Joe McKeever

Ah, man.

I hate it when a call like this comes in. A young man whom I wed to his fiancée some years ago has died suddenly. The family says he wasn't going to church and didn't have a pastor, but since I performed the ceremony, would I be available for the funeral? I would. And I'll do my best, for them and for the Lord. But I hate this sort of thing.

I hate anyone dying, but especially young people. I hate anyone not going to church, but especially young couples. I hate funerals, but especially funerals for unprepared people of whom I know so little.

But as much as I hate it, I'll do my best because of the call of God on my life.

I hate it when a church member decides to oppose her pastor just because she has chosen not to like him.

She criticized him for not coming to see her in the hospital as much as she felt he should. She looked him in the eye and said, "You have not done one positive thing for our church." She was wrong, of course. Way wrong.

I said to the pastor, "Here's what you can say to her. The former pastor (that would be me) says when he was your minister, he visited you regularly in the hospital and called on your family members numerous times -- and you still disliked him and opposed him. So, apparently, it doesn't really matter whether I visit you or not."

But I hate that. I hate the way people take out their bad mental health on the one person God sends to bless them, particularly when he is one of the nicest guys you'll ever meet.

Wednesday at lunch, someone asked a veteran pastor, "What does it take to stay at a church like yours for many years?" He didn't hesitate. "The skin of a rhino."

I hate that. I understand it, I appreciate the truth of it, and I admire him more than I can put into words. But I hate that reality, that serving the Lord's people over long years requires calluses and tough skins.

The reality of the situation is that nothing about this is new. On issuing the call of Jeremiah into the ministry, the Lord said, "You will go to all to whom I send you, and whatever I command, you shall speak." Then He added, "Do not be afraid of their faces." (Jer. 1:7-8)

You and I read that and think, "Wait a minute. The Lord is sending the young prophet to His people. Why should he be afraid? This is blessed work, right?" Oh, yeah. (It really is, in a hundred ways. But in other ways....)

God went on, "They will fight against you, but they shall not prevail against you, for I am with you to deliver you."

Ah, man. I hate that. You go to bring God's message of love and life to His people and some of them -- not all, thankfully -- instead of welcoming you, organize a lynching party.

Lately, the audio book I've been absorbing in my drive time is Major Dick Winters' "Beyond Band of Brothers." Winters tells his side of the story of Easy Company, the men of the 101st Airborne who stormed Normandy and fought their way into Germany. Anyone interested in leadership will find a hundred lessons and that many illustrations, positive and negative, of the same.

But there is one overriding difference in leadership in the Kingdom of God -- that is, the Lord's church -- and on the battlefield. Once Dick Winters was put in charge of a battalion, he selected his own leaders. He moved people around as he saw fit. He decided on the basis of the character and talents and abilities of the individuals and cared little how they felt about it, how it suited their career plans, or whether they liked him.

In the church, we're working with volunteers. Many seem to feel they have the God-given right to choose which of the acts of the pastors they will support, which of the sermons they will receive, and which of his ministries they will participate in.

That gets old real quick. The young pastor blows into the ministry full of pep and vinegar, possessed of a vision for changing the world and transforming the church. Then he runs into the reality of old wineskins filled with the ancient bubbly. "We've never done it that way before." "That's not how things get done around here." "Slow down, preacher. We need to run this by Deacon Whoever."

I told you the counsel the preacher-father of Joe and Grady Cothen gave his young preacher-boys a half century or more ago. "Boys, the Lord has put a delicate balance in His church. He has put just enough headstrong, ornery members to keep you the pastor humble. And He has put just enough sweet godly saints to keep you from quitting."

Thank God for those who keep us from quitting.

These are the ones who do their work well without complaining. They do not stop to look around to see if someone is receiving accolades that should be coming their way. They do not expect nor demand nor even desire recognition or reward except from the Heavenly Father Himself.

These are low-maintenance, high-return members. Churches run on them the way a Hummer thrives on high-octave petrol. These are the ones who make a preacher want to give his best, stay in the traces, and try it again another day.

Thank God for church members who are Christ-like, who take their ministry seriously, who live to serve the Lord by serving people.

This Sunday night, April 5, at the First Baptist Church of Kenner, we will set aside as deacons five men who have demonstrated that kind of Christlikeness. They are servants, and the church is recognizing that. All are outstanding men of God, and I give thanks my namesake -- Joe Neil McKeever, junior -- is among them. I have no words to tell Neil how happy I am this day has arrived or how pleased I am with him.

If anyone on earth knows the joys and headaches of life in the pastorium, it's the preacher's kids. Our sons, Neil and Marty, saw it all up close and personal. At Idlewild Baptist Church in Charlotte and at FBC Kenner, Pastors Keith Whitener and Mike Miller will not become the targets of sniper fire from these men. They love their pastors and support them and pray for them for a lot of good reasons, but primarily because they know how special the minister and his family are and how vulnerable they are to attack.

The oddest thing. Once in a while someone will tell me something helpful, encouraging, affirming, or endowing they did for their pastor. I find myself warming on the inside, as though they had done it for me. My spirit is taking that personally. It's an odd reaction and I suppose it indicates the solid bonding of my heart with these men of the Lord.

But if a poor servant like me feels that way, how much more the Heavenly Father. He takes personally the slights and arrows slung toward the shepherd whom He sends to feed and lead the flock. Likewise, He watches as someone blesses the pastor with a hug, a few extra dollars, a casserole, a book, a note of encouragement, or a raise in pay -- and records it in Heaven as though the act were done for God Himself.

What a precious thing, that we can bless the Lord by the way we treat one another, particularly the shepherd He sends to us.

Amen.