- End Game -

We had great times. We started serving dinner out of respect for those who came straight from work. We had our little ministry projects from time to time. The Poastor in India became our "remote" Pastor much to John's relief. The Pastor came twice per year to the US to visit different churches. He stayed in our Host's house when he came to see our little fellowship. We spent Thanksgiving together. Then we spent other occasions together. There were babies born, kids graduated and a wedding or two. Over the 7 or 8 years, we became family to each other.

Then came a series of events that culimated in something that hurts to this day. One of our regulars fell from a ladder, thirty feet, flat on his back. He got out of it (with our anxious pleas to the L*rd) miraculously with a temporarily collapsed lung. He was home in time for the next Tuesday.

We had a member who had been in a horrible accident in her sportscar prior to joining us. Rods, pins and all sorts of nuts & bolts in her legs. She'd never pass airport security these days. One of her rods, surgical steel mind you, broke. The doctors told us, "That never happens. She started the whole process over with surgery to replace the rod.

Other things happened, our faith was tested. The honeymoon was over and it was time for the little birdies to test their wings.

John's health took a sharp turn for the worse. We all passionatly wanted him to get well once and for all. We prayed, we did what we knew was not scriptural, we bargained, we prayed some more, we finally begged. John's health seemed to even itself out. We sighed with relief and began again.

John and I had too many things in common for our own good.
Both intelligent, or so we thought and both rebels in search of G*d's cause. We both had a secret passion for the deepest things of the L*rd we could find. Many times John would give an answer to a tough question during the 7 - 10 pm hours, only to surprise us after hours with something that he did not want to say straight out. It was always something controversial.

John was very cauttious about answering theological and doctrinal questions in such a way as to exhort a fellow believer at a level that the believer could readily assimilate without confusion. I admired that about him. His innate sense of discretion. Not all of us were so well rooted and sensitive at that point. I being one. John had a way of looking at you over the top on his "ben franklins" that said, "Stop right there, I will deal with that later." Wise was the student who learned the meaning of that look, quickly.

We butted heads, we were not the only two who did but I cannot concern myself with other's walk, I deal with me.

One of my pet areas of study was the original meanings of the words of scripture in Hebrew. The surface text in every translation I had read, had become rote. John taught me well. I branced out to dig someplace deeper where I had never dug in scripture before. I wanted the tough passages, the esoteric, every last nuance I could squeeze out. I fervently desired to "...prove myself a workman worthy of his wages..." before G*d.

There was a passage that John and I crossed each other on, with great passion. John's interpretation of the passage made the subject out to be a cold-blooded murderer of someone the subject of the passage loved. That went against my understanding of what love is and the exceptions to a vow before G*d. I got hot, labeled John's doctrinal position as anti-semitic, something everyone knew I could not abide. There was a heated exchange and I stormed out of study one rainy Tuesday night.

On that following Thursday afternoon, three years after the study started, I got a call from Mrs. Host, "What's wrong?" were the first words out of my mouth. You see, they all knew if I got on my high-horse, eventually I would come down, if they let me do it in my own time. A call two days after I had made such an y'arse of myself could not be good news.

Sometime on Wednesday, John had called an ambulance to take him to the hospital. He told the ER nurse not to sweat over his care, "It is in G*d's hands now." John had decided he wished to go home.

You see, John got the last laugh. He is still laughing at me. I can deal with that. I would rather think about him laughing at me 'cause I tried so hard not to listen when he wanted to give me the gift of learning on his computer, than to think that the last words to one of the greatest teachers I ever had, were in anger. Stupid, foolish, arrogant, prideful anger.

Now years later, I am able to remember and tell about my shameful behavior to such a good friend without hanging my head. I can feel a sting of chagrin at the sure knowledge that if those who go home to G*d ahead of us, can see or know about us, John is rolling around on the floor of Heaven, in front of G*d's throne in helpless, holy laughter at me. Such a geek I made out of myself.

My computer is the coolest toy I have ever had. John knew that in the stone age of computing. Would that I could spend the rest of my life ministering just this way. With the occasional break to go wash dishes at a mission, or teach a child to read the scriptures and for a Tuesday night full contact bible study.

When I graduated from an accelerated UNIX System Administration course, I knew my (sainted) Mother was proud. What I secretly hoped was that John was peeking over the balcony of Heaven, giving me a thumbs up and smirking at me.

So this is restitution for such a grievous sin. I take up the mantle and shepherd's crook of my teacher and press on, not a baby anymore.

G*d rest your weary soul my dear friend. May He make His face shine upon you and give you Shalom.

...continued in [ "Bible Study according to John" ]

[ Publication Info ]

G*d Bless
~ We live to serve ~

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