency will eventually sell them at a huge discount. Very wrong, the city fathers say.

On Paris Avenue in the Gentilly section of New Orleans, St. Francis Cabrini Catholic Church stands out due to its unorthodox architecture. The white roof is massive, beginning low to the ground and swooping up in a circular direction, ending with a high slender cone at the top. Apparently, some famous architect did the work and a number of parishioners are complaining about plans to demolish the building in order to build the new Holy Cross High School on the property. A letter to Friday’s paper responds that the “beautiful roof often leaked,” and the priest has had to take a monthly offering to cover heating and air conditioning for the last 20 years. The writer assured readers that all congregants have had their opportunity to weigh in on this issue and the vote has been cast, making further discussion meaningless.

Every Baptist church that votes to relocate or rebuild, to move or to renovate, knows the feeling. No matter how hard you work to make sure everyone is informed and everyone has an opportunity to be heard, you always miss some people and some others are never satisfied unless the majority bends its will to theirs.

I have no dog in that fight, and nothing I’m involved in right now is remotely like this, so it’s a safe time to make a biblical point about God’s children in the decision-making process. You know all those places in the New Testament calling on the people of the Lord to “submit” to one another? (Ephesians 5:21 comes to mind.)

The whole point of submission is to give in to the other, even when you think you’re right. Especially when you think you’re right. Otherwise your giving in is nothing but admitting you were wrong.

“Why should I give in when I think I’m right?” someone asks. Answers: for the good of the health of the entire body. To honor Christ. Obedience. To show your maturity.

(An old story comes to mind here. Two cars met on a narrow bridge. One fellow leaned out and hollered, “I never back up for jackasses!” The other threw his car into reverse and called out, “I always do.”)

No, we should not give in or compromise on matters involving critical issues like the Lordship of Christ, the inspiration of Scripture, or salvation by faith, that sort of thing. But that still leaves thousands of areas where we may easily show our obedience to Christ and our love for one another and “give in” to the other parties involved.

I don’t think my friend will mind my telling this story.

The custodian said to me, “The minister of education has instructed me to put a wall up in that room. I don’t think that’s the right place for it. If I put it up, it’ll have to come down and I’ll have to put it in another place.”

I said, “Did you explain that to him?” Yes, he had.

“What did he say?” I asked.

“He said to put the wall where he told me.” I said, “Then do it.”

He said, “But that’s not where the wall needs to be built.”

I said, “Let’s assume you’re right. The worst that can happen is he will come back to you later and say you were right and ask you to move the wall. Meanwhile, you have scored some points with him for your great spirit and your willingness to obey even when you disagreed.”

He walked out of the office and built the wall just as he had been instructed. Two weeks later he was back. “He told me to move the wall,” he said. “I was right.”

We laughed. It was, of course, a waste of some time, materials, and money. But more than that, it was a demonstration of a wonderful biblical lesson in God’s people working together.

Think how many church fights and splits could have been avoided over these years if God’s people knew that they should sometimes give in (even and especially when they know they are right) for the good of the Body.

I seriously doubt if there has ever been a church fight in 2,000 years that has honored the Lord Jesus Christ. A few have been necessary, doubtless, such as the Reformation itself. But even then, the enemy gloated over the Christians fighting among themselves.

What if we chose as our motto: Whatever it takes to glorify Christ?