World Renewal International
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
It Happened One Winter Night
[Pictured-Brian and wife, Twila]
On January 12 of 1991 my mother passed away. I was not with her. My dad was with her. My brother Mark and his wife Kathy were with her, but I was not with her. I have always felt guilty that I was not there. Where was I? I was preaching in Colorado. I have always felt sad that I was not there for her, my dad and brother and his wife.
Recently, I was to speak at Barclay College, Haviland, Kansas. Before the chapel started a gentleman came up to me and began to talk to me. I could tell he knew me, but it was another awkward moment when I did not know who he was. I finally said, “We have met before?” With a twinkle in his eye and a laugh he said, “Oh Yes! You have gotten me in a lot of trouble!” Shocked and not knowing what to say I said, “Where did I do this?” “Paonia, Colorado,” he said. “How did I get you in trouble?” I asked. “You introduced me to Jesus,” he said smiling and with warmness in his voice. I asked to meet him later and he told me his story. I then asked him to write it down.
Brian’s Story: It Happened One Winter Night
On reflection, it seems like it was a really long trip. Not the distance from the pew to the altar, but the life trip that got me to that seat in the pew in the first place. No efficient Euclidian straight line between two points, this; in God’s geometry, my points were connected by an intergalactic parabola.
Where even to begin? A little background: as a pre-war model, I date to the second administration of FDR. Mother’s family were (and are) of the New England Congregational tradition while my father’s people were (and are) Roman Catholic – although my father left that church as a young man. My parents were both – and I was raised – Unitarian. The church we attended had a Sunday school for kids through age thirteen, and I opted out at the end of the program. Home, school, and social life was stoic postwar paranoid America of the time: duty, honor, country, commies and H-bombs in the anxiety closet, “What’s good for General Motors is good for the U.S.A.,” suck it up and press on, and I didn’t buy into a bit of it.
My journey continued. I dropped out of high school in my senior year to pursue motor racing, and spent a couple of years on the fringes of the Big Time. I found my way back to school, did my senior year over in just three months, and on to university. About 80% of the way through, tragedy struck, my life fell entirely to pieces, and out I flunked: freefall. Many years of substance abuse, ill-advised choices, and unsuitable relationships ensued. Through all of this, I know that I was craving – wanting – seeking – something.
“Something” took the form of an opportunity to fight back, and radical politics was both message and medium. “Hey, hey, LBJ, how many kids did you kill today?” “Viva Che!” “The revolution will not be televised!” “Stop the war in Vietnam – bring the soldiers home!” In addition to the sex, drugs, and rock & roll (which, as it turned out, was mostly what “The Struggle” was about) I was introduced to the Sōtō school of Zen Buddhism of Eihei Dōgen, a Japanese monk of the 1200s. This resonated well with me, and I became a student and practitioner; and to my search for a revolution was added a search for enlightenment.
The revolution hasn’t happened yet, but enlightenment did (The old caveat of “Be careful what you seek [pray for]” is not exclusive to Christianity!). Stated simplistically, I experienced satori as a recognition that an enlightened person is one who knows God. How, in fact, does one come to know, and I mean really know, God? The scripture of only one of the world’s religions has that answer, “Jesus said to him, ‘I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the father except through me,’” Jn14.6 nrsv. An approachable, knowable God! Found nowhere else! The answer!
This development is the line drawn under the existential sum of all that had passed before. Life began changing in positive ways. Deprived of a family for years, I began a healthy relationship with a single mom with four children, a true 1 Peter 3.3-4 lady. I began attending church with her in the little western Colorado town where we lived, and became better acquainted with the teachings of Jesus. And most, if not all, was good – at home and at Paonia Friends Church
Then, a weekend series of renewal services was scheduled. “Gary Wright is coming,” they said. Never heard of him – who’s he? “An evangelist from Ohio. You have to come hear him, he’ll change your life.” Okay, we can come, we could use a little renewal now and then, eh? But life change, well, I just don’t think so, man.
And Gary did indeed come to Paonia for the weekend services, but word was quietly passed that as his mother was quite seriously ill he might need to head back home on short notice. This was not apparent in Gary’s ministry to us, either in his preaching or in his obvious concern for the Paonia people. But then, prior to the last service there, we learned that Gary’s mother had passed away; and Gary would be leaving for home—after he was done ministering to us!
The message that night was based on the story of Zacchaeus, the vertically-challenged, despised (and probably corrupt) tax collector of Luke 19.1-10. Now I can identify with Zacchaeus (on several levels) and his response to Jesus’ invitation to “come on down.” But the Holy Spirit had a more powerful witness for me to understand: when I saw the peace and strength Gary had in Jesus in the face of this personal sorrow, I absolutely knew I had to tap into the source of that security. I mean, here he was, ministering to us when he had every right to have been on his way home hours ago!
So there I was on a winter night, in Paonia Friends Church, witnessing a bereaved man minister to us with the love and power of Christ. And when the invitation came at the end, the Spirit had me out of that pew and down to the altar, welcoming Christ fully into my life as Lord and Master. It was cold, there was snow on the ground, but I do not believe I made any footprints on my way out that night. My life literally has not been the same since. The “before” trip was over; the “after” trip was beginning. And I know all heaven rejoiced, having welcomed a dear sister home and a long-lost sheep into the fold – within hours of each other.
My story doesn’t end there, of course. Gary came back to Paonia and ministered to us the following summer, with another attendant life change, but that is a story for another time. I always regretted not thanking him for his ministry and powerful witness to us that winter, yet God graciously allowed our paths to cross recently, and we re-connected. I finally was able to share my story. Thank you, my brother, and bless you!
And Gary did indeed come to Paonia for the weekend services, but word was quietly passed that as his mother was quite seriously ill he might need to head back home on short notice. This was not apparent in Gary’s ministry to us, either in his preaching or in his obvious concern for the Paonia people. But then, prior to the last service there, we learned that Gary’s mother had passed away; and Gary would be leaving for home—after he was done ministering to us!
The message that night was based on the story of Zacchaeus, the vertically-challenged, despised (and probably corrupt) tax collector of Luke 19.1-10. Now I can identify with Zacchaeus (on several levels) and his response to Jesus’ invitation to “come on down.” But the Holy Spirit had a more powerful witness for me to understand: when I saw the peace and strength Gary had in Jesus in the face of this personal sorrow, I absolutely knew I had to tap into the source of that security. I mean, here he was, ministering to us when he had every right to have been on his way home hours ago!
So there I was on a winter night, in Paonia Friends Church, witnessing a bereaved man minister to us with the love and power of Christ. And when the invitation came at the end, the Spirit had me out of that pew and down to the altar, welcoming Christ fully into my life as Lord and Master. It was cold, there was snow on the ground, but I do not believe I made any footprints on my way out that night. My life literally has not been the same since. The “before” trip was over; the “after” trip was beginning. And I know all heaven rejoiced, having welcomed a dear sister home and a long-lost sheep into the fold – within hours of each other.
My story doesn’t end there, of course. Gary came back to Paonia and ministered to us the following summer, with another attendant life change, but that is a story for another time. I always regretted not thanking him for his ministry and powerful witness to us that winter, yet God graciously allowed our paths to cross recently, and we re-connected. I finally was able to share my story. Thank you, my brother, and bless you!
[Used by Permission]
I said to Brian, “I need to tell you something. Before I came to Colorado that weekend I called my mother who was at my parents home (a ten hour drive from my home) under hospice care for her terminal cancer. Surprisingly, she answered the phone! Her voice seemed full of energy and not at all what I expected from the reports I had heard. She asked, ‘Where are you preaching this weekend?’ “Panoia, Colorado, but I am not going. I am coming to see you.” My mother was quiet and shy, but not on this occasion. “Oh No!” she said, “I am fine. You go to Colorado and do what I raised you to do. I raised you to preach the Gospel, now you go do what I raised you to d
o!” So I did. But on my second day there she died. That night was Brian’s night. I then preached the next morning as it was Sunday and flew home.”
Later, Brian told me he does not think he would have come to Christ without that weekend. My dear friend Peggy Kingery said, “God turned in heaven to your mother and patted her on the head and said, ‘Barbara, you did good!” Yes, momma was right and now the guilt and pain are gone. [Pictured is Barbara Milner Wright with my dad, myself and my brothers Richard and Mark] Having this new information blessed me so on Mother's Day this year. Why? My mother looked at herself through colored glasses that saw her husband, sons and daughter-in-laws as doing good things. Seldom did it seem that she saw herself this way. So she stayed as far in the background as life would permit. It is so wonderful to know that one of her last acts on earth was so unselfish and so righteous. I love you momma. You really were good.
I said to Brian, “I need to tell you something. Before I came to Colorado that weekend I called my mother who was at my parents home (a ten hour drive from my home) under hospice care for her terminal cancer. Surprisingly, she answered the phone! Her voice seemed full of energy and not at all what I expected from the reports I had heard. She asked, ‘Where are you preaching this weekend?’ “Panoia, Colorado, but I am not going. I am coming to see you.” My mother was quiet and shy, but not on this occasion. “Oh No!” she said, “I am fine. You go to Colorado and do what I raised you to do. I raised you to preach the Gospel, now you go do what I raised you to d
o!” So I did. But on my second day there she died. That night was Brian’s night. I then preached the next morning as it was Sunday and flew home.”Later, Brian told me he does not think he would have come to Christ without that weekend. My dear friend Peggy Kingery said, “God turned in heaven to your mother and patted her on the head and said, ‘Barbara, you did good!” Yes, momma was right and now the guilt and pain are gone. [Pictured is Barbara Milner Wright with my dad, myself and my brothers Richard and Mark] Having this new information blessed me so on Mother's Day this year. Why? My mother looked at herself through colored glasses that saw her husband, sons and daughter-in-laws as doing good things. Seldom did it seem that she saw herself this way. So she stayed as far in the background as life would permit. It is so wonderful to know that one of her last acts on earth was so unselfish and so righteous. I love you momma. You really were good.
Note: Brian Hanneken serves as the Associate Academic Dean of Barclay College, Haviland, Kansas. He works with non-traditional students and extended studies. He graduated from Western Evangelical Seminary in 1995 with a Masters Degree in Biblical Studies-New Testament. He has since served in Christian education and the pastorate.
Thanks for stopping by.
:: posted by Gary Wright, 8:34 PM
