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Posts Tagged ‘Forgiveness’

“Ten Years Ago” Series – All Posts In One File

Posted in Calvinism, Forgiveness, Grief, Indian River Baptist Church, Prison Ministry, reformed baptist, tagged , , , , , , , , on September 18, 2012 | Leave a Comment »

Based upon reader requests, we have compiled our “Ten Years Ago” Series – a series written to commemorate the tenth anniversary of the death of our son, Jon - into digest format, with all posts in one PDF file, which can be downloaded here.  Perhaps the series will help someone in some small way who is going through some form of grief – please feel free to distribute the file as you see fit.

The series is actually incomplete.  There are still thoughts on grief I have yet to place in a coherent form and there is still much to be said about the exhaustive sovereignty of the living God – much.  That will follow at a later date.

We still miss Jon.  Terribly.

 

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Ten Years Ago, Part 14: A Wiccan High Priest, Your Son’s Death, A Forgiveness Service, Providence And A Surprise The Next Day

Posted in Forgiveness, Indian River Baptist Church, Prison Ministry, Sin, Sovereignty, Truth, tagged , , , , , , , , on June 21, 2012 | 1 Comment »

For rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft, and stubbornness is as iniquity and idolatry. Because thou hast rejected the word of the LORD, he hath also rejected thee from being king. (1 Samuel 15:23, KJV)

During one of the Keryx ministry weekends at Chippewa Correctional Facility, leadership had assigned me the Saturday night forgiveness service, a service I had Chippewa Correctional Facility-Eastdone many times prior.  While preparing for this service the day before the weekend began, which was a Wednesday, I inserted a brief discourse about rebellion and how we are commanded to forgive – and if we as believers fail to forgive, we are rebelling against God and thus sinning.  For the first time, I also planned to use the above Scripture reference – little did I know how God’s providence would once again blow our socks off.

At that prison, 24 prisoners are permitted to attend the weekend.  Every prisoner in the prison is eligible to attend, as long as he is not under sanctions restricting his movement within the prison.  Prisoners need not be Christian to attend and thus we have prisoners from many belief (and non-belief) systems appear.  This was made manifest when early on in the weekend we discovered that three of the 24 were Wiccans.  They were all relatively young men, most likely in their 20′s and one was clearly more of a leader than the others.  We also found out (from these men themselves) that the one prisoner was the local High Priest.  What exactly is entailed in Wicca can be rather vague, but Wicca.com will give some answers.  Suffice it to say for our purposes here this it is a form of witchcraft.

Saturday night rolled around and it was time for the forgiveness service – and these three men were still Wiccans and everyone knew it.  As mentioned in earlier posts, this service at this prison is conducted in a rather small classroom.  Quarters become rather tight when 60-70 volunteers and prisoners are wedged in there.  When you stand in front of the prisoners conducting the service, you literally have to watch yourself to keep from stepping on the toes of the men in the front row.

Once all were assembled and it came my time to speak, I stood in front of them and who is in the middle of the front row – the one guy with whom I have to be most careful to not step on his feet?  The Wiccan High Priest.  He was a very pleasant, congenial young man who paid close attention as I spoke on forgiveness after Jon’s death.  There came the time when I cited 1 Samuel 15:23 and stated that “rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft.”  I can’t tell you if I made an effort to look down at the High Priest as I said it.  What I can tell you is what happened afterward.

After the service, those prisoners attending the weekend returned to their housing units for the night.  We volunteers and our prisoner helpers adjourned to a classroom for a brief meeting.  At the meeting, someone raised their hand and said they had heard that the High Priest was “upset by what was said during the service.”  Much concern was then expressed by some that what had been said offended the High Priest and that we should be careful not to offend when speaking.  This went on for a few minutes and I remember sitting in the corner, listening, thinking to myself that we have bigger things to worry about than offending a Wiccan by merely quoting Scripture.  Then one volunteer raised his hand and I still remember it as clear as day.  What did he say?  He said he didn’t know why everyone was upset because “I believe ___________ (High priest) needed to hear that.  He needed to hear Jeff say that.”  Praise God for a man who was willing to stand up for the Word of the Lord.

Concern had already been expressed that perhaps the High Priest was so offended that he may not return in the morning.  In our closing prayer, someone did indeed pray that he would return – did he?

Yes, he did.

The next morning as we were waiting to begin the day with another service, a tap came upon my shoulder.  I turn around.  It’s the High Priest.  What does he say?  ”Can I talk to you for a minute?”  ”Sure,” I responded, and out in the hallway we went.

At this point a book becomes relevant – what is known as the “Book of Shadows.”  This is the book a Wiccan uses which contains his/her spells, rituals, etc.  The High Priest had mentioned his Book of Shadows to volunteers in more than one conversation over the course of the weekend to this point.

We go to the hallway.  I said, “Yes, sir.”

He responds, “I hear that you heard that I was upset about what you said last night in the chapel.”

“Yeah, I heard that.”

“Well, I want you to know something and I wanted to tell you first.”

“OK.”

“What you said last night didn’t bother me.  Actually, when I went back to the unit last night I threw my Book of Shadows and all my Wiccan literature in the garbage can.”

We talked briefly and then were called in for the service to begin.

Subsequent to the weekend, this young man attended all the Christian services and even was a prisoner helper on the weekend six months later.  Where is he today – physically and spiritually?  I don’t know.

Herein lies the power of the Word of God.  Augustine was converted by reading Romans 13:13 – a passage that cut directly to his conscience as it related to his licentious lifestyle:

Let us walk properly as in the daytime, not in orgies and drunkenness, not in sexual immorality and sensuality, not in quarreling and jealousy.

Philip explained Isaiah 53 to the Ethiopian eunuch in Acts 8 and the eunuch was converted.  Great is the power of the Word of God.

There is another issue to address here: confronting people with the Word of God in evangelism as it directly relates to their own sin.  Popular opinion within the Christian community today seems to say that we cannot directly address the sin(s) of a pagan because “it’ll turn them off” or “they won’t listen to us if we do that.”  The Apostles knew no such strategy.  In Acts 2″22-23, Peter directly addresses the sin of the Jews who desired the crucifixion of Christ when he said,

“Men of Israel, hear these words: Jesus of Nazareth, a man attested to you by God with mighty works and wonders and signs that God did through him in your midst, as you yourselves know—this Jesus, delivered up according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God, you crucified and killed by the hands of lawless men.

Peter says “you crucified and killed” “this Jesus.”  In another example in Acts, Paul directly addresses the sin of Felix in chapter 24.

Felix had enticed Druscilla away from her first husband and Druscilla appeared to have not divorced her first husband so they were living in sexual sin.  In Paul’s discourse, what does he say?  The Scripture says Paul reasoned about “righteousness and self-control and the coming judgment (v. 25).”  The word behind “self-control” has special connotations addressing controlling one’s sexual desires.  Thayer says the word (“egkrateia”) has the meaning of “the virtue of one who masters his desires and passions, esp. his sensual appetites.”  Paul directly addressed sexual sin with a man – and a woman – who were committing sexual sin.  Paul was cutting straight to their consciences and we see that at least Felix was affected – Felix became “alarmed” (“trembled,” KJV).

Praise God for the power in His Word.

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Ten Years Ago, Part 13: A Prisoner’s 40-Year Long Battle With Unforgiveness Comes To A Head – LOUDLY

Posted in Forgiveness, Indian River Baptist Church, Prison Ministry, Sin, Truth, tagged , , , , , , on June 14, 2012 | Leave a Comment »

It is interesting the requests that are made after the story of forgiveness after Jon’s death is presented – the issues that prisoners wish to talk to me about – somehow, they must feel I can relate and conversely, they say they can identify with me in some manner.  One such incident follows.

A Christian prisoner who had been attending our weekly bible study at what was the Straits Correctional Facility signed up for the Keryx weekend.  He was a very mild-mannered man – quiet, peaceful-appearing.  As we know from Alice In Wonderland, though, things are not always as they appear.  Such was the case with this man.

It is surprising what issues people are hiding.  People may appear very content, at peace, with no issues that are percolating, over either the short-term or over a period of many years.  Our church culture, to some degree, can be so that a person can have the sense that to express these issues to anyone would be a matter of shame.  We don’t do a very good job of enabling and encouraging people to deal openly with topics such as arise here, and going further, allowing people to obey James 5:16.

The Saturday session arrived and nothing seemed different with my friend.  After I made my presentation which included the story of Jon’s death and forgiveness, my friend requested some time and we were granted some time and place to talk.  The Keryx weekends at that prison are conducted in the prison gymnasium, with tarps stretched across the gym at various places to serve as ‘walls” of sorts, dividing the gym into “rooms.”  In the center is the room used as a chapel and around the edge of the room are some metal bleachers.  We sat on one of the metal bleachers.

The conversation was very generic and he didn’t appear to have any real issues, until he became very quiet.  He started to squirm – literally.  Beads of sweat popped up on his forehead and this was all within 30 seconds.  I said nothing.  The bleacher started to rock a little as he squirmed.  Then all of a sudden, “POW!!”  He punched the metal bleacher with everything he had and it made this very loud noise – VERY loud – a noise that rang through the gym.  The chaplain popped his head around the corner of the trap and said, “Everything OK?”  I said “Yes,” as the man got up and started to pace around the room.  I walked over to him and he just wanted to be alone.  I asked the chaplain if we could go into another room where we would be behind a closed door and he said he would take care of it, which we did after a few minutes.

This man was in his late 40′s.  The issue?  he had been hiding it for 40 years.  When he was about eight years old he and his friend of the same age were invited to a bible camp by a man.  They got permission, signed up and went.  They became friends with this man who took great interest in their lives.  Too much interest.  The interest quickly turned sexual.  The man molested my friend and his friend for two years.  At bible camp.  At Christian gatherings.  The shame and fear turned to anger as my friend grew up.  The anger bubbled for 40 years and finally came out in the furious punching of the bleacher.

 By the time the day ended, after our service focusing on forgiveness, my friend had forgiven the man.  The next day, when he returned, I asked him how he had slept.  He had told me the day before he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in 40 years.  He said, “I slept straight through the whole night.  It was great.”  Praise God.

The power unforgiveness holds over a person is incredible, even for the Christian.  Praise God for the grace given to this man, even after 40 years of torment.  Praise God.

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Ten Years Ago, Part 12: A Jewish Prisoner Who Can’t Believe You Forgave The Person Responsible For Your Son’s Death

Posted in Doctrine, Forgiveness, Grief, Indian River Baptist Church, Prison Ministry, reformed baptist, Truth, tagged , , , , , , , , on June 13, 2012 | Leave a Comment »

During the Keryx ministry three-day weekends, at two points the issue of forgiveness is addressed.  One is during a lengthy talk mid-morning on Saturday and then later that day at a service which focuses exclusively on the issue of forgiveness.  This account involves related incidents from two of those weekends, one in 2000 and the other from 2003.

In April of 2000, I encountered a prisoner who was rather unique.  He is serving a life sentence and he is Jewish.  He attended the Keryx weekend at Chippewa Chippewa Correctional Facility-EastCorrectional and for some reason took a liking to me.  For the subsequent couple years he was at that facility, he sat with my wife and I regularly at Keryx gatherings.

On Friday and Saturday during the weekend, we eat our afternoon meal in the prison cafeteria, although no one calls it a “cafeteria.”  It’s either “the kitchen” or “the chow hall.”  This meal is the regular meal prepared for the prisoners – we eat what the prisoners eat at this meal.

On our walk across the yard to the kitchen, I was walking with this Jewish prisoner.  About 50 yards away, a line of prisoners was walking toward a housing unit.  All of a sudden, my friend yells, “______________!!” to one of the prisoners in that line 50 yards away.  The prisoner turns, raises his hand to acknowledge the call, but does not respond verbally.  My friend turns to me and says, “That man I just yelled at?  He’s the angriest man I know (and my friend had been in prison for 15 years at that point).  He really needs to attend this weekend.”  Keep in mind my friend is Jewish and the Keryx weekend is intentionally evangelistic and explicitly Christian, proclaiming a message of salvation in Christ alone and his friend to whom he has yelled is Jewish as well, as my friend tells me.

A few years pass.  I have pretty much forgotten the encounter in the yard.  It’s now the Fall of 2003.  The prisoners show up for the weekend and among them is…guess who? The “angriest man I know.”  To be sure, he was still angry.  He spent Thursday night and all day Friday at a distance from the other men at his table.  He sat there most of the time leaning back with his arms folded, scowling.

Saturday morning rolls around and I present the talk that includes the topic of forgiveness and I talk about Jon’s death and having forgiven Jon’s best friend.  About 15 minutes after I finish, there’s time for a break and I am just standing in the hall, leaning against the wall.  All of sudden there’s someone one in front of me – who is it?  It’s “the angriest man I know.”  Before I can say anything, he says, “I need to talk to you.”  I say, “OK,” and tell him I’ll get us somewhere private.  He says, “I don’t need that.  I want to talk to you here.  NOW.”  I explain that if we do it there, now, he won’t have the setting of privacy and our communication will not be privileged.  He says he doesn’t care and wants to talk NOW.  I said, “OK” and moved down the hall a few yards to get out of the main traffic.

What does he want to talk about?  ”How could you forgive the guy who did that to your son?”  I told him it was only by the grace of God and that I was commanded to do so by the God who grants grace.  Why does he want to know?  He wants to know because of the source of his anger.  That source?  A man who had sexually assaulted his young son and who was now incarcerated for that crime.   I asked him, “You’re Jewish, right?”  Hes aid he was.  I asked him if he had talked to his rabbi about this.  he said he had and in fact had talked to two rabbis about it.  I asked him what they said.  He said one rabbi told him he was to forgive and the other had said he didn’t have to forgive.  I asked, “Which one is right?”  ”I don’t know.”  ”Let me ask you this: do you really want to forgive the guy who did that to your son?”  ”I don’t know.”  ”Can you sleep at night?”  ”No.”  Well, I can.  That’s what happens when you forgive.”  ”I can’t.”  ”Yes, you can, but you won’t.  You’ve decided it’s more important for you to hate that guy than to do what you know is right and forgive him and let God deal with him.”  ”I just can’t.”

We eventually sat down and talked for about an hour.  What pained him much as well was the fact that this hatred for this other man (expressed by the fact he told me had fellow Jewish prisoners within the system giving that man “messages” [prison 'messages' being some form of violence] reminding him that the father of his victim was still out there, waiting his turn to exact vengeance) had caused him to lose his faith.  He loved his Jewishness and he had lost fellowship and intimacy in worship because of the hatred he held for this other man.  What I told him was that I could only express the Christian view on the matter and that if he desired to remain a Jew he’d have to find a Jewish solution to his problem.

By the time our discussion ended, he was smiling.  He did something interesting later in the day.

On another break there’s a tap on my shoulder.  It’s the Jewish prisoner.  He says, “I want you to come with me.”  I respond, “Where?”  Volunteers can’t just go anywhere – we are limited on where we can and with whom we can go.  He points down to the end of the hallway where a prisoner is standing and says, I need to talk to _________ and I want you to come with me.”  ”OK.”  We go down to the end of the hall and I have no idea what’s coming.

He walks up to the other prisoner and tells him that he knows he’s given him a “hard time” (which can mean anything, including violence) but that he knows he’s been wrong in doing so and he asks the prisoner if he will forgive him.  The prisoner (a Christian) is just dumbfounded from the look on his face, but he says, “Well, sure.  Apology accepted and I forgive you.”

The Jewish prisoner and I walk back down the hall.  He says, “That felt good.”  I said, “You ready to forgive ____________ yet?”  He smiles.  ”No, not yet.”

Sunday arrives.  It’s mid-morning.  He wants to talk again.  The topic?  He says he’s regaining his Jewish faith.  I said what was happening was the Spirit of God was enlightening him and what was happening to him was the Christian message working in him.  He says he doesn’t want to leave Judaism.  I told him becoming a Christian isn’t leaving Judaism, it’s embracing the fulfillment of everything Judaism has been waiting for in the person of Christ.  He says he doesn’t want any of that – he just wants to be a good Jew.  ”Are you ready to forgive ______________?”  Another smile.  ”No, not yet.”

Our last service begins and at its end there is a time where the prisoners form a line and we have one last chance to say goodbye before we leave.  This is the last time we will see many of these prisoners.  I get to the point in the line where my Jewish friend is and we greet each other and he embraces me and as I start moving on to the next man I stop and ask him, “You ready to forgive that guy?”  This big grin curls up the corners of his mouth.  ”No.  Not yet.”

Shortly thereafter that prisoner was transferred to a higher security prison, most likely because he had encountered some trouble with th staff or another prisoner, which may well have been another manifestation of his anger at the man who assaulted his son.

If only that prisoner knew true forgiveness.  If only he knew the One who not only forgives us upon faith in His Son, but also empowers those who have bowed the knee to Him so that we can – and must – forgive others.  Where is this man now?  I have no idea, but think of him often.  I pray he has since seen the Light.

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Ten Years Ago, Part 11c: Forgiveness After Your Son’s Death – The Accused, Attorneys And “What is Justice?”

Posted in Forgiveness, Grief, Indian River Baptist Church, reformed baptist, Truth, tagged , , , , , on June 12, 2012 | Leave a Comment »

Five months after the preliminary hearing where Jon’s friend was bound over for trial, the criminal trial occurred.  The trial was scheduled to last one week.  My prayer going in was to “just get it over with, Lord.”  That, He did.

As the second day of trial was beginning the prosecutor waved me up to the rail.  He said he needed to discuss a plea agreement with me – very much to our surprise.  Being surprised, I didn’t want us to make any rash decisions and told the prosecutor we would discuss the matter at lunch.  It was not easy sitting in the courtroom waiting for lunch, as testimony was given concerning Jon’s death, including attorneys waving 8 x 10 photos around to show the jury – my head was down when that was happening because I didn’t want to see any crime scene photos. (After the trial, our family was offered the opportunity to see the photos.  Two of our children accepted the offer.  My wife and I did not.  What we saw in Jon’s casket was bad enough.)

The trial adjourned for lunch and we went downstairs to a small room where the prosecutor laid out the state of affairs.  Here’s where the question in the title of this post arose: what is ‘justice?’  Jon’s friend was on trial for three 15-year felonies.  If found guilty, it was possible for him to serve up to fifteen years in prison.  Was that “just?”  My personal take had been that 15 years was too much.  Given the nature of our system, though, that was where things were.  The prosecutor proposed a plea – for Jon’s friend to plead guilty to what is called a “high court misdemeanor.”  Those of us who grew up in Michigan in the 60′s and 70′s were taught that there were two types of convictions: misdemeanor and felony.  The general rule was that misdemeanors were punishable by up to one year in a county jail, while felonies were punishable by more than one year in a state prison.  In the meantime, Michigan created a new category – the “high court misdemeanor.”   A high court misdemeanor is punishable by up to two years of confinement.  The sentence could be served in a county jail or a state prison – in a jail if under one year, in a prison if more than one year.

If Jon’s friend pled guilty to a high court misdemeanor (in this case “negligent homicide”), he would be subject to a sentence ranging from six months to two years.  Again, it would be served in either a county jail or a state prison, depending upon its length.  What is “just” here?  Did we believe Jon’s friend had intentionally, deliberately, killed Jon?  No.  Was Jon’s friend responsible?  Yes.  Was Jon’s friend drunk when he ran over Jon (as was Jon)?  Yes.  Is punishment necessary?  Depends upon your perspective.  Some have held that as Christians we should never be interested in seeing anyone punished for sins or crimes – that we are only to forgive and move on.  Is that the biblical charge?  It depends.  We see in the Old Testament an example of the Lord both pardoning people and holding them accountable for the issue which He had pardoned, with accountability resulting in punishment (Numbers 14:13-23).

At this time I had been volunteering at our local jail for six years.  I knew enough to know that as jails go, this one was considered a “country club” of sorts, as much as a jail can be such.  My wife has a story concerning someone she mentored for a year in that jail which would boggle your mind.  It is also my understanding that things are not so at the current time at that jail.  Once again, what is justice?  What is “right?”  What is proper punishment?  Or should punishment by incarceration even be part of the equation?  Is believing that incarceration be part of punishment seeking improper vengeance?  After discussing the issue with our family and making phone calls to family members who were unable to attend, we made a proposal:  Jon’s friend to plead guilty to negligent homicide with the requirement that his sentence be served in a state prison.  The prosecutor walked the proposal around the corner to Jon’s friend and his attorney.  He was back in less than five minutes saying the plea had been accepted.

Is is curious the reaction we received from the locals in our small village afterward.  Many could not believe that Jon’s friend at worst would serve two years in prison.  They thought we were crazy to have agreed to such a proposal.  The prosecutor had told us he would do whatever we wished with regard to a plea.  If we had desired no plea and wanted the trial to continue, he would have continued the trial.  Our family put the final decision in my hands.  I now have a hint of what a judge wrestles with when he or she is deciding upon how to sentence a person for a crime.  ’Tis not an easy thing to consider.

The plea was submitted and my prayer was answered: the trial was over, five days before we had been told it would end.  What now?  Six weeks until a sentencing hearing where we, as “victims” under Michigan law, would be permitted to speak.  Forgiveness became an issue there as well.

At the sentencing hearing, there was some legal jockeying between the prosecutor and the defense attorney before testimony was to begin.  It came time for the defense attorney to speak on behalf of Jon’s friend.  What he said was…….indescribable, at least to us.  What follows is from the official court transcript of the sentencing hearing. (click on the link to read the transcript excerpt) Keep in mind this is in open court where they write down everything said.

THE COURT: Do you wish to make a statement on behalf of your client, Mr. ____?
MR. ____: Thank you, your honor, I do.  Your Honor, you know, as lawyers we are always trying to make our truth fit the reality and really, considering what reality we work with, the truth very, very rarely fits. This is a case of a perfect example of that, okay. (emphasis added)

Moments later, he then said:

We’re not here on this plea agreement because the defendant had a witness problem. We’re not here on this plea agreement because the prosecutor had difficulty with the case. We are here because both the prosecutor and the defendant and Jonathan’s parents graced and blessed a plea agreement that allowed the defendant to plead guilty to reduced charges.
There’s a lot of discussion in our courts these days, there’s a lot of uproar these days about how we separate ourselves from God and we separate ourselves from religion. There’s an uproar. But I can tell you today for all people present, God is here today and God’s commandments are here today and that this plea agreement is the embodiment of those commandments. This plea agreement which commands us to love God and love each other especially under circumstances in which we’re angry, especially under circumstances in which we’ve been hurt and harmed. It’s child’s play. It’s simple to love people who treat us nicely. It’s simple to love people who don’t hurt us and who protect us. And the Peterson’s, defined as Christians by their actions, defined as Christians by their words, put their blessings on a plea agreement under circumstances that would have been very, very difficult to do on the second day of trial. On a day of trial in which many witnesses would have accused the lawyer, me, of pure and absolute beguilement, of manipulating and exploiting facts, of making things up, which is what we do. (emphasis added)

We were sitting there stunned.  This attorney just told everyone what many people joke about as being what lawyers do because they are lawyers.  This attorney had presented himself as a Christian.  He attended a church with my boss.  And he just told the judge that lawyers a) try to make their truth fit reality and it very rarely fits, and b) that lawyers – he – make things up and manipulate and exploit facts.  We were dumbfounded.  The judge was not amused.  As the attorney attempted to continue in this vein, he shut the attorney down by saying “This is not about you, Mr. __________.” (A few months later I had occasion to talk to the court administrator, who had worked for the judge for many years.  She said after the hearing, she heard a swishing sound coming from the judge’s chambers.  Swish, swish, swish…what was it?  She went in and found the judge pacing briskly back and forth – why?  Because he was walking off his anger at what the defense attorney had said.  She said in all her years she had never seen him so angry.)

Time for another decision; forgive or not forgive?  There was a few minutes prior to the time when our family would be permitted to speak.  My prepared remarks said I had forgiven Jon’s best friend, which I had.  Now, however, I had another decision to make: forgive or not forgive.  By the grace of God and by grace alone, I forgave.

The article in our local newspaper the next day said the hearing was “highly emotional.”  Indeed it was.  Two of our children spoke.  My wife spoke and then my turn came.  What do you say at this point?  Think back to Part 11a, where we included the video of the father of one the victims of the “Green River Killer” expressing forgiveness at his sentencing hearing.  What I actually said deviated a little from my prepared text, in part because at times I couldn’t see my text through the tears.  The prepared text is included below, including some very personal details about our family that are not easy to discuss.  The court transcript does not reflect my exact words – I received a phone call from the court after the hearing saying the court reporter didn’t get everything I said because she was crying so much during my speaking and they asked me to forward my prepared text so it could be entered into the official transcript.  She was 10 feet in front of me while I was doing it – my tears were such I couldn’t see her tears.

The hearing ended.  The family of Jon’s best friend was there, as would be expected.  Two memories remain.  The first was walking out of the courtroom and a man approaches me whom I’ve never met – he walked across the hall and introduced himself.  He was the pastor of one of the older brothers of Jon’s best friend.  He said, “I’m ______________.  I’m (elder brother of Jon’s friend)’s pastor.  I just want you to know I think you spoke the truth in there and I have no problem with anything you said.”

Wow.  I mumbled “Thank you.”

Then we finally left the building.  The father of Jon’s best friend is standing on the sidewalk with other family members and he is in tears, as would be expected, given the finality of hearing his son being sent to prison.  What do I do?  What should I do?  All I can report is what I actually did.  I walked up to him, looked him in the eye, gave him a hug and said, “You keep on loving that boy.”  Through his tears he responded, “I will.”  We shook hands and we departed.

With all that had happened up to this point, looking back, I cannot imagine having lived life if I had not forgiven.  Over the years in the prisons, I have seen the consequences of unforgiveness in many prisoners and we will review some of that in upcoming posts.  Praise God He was generous in granting me grace enabling me to forgive.  Praise God, indeed.

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Sentencing Hearing Statement, January 20, 2004

Your honor, I thank the court for this chance to express myself.  I would ask for the court’s patience, because it will be very difficult for me to get through this.

It has been 599 days since May 29, 2002.  I have been wrestling about what to say right now for 599 days.  You have heard the pain that some of my family members are experiencing.  A few of our child have chosen not to speak, for reasons that are personal to them and we understand.  Our 19-year-old daughter could not make it here from college today.  Our pain is all different.  Ken and Heather speak of an older sibling’s pain of losing their little brother.  You heard the pain and anguish from a mother’s point of view when Sheryl spoke.  All I can do now is tell you what’s on the heart of a dad whose little boy is dead.

As a parent, you take certain chances.  The first chance is the birth of your child.  When Jon was conceived, Sheryl and I weren’t married.  Bringing a child into our world, back in 1982, when we were both on the low end of the income scale, with Sheryl already having two children from a previous marriage, involved taking a chance.  Before we met, Sheryl had been sexually assaulted and had been deceived by an OB-GYN here in Petoskey into having an abortion.  She regrets that decision to this day.  But she could have aborted Jon, too.  She didn’t.

 C.S. Lewis wrote something about the chance you take when you love.  He wrote this: “To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness….It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from the dangers of love is Hell!”

We took a chance with Jon’s birth, just like you do whenever a child is born.  You give your all to that child – that child is a part of you.  But with that chance comes great moments of happiness, and the possibility of great moments of sadness and heartbreak.  May 29, 2002 exposed the dangers of love that C.S. Lewis spoke about.  Burned into my mind for the rest of my life are the words of ______’s mother on the phone: “Jon’s in the ditch and he’s not alive!”  A few minutes later I was told by Trooper Ferguson at the scene that Jon was deceased.  They don’t tell you your son is dead.  I don’t know why.  Maybe “deceased” is supposed to cushion the blow.  It didn’t.

How do you describe the pain of the last year and half?  What it’s done to me, my wife, and our children?  The hole in my heart that will never be fixed as long as I live?  You remember all the struggles you had.  The victories.  What hurts is the creation of memories in Jon’s life stopped May 29, 2002.  I went to a wedding that summer.  One of the girls Jon went to Sunday School with as a child got married.  I sat there crying through the whole thing knowing I would never attend Jon’s wedding.  I would never see Jon’s first child be born.  I would never see Jon and Ian bickering like brothers do, then goofing around together and having a ball.  Jon would never see me grow old.

The things that made you choke up a little when your child is alive now bring real tears.  Jon getting his first bike at 5 or 6 years old.  The bike didn’t have any training wheels.  Jon rode that bike up and down the driveway all day long that day until he figured out how to ride it by himself.  Going to watch Jon at baseball practice when he was 15 and watching him hit a baseball at the Alanson high school field higher and farther than I’d seen a 15 year old hit the ball and see it hit the right center field fence on the fly and realizing that my little boy wasn’t so little any more.  Seeing him so proud of his first car.  Playing the outfield behind him in a church league softball game and watching him dive for a line drive playing shortstop and being parallel with the ground.

Jon was the type of kid who thought he could fix everything.  We always had electronics torn apart in a million pieces because Jon thought he could fix it.  As Jon grew up, he also though he could fix himself.  We talked to him a lot about his behavior.  But Jon thought he could fix whatever was wrong with himself, and fix it by himself.  He also thought he could fix ______.  We tried to instruct both boys as best we could.  One time, ______ said to Sheryl, “why are you lecturing me?”  Why?  My wife and I volunteer in the prisons up in the U.P. and the jail next door.  We lecture because we have both seen the consequences of the actions of men who thought they were invincible.  I have encountered hundreds of inmates, and count over 100 as good friends.  The ones who are honest will tell you that they belong in prison for what they did.  They may not agree with the length of their sentence, but they agree that prison was the right thing.  They also will tell you that being sent to prison was the best thing that could have happened to them because it woke them up.  My prayer for ______ is that he wakes up.  That he wakes up and sees that he can’t handle everything by himself and that he is human and that he needs to do what Almighty God commands all of us to do and that is to fall on his face before God and turn from his sins and turn to God.

No matter what happens here today, the trauma of what we have experienced will never go away.  The horror of what we saw in the casket on May 31st, 2002 will never go away.  We knew that seeing Jon in the casket would be the worst thing we had ever done, but we all did.  It was horrible.  How do you deal with the memory of your 15-year-old daughter hyperventilating and having to sit down twice between the back of the room and the casket because she literally couldn’t breathe?  I hadn’t planned on keeping a picture of Jon on my desk after he died, but that changed when I saw him in the casket.  His funeral had a closed casket because of the grotesque sight of how his head had been put back together as best as the funeral home could.  Your honor, I can’t get that sight out of my head.  That’s why I have this frame right behind me at work, plus another picture in front of me.  To try and have something to look at when that sight of his head in the casket comes into view.  A couple months ago, a patient came into our office – I work at the front desk.  She saw that picture frame and asked, “Are those your boys?”    I said, “No, those are all pictures of my son Jon.  My oldest daughter gave it to me after he was killed last year.”  What she said next makes me cry almost every time I think about it – she got this stunned look on her face and said, “Oh, Jeff..he’s beautiful.”  Yes, he was.

The name Jonathan means, “Gift from God.”  That he was.  In the Old Testament, Jonathan plays a prominent part in the life of King David.  Jonathan of the Old Testament was known for his loyalty and his friendship.  Jonathan Peterson was loyal to _______.  After Jon died, we found out what a good friend he had been to a lot of people whom we didn’t even know existed.  That’s what makes what happened after Jon died so disappointing.  I need to say that I have forgiven ______ for what happened – I did that right away.  I don’t need the anger and bitterness festering inside me that unforgiveness breeds – my Lord Jesus gives me the ability to forgive ______ and let go of the hatred.  But that doesn’t negate accountability and consequences for one’s actions.  We forgive our kids, but they are still accountable.  God forgives us, but we still deal with the consequences of what we’ve asked forgiveness for.  But what lingers in my mind is disappointment.  Jon’s best friend didn’t even show up at his funeral.  _______’s mother and other members of his family did and I commend them for that.  But Jon’s best friend deserted him.  When your son’s best friend lets your son down, it hurts.  I may be mistaken, but it is my understanding that _______ has not been to the cemetery to see Jon’s gravestone, either.  No one can prepare you for the first time you see that.  Seeing your son’s date of death on a rock is indescribable.  Jon died at 19.  I have yet to bring myself to go through some of his stuff almost two years later now.  One thing we did run across was this.  Jon wrote this when he was in 4th grade.  It asked what his favorite age was.  He wrote 19.  If we only knew that Jon would be 19 forever.

_______ may feel that he’s being treated unfairly or too harshly.  Prison is not a normal experience, and it shouldn’t be.  I’ve volunteered enough next door in the jail to see that jail time doesn’t make an impression on enough people.  I’ve seen too many cocky men and women blaming everyone else for their problems and treating jail like it’s not a big deal.  It should be, but for too many, it isn’t.  _______ has what Jon doesn’t – a second chance.  His life is not over.  He has a chance to start over.  His parents can still hug him and talk to him and yell at him if they need to.  We can’t.  I pray that one outcome of all this is that every member of _______’s family AND my own family take stock of themselves and think about it when they take that first drink of alcohol.  The tragedy of May 29th wouldn’t have happened without that first drink for the boys.  Jon paid the price for that drink.  _______ is paying it now.  A crying shame is that whoever broke the law and provided them with the alcohol is still out there, probably still providing, and some other people will end up in this court someday before you, Judge Johnson, because they were not held accountable.

That patient of ours was right – Jon was beautiful.  CS Lewis was right – the only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from the dangers of love is Hell.  We were blessed with Jon for 19 years and 309 days.  The reason it hurts so much is that we loved him so much.  I’ll take that chance any day.  19 years and 309 days of love in exchange for the pain I’ll feel the rest of my life.  A lot of people have talked to us about closure.  Closure isn’t in my vocabulary.  No matter how you try to soften it or mold it, the root word of closure is still “close.”  I can’t close off that part of my heart that is empty because of Jon’s death and I don’t want to.

Your honor, when people ask me how many children I have, my answer is the same as before May 29, 2002.  I have six children.  One is dead, though.  Jon is my son and always will be.  He was no perfect angel – we certainly had our disagreements.  But that doesn’t mean he deserved to die the way he did.  14 people sat over there [the jury box] and saw the carnage of May 29, 2002.   I can’t bring myself to see the pictures they saw.  The vision of Jon in the casket is bad enough.  He was cold.  So cold.  But I just had to touch him and hold him because he’s my boy.  He always will be.  May 29, 2002, Jon’s future stopped.  No more memories to be created.  Kendall still has that chance.  He can change his ways.  He can still make a difference.  Jon is 19 forever.  I trust the Lord God in that I believe He has everything under His control, but God made Moms and Dads and brothers and sisters to love each other, and I don’t think God minds when I cry.  But it just hurts so much.  Thank you.

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Ten Years Ago, Part 11b: Forgiveness After Your Son’s Death – The Accused And Attorneys

Posted in Forgiveness, Indian River Baptist Church, reformed baptist, Truth, tagged , , , , , , on June 11, 2012 | Leave a Comment »

 Matthew 6:14–15 (ESV)

14 For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you, 15 but if you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.

Yesterday we posted the account of forgiveness concerning our son’s best friend.  Today, we will present issues concerning attorneys – and not just the defense attorney.

Six weeks after Jon’s friend was arrested a preliminary hearing was held.  Watching the legal process gave us a small hint of what the men in the prisons whom we deal with on a weekly basis have gone through – and those whom they have victimized.  Throughout the process to this point, we had asked many, many questions of law enforcement and the prosecutor’s office and they had been honest – either they told us what they could or they told us they couldn’t tell us.

The time and the day for the hearing arrived and so did we at the courthouse.  In Michigan, a preliminary hearing is held for the purpose of determining if there is sufficient evidence for a case to be sent on for an actual trial.  We had never been to such a hearing before.

The hearing was held in a courtroom with about four or five rows of seating for the gallery.  We sat near the back and directly in front of us, in the front row, sat Jon’s friend as he awaited the hearing, along with his attorney.  Then something sad happened.  His attorney got up and left.  Here was a young man, in his teens, sitting by himself.  His family was on the other side of the courtroom – and nobody came to sit with him.  Were they prohibited from doing so?  I don’t know.  Perhaps the bigger question was this – were we prohibited from sitting with him?  Looking back, through all this, this is the one regret I have – we didn’t find out whether one of us could sit with him.  There he sat – by himself, a slender young man in his teens, looking at the beginning of a process that could culminate in him spending up to fifteen years in prison – and he looked so, so alone.  He probably sat there for 5-10 minutes, but it seemed like forever.

The hearing finally began.  Arguments were presented.  On closed circuit television, the DNA lady from Lansing gave her testimony.  Others testified.  I sat there, getting angrier and angrier – why?  Because the defense attorney kept saying things about Jon that were preposterous – things that were just plain slanderous and wrong.  Jon could not speak in his defense.  Who was to speak for him?  The prosecutor.  Did he?  Not with regard to the false statements being made.  Why?  In a hearing like this, all the State is concerned with is getting the case bound over for trial and if the deceased is spoken ill of in the meantime, it doesn’t matter.

The deceased was our son.  The boy we had loved through many issues and years.  And now he was being defamed in a public forum and no one was defending him.  I was furious.

It came time for the forensic pathologist who performed the autopsy to take the stand.  This was not going to be pleasant.  It wasn’t.

He was queried about many details of the autopsy, as was to be expected.  Even though you know it’s coming, it’s still difficult – that’s your son they are talking about, having been sliced open and all that.  We knew all that was coming.  What we didn’t know was coming became the problem.

As the pathologist testified concerning the condition of Jon’s body, he was asked a question about marks on his body.  He described something on the underside of Jon’s right forearm.  One of the questions we had asked was whether or not Jon had any indications of defensive wounds – whether there was any indication he had known he was going to be hit by the truck.  We had been told “No.”  We had been told something other than what was in the autopsy report (which we had not been permitted to see or discuss).

The pathologist replied that there was a tire mark on the underside of Jon’s right forearm.  Jon was right-handed.  I remember sitting bolt upright (literally) when the pathologist said that.  My wife said, “What’s wrong?”  I said, “I’ll tell you later.”

Did Jon have a second or two before the truck hit him where he knew it was coming?  Did he know in that brief moment that he was going to die?  That’s all I could think of and I became more furious that we had been lied to.  Do we have a definitive answer to either of those questions?  No, we don’t.  It certainly is a matter of speculation, though.  There was more.

We had asked if Jon died instantly and had been told “Yes.”  The pathologist gave more testimony and in doing so mentioned the fact that Jon had aspirated blood.  There was blood in his lungs?  Yes.  How did it get there?  He breathed it in.  Dead people don’t breathe.  How long was he alive after being run over, his head having been crushed like a melon?  Was he conscious or unconscious during this?  More questions to which we will never have the  answer.  But why were we hearing this for the first time in open court?  We had asked these question prior to all this and had been told differently.  Did they think we wouldn’t find this out during the hearing at some point?  Regardless, my bent toward anger boiled more.

I have a terrible temper.  During college (as a non-Christian) I did some real stupid things due to this temper.  In those years I played shortstop on a softball team that traveled around Michigan each weekend playing in tournaments.  Here are a few examples of my stupidity as expressed through anger.  During one game being played on a field where there was no grass on the infield and the surface was baked hard like concrete, covered with very fine gravel, a ball was hit to me on two skips (not “hops” – this was a bullet) and I used good technique, getting “down on the ball,”  and the ball took a bad skip on the second one and came up and hit me square in the mouth.  Softballs, to be sure, are not “soft.”  It hurt.  Some players on the opposing team thought the bad skip rather humorous and were laughing in their dugout along the first base line, which was an open dugout, not recessed into the ground at all and it had no protection in front.  It was just a concrete block shelter with sides and a top.  I heard them laughing.  My temper kicked in.  Back in those days I had a very good arm and could throw rockets (even at 40, our youngest son said to me when I threw hard as we played catch, he could “hear the ball coming.”  Those days are lonngg gone…).  I picked up the ball, which was at my feet and threw a rocket.  Not back to the pitcher.  I threw it at the players in the opposing dugout.  Two of them ducked out of the way just in time as the ball hit the blocks behind them with a loud “Crack!”  Needless to say, they were not amused and this almost started a fight.

In another tournament, I was coming across second base taking a throw from our second baseman, trying to turn a double play.  The runner coming from first went 6-8 feet out of the baseline to take me out, rolling my knees in the process.  One problem.  This guy was about 6’5″ and must have gone about 275.  I was 5’10″ and 175.  What do I do? I jumped up and got in his face and start screaming at him.  In God’s providence, I was blessed he didn’t pick me up and break me like a twig.  My teammates came and tore me away from him before I did anything else stupid.  That’s the latent temper that manifested itself as I listened in the courtroom.  I was livid.

It came time for the one break in the five-hour hearing.  We asked if there was somewhere we could go by ourselves and were directed to a small room adjacent to the courtroom.  My wife and I went in and sat down.  She asked what was wrong.  I told her.  I was so angry I did something I had never done before and hope to never do again:  I was so angry I cried tears of anger.  Does this circumstance permit me to retain my anger?  Am I given license to hold onto this rage because “God understands?”  No.  The Bible tells us – commands us – to do what is cited in the passage at the top of this post.  There are no extenuating circumstances where the Christian is permitted to disobey the charge of Matthew 6.  My choice that day was the same as we all have every day as we encounter life and its pitfalls and foibles: do I or don’t I forgive?

It took a while that day but I did forgive.  It was more important to me to rid myself of the anger than to retain ownership of it.  Was it hard or easy?  It’s only as hard as we make it.  God equips His people to do what he commands.  Our challenge is to be obedient regardless of experience of circumstance.

By the end of the hearing, where Jon’s friend was bound over for trial, forgiveness had been granted to both attorneys, by the grace of God.  There was another opportunity to obey or disobey the command to forgive as it relates to an attorney.  That’s in the next post.

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Ten Years Ago, Part 11a: Forgiveness After Your Son’s Death – The Accused And Attorneys

Posted in Forgiveness, Grief, Indian River Baptist Church, reformed baptist, Truth, tagged , , , on June 7, 2012 | 2 Comments »

 Matthew 6:14–15 (ESV)

14 For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you, 15 but if you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.

In an earlier post we had written that our son’s best friend had been a suspect in Jon’s death.  Over the year following, police investigations continued in that direction.

We cannot pretend to know what it is like to be under scrutiny of law enforcement for extended periods of time as was Jon’s friend.  He was eighteen years old, most likely scared as his family most likely was as well.  Throughout this part of the legal process, which played out for eleven months, the direction things took as orchestrated by a defense attorney seemed quite puzzling to us.

In another earlier post, I mentioned a white pickup truck that had been stranded across the road from our house.  The truck was impounded that day and taken to a secure location by law enforcement.  What appeared to be human tissue was found in a wheel well and sent to Michigan State Police labs for DNA testing.

One watches “CSI” and all its related shows and sees Grissom or Horatio standing there tapping their toe waiting for DNA that was brought down the hall 20 minutes ago.  We sat there and just laughed when we watched “CSI” – it took seven months for the DNA results to come forth in this case, and by current standards then, were reasonably swift.

The results came back and were indeed confirmed to be brain matter from our son.  Even though it was not surprising, it still hits you in the face like a brick wall – the thought of what happened to your son to cause his brain to end up in the wheel well of a truck is…well, you can figure it out.

While all this was occurring, legal machinations continued, many from our perspective of a head-scratching nature.  Could we have an idea what was going on to cause such things?  No.  Interestingly enough, however, in the midst of this, the defense attorney sent an email to my boss, they being friends who attended church together.  The nature of the email?  He stated that he knew he was causing a lot of disruption and problems in the community and wished to – looking back ten years – do some cleansing of his conscience (which will be addressed later in this post).

It was approaching one year after Jon’s death and an arrest had yet to be made.  I was serving on a Keryx ministry weekend at Chippewa Correctional Facility and one of my assignments was to present a service on Saturday evening on the importance of forgiveness.  In those days I left the prison for a couple hours to fuflill my role in the Keryx ministry as Trainer for some volunteers who would enter the prison.  At 230pm that Saturday, I did so and was met by my wife at the training site, who proceeded to tell me that Jon’s friend had been arrested that morning on three felony counts.

This is where forgiveness rubber meets the road.  It’s easy to preach forgiveness when all one has to do is forgive for relatively minor things.  When it gets intensely personal, though, then challenges arise.  I still recall very clearly watching a news story concerning those affected by Timothy McVeigh and the Oklahoma City bombing and hearing one lady say she would never forgive him as long as she lived.  (If you have never seen the video here, it’s a must watch.  Gary Ridgway, the “Green River Killer” was sentenced for the multiple murders he committed.  At that hearing, people lit into him about what pain he had caused.  Ridgway sat there impassive through those speeches. Watch the video at the 2:15 mark.  The father of one of his victims spoke and said how he had forgiven Ridgway – watch Ridgway’s reaction.  That father lived out the fruit of the gospel which had saved him and he was obedient to the command to forgive, which is not given with a list of exceptions letting the Christian off the hook if he doesn’t forgive based on environment or circumstance.)  There is also the story of one affected by the crimes committed by Seth Privacky, who was a prisoner at Kinross Correctional Facility (the prison where I speak once a month and have volunteered for 16 years) – and who was killed during an escape attempt a few years ago – the one affected was not interested in forgiving Mr. Privacky for the crimes he had committed.

Was this arrest a surprise?  No.  They had made the arrest first thing in the morning and then had driven to our house and notified my wife, who then drove the 65 miles to the prison as she had already planned on doing.  Still, again, when what is expected actually happens, it still hits you in the face.  Jon’s friend has been arrested.  Does the arrest mean he was guilty?  Of course not.  Investigation had shown, however, that Jon’s best friend was the only driver of the vehicle that night as other family members had disavowed doing so.  Another question was this: just what was he guilty of committing?  Justice is quite gray in an area such as this.  Did he set out that night to kill Jon?  No one believes that.  If he was drunk, as was Jon, and it was purely an accident, what is just?  These are not easy areas.  What no one had ever said through all of this was that Jon’s best friend was not driving the vehicle that killed him – not even Jon’s best friend denied driving the vehicle, as he also affirmd he couldn’t remember driving the vehicle, either.

At this point was where I had to practice what I was going to preach.  In a few hours I was going to be in a small classroom inside a medium security prison with my fellow volunteers and about 40 prisoners all packed in tightly and I was to tell them the absolute importance of forgiving those who have caused you pain through whatever means.

Returning to the prison, I told no one for a while.  Then as we had a brief break before that service, I gathered my mentor and one of the pastors serving on the weekend and I took them with me to the end of the hall in front of the room where everyone was congregating for that service.  I remember crying as I told them Jon’s friend had been arrested.  There was no joy in the arrest.  There was nothing to celebrate – it was a time of profound sadness – not only because it brought another stage of the  process to a head, but for the fact what the future was most likely to bring for Jon’s friend and his family.

I asked my brothers to pray for me.  They knew what I had to do in a few minutes – they knew I had to walk in that room behind us and tell the prisoners about forgiveness – and not be a hypocrite myself and stand there not having forgiven my son’s best friend.  Both my friends were in tears.  The pastor prayed.  This pastor was one who was never at a loss for words – until then.  Here was his prayer, in its entirety: “Lord, I don’t know what to pray.”  An ideal prayer.  What could say it any better?

Romans 8:26–27 (ESV)

26 Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. 27 And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.  

We all embraced each other.  They entered the room along with me.  I forgave Jon’s best friend right there – for whatever he had done, since we knew not the details.  Then I was able to tell the prisoners that – the fact that a few hours before an arrest had been made and so forth.

Forgiveness is a volitional act.  We choose to either forgive or not forgive.  The child of God, being indwelt by His Spirit, can never say, “I can’t forgive.”  That indwelling Spirit enables us to forgive.  Several years after this, I told our story concerning Jon’s death and forgiveness (more on that tomorrow) at a church to a group of about 70 women.  A few hours later I was asked to see a woman who wanted to talk.

This woman had already been talking for about 20 minutes to another woman and was not getting the answer she was looking for.  I joined the two of them.  The problem?  This woman could not forgive her husband – for what she did not disclose and at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter.  She wanted to know how to forgive.  I asked her if she was a Christian.  She said she was.  I asked her what made her a Christian and she gave the correct answer.

“So how do I forgive him?”  My answer?

“I know this may sound trite and be a cliche, but it’s like the Nike ad – you just do it.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“I can’t.”

“This may not be what you want to hear, but here’s the problem:  you say you are a Christian.  The Bible commands you to forgive.  God has equipped you to forgive.  If you don’t obey what God commands you to do, the Bible calls that…what?”

“Sin.”

“Right.  And however he has sinned against you – whether it’s real or perceived as sin, you have to forgive him.”

“But I can’t.”

“No, ma’am, it’s not that you can’t – it’s that you won’t.  You seem to be deciding that holding on to your hatred for your husband is more important than obeying an explicit command from Christ Himself.”

“How did you do it?”

“What, forgive?”

“Yeah.”

“It was more important to me to forgive and obey what God tells me to do than to be miserable just like you appear to be right now.  I can sleep at night.  My conscience is clear.  Now, I could only do it because of the Holy Spirit working in me, but you told me you’re a Christian if that’s true, you not only can forgive, you must forgive.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“Yes, you can.  If you don’t, it’s not because you couldn’t, it’s because you wouldn’t.  There a big difference.”

As far as I know, she hadn’t forgiven him by the time we all went home the next day.

By the grace of God, that evening I was able to stand toe-to-toe (literally) with all those prisoners and my fellow volunteers and tell them how I was able to forgive and how they not only could, but if they were Christians, must forgive.

The defense attorney?  That came to a head many months later, which we will present tomorrow.

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Ten Years Ago, Part 9: “Through Death The Gospel Came Alive” – A Prisoner’s Perspective On Your Son’s Death And Unexpected Subsequent Developments

Posted in Forgiveness, Grief, Indian River Baptist Church, Sin, Truth, tagged , , , , , , , on June 5, 2012 | Leave a Comment »

In Part 3, we gave an account of a visit to Kinross Correctional Facility (KCF), where prisoners surrounded me physically and in prayer, with one particular prisoner’s prayer being quite touching.

Back in 2002, the prisoners at KCF were publishing a monthly newsletter entitled, “The Keryx Journal,” an eight-page assemblage of essays, poems and other items written/submitted by prisoners.  The prisoner who prayed that night in the cafeteria the night after Jon died wrote a brief essay about what had happened and it appeared in The Journal a couple of months later.  We were unaware that he was going to do this and were quite surprised when we were handed our copy of The Journal upon publication.

What happened subsequent to this was more surprising.

Late in 2002, upon arriving at KCF, the prisoner in question was very excited.  Why?  He had sent out the essay he had written for publication and had received a response from Mennonite Publishing in Pennsylvania.  They had agreed to publish his essay in their monthly Sunday School bulletin (and pay him about $30 in addition, which is a lot of money for a prisoner).  It was our understanding that around 12,000 copies are distributed monthly.   It was published early in 2003.

Someone somewhere read it, because not too long afterward the prisoner received a letter from Nazarene Publishing House in Kansas City, asking if they could republish the essay.  The prisoner agreed and received another small stipend for the essay.  They published it early in 2004.

A couple of years later, I was at a church about 100 miles from El Rancho Reformado in casual conversation with a small group of people and one who knew us mentioned Jon’s death and the prisoner having written about i and the others inquired further, so I elaborated.  When I did and mentioned the Mennonite publication, one lady blurted out, “That was real?!?!?  I read that and thought it was just another story somebody had made up!”  I said, “Yeah, it’s real.  That guy was me.”  ”Really?  I really thought it was a made-up story.”  ”No, ma’am.  It’s all real, just like he wrote.”

People do read those little publications and those who read need not think they are fictional accounts.  Ours is decidedly real.

The story of what happened in a remote prison, in a cafeteria with three volunteers and 40-45 prisoners ended up being spread around the world.  Was that my intent when I called and asked if I could go to the prison with those other two men that night?  No.  I just knew I needed to be with some men who loved me and my wife and who were going to be hurting from what they had heard the day before.  The words of a hurting dad, spoken to men who reside in contemporary society’s version of a leper colony, saw the light of day far beyond that old cafeteria and perhaps ministered in some small way to a hurting soul whom we would never see this side of heaven.

God’s providence shines forth again.  Praise God.

The prisoner’s essay is shown below, for ease of reading.  The links can be clicked to see the original publications.  The Mennonite publication is Copyright 2003 by Faith and Like Resources.  The Nazarene publication is Copyright 2004 by WordAction Publishing Company (the photo accompanying that version is not the prisoner who wrote it).  The prisoner’s name has been redacted for reasons of security and confidentiality.

———————————————-

Through Death The Gospel Came Alive

Last night my son was killed by a hit-and-run driver,” said Jeff Peterson in a voice cracked raw with emotion. Before a room instantly quiet, Jeff continued, “Today has been the hardest day of my life. I know many of you have been praying for my son, and have heard my wife and me talk about our difficulties with him over the last year and a half. I’m here tonight because I felt I needed to tell you in person about his death.

“A lot of people feel finding out who was responsible and making them pay is what is important,” said Jeff, opening his heart even deeper. “I’m here to tell you, I don’t care about that. Knowing who did this won’t change what happened, and punishing the person responsible won’t bring my son back to life. All I know is that my son is dead and nothing will change that.”  Strong words—words made even stronger because they were spoken to a room full of convicted felons. Words spoken to men who themselves had committed acts of violence and caused the kind of pain they heard and saw in Jeff’s trembling voice and shuddering shoulders. Yet, because a man standing fast in his faith at such an emotional time spoke them, they were also words of great healing. They were words that shook a fist in the face of intense emotional pain and shone forth triumphant.

As a volunteer involved in prison ministry since the mid ‘90s, at the Kinross Correctional facility in Kincheloe, Michigan, Jeff knows that prisons are filled with men and women deeply hurt over the crimes they have committed and the subsequent pain they realize their crimes have caused to others. Understanding this, Jeff went into a prison on the hardest day of his life, not to face men in anger, men onto whom he could project the face of the perpetrator who had taken his son’s life. But rather he entered the prison knowing his pain would be understood and he, himself, could be ministered to through his own act of spiritual kindness.

“Jeff really needed you guys last week,” said his wife Cheryl, a week later during another gathering at the prison. “He knew you guys would help him to get through his crisis. You guys sure didn’t fail him there. For that we will always be grateful.”

The pain of losing a loved one is a devastating, life-threatening experience.  As your soul cried out questions no one can answer, solace can only be found in acceptance that God, who is at work, will one day explain why all our pain was necessary. However, this acceptance cannot he passive. Jeff knew that, and he also knew that for his healing to begin he had to look his son’s death in the eye. He did this by seeking comfort from men whom most would consider the least prepared to give it. Through this simple act of faith, seeking solace from men who had caused the kind of pain he was feeling, not only was Jeff’s healing process begun, but the men who ministered to him felt their healing begin too!

“What has been slowly pressed upon my spirit as this day has worn on,” said Jeff, as he sought to put his son’s death into perspective, “is how much God loves me. Loves us. To willingly send forth his son to die. That was an act of love so deep. Until today I guess I always knew that, but I never really understood it. However, after experiencing what it actually feels like to lose a son, well, all I can say is, my eyes have been opened, and I see that God’s love for me—for us—is an amazing, humbling reality.”

Drawn irresistibly by the Spirit to surround Jeff and lay hands upon him, the men humbled themselves before God and sought his in mercy in prayer. As these prayers were spoken the gospel was brought to life, and once again, death was conquered by hope.  Proving without question that all of Iife—even the hard, incomprehensible stuff—is surely worth living, and that healing can come even when it is sought where it normally isn’t found. For it’s not the physical places where we seek healing that matter, it’s the source. And when the source is God, he is bound only by the limitations we place upon him.

PURPOSE:  Purpose cover, Purpose essay page 1, Purpose essay page 2

STANDARD: Standard cover, Standard essay

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Classic Repost: Josh Gelatt, Indian River Baptist Church Sermon Excerpt, Easter Sunday, 2009

Posted in Church History, Doctrine, Forgiveness, Indian River Baptist Church, reformed baptist, Sin, Sovereignty, Theology, Truth, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , on April 8, 2012 | Leave a Comment »


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Indian River Baptist Church Sunday School, April 1, 2012: The Doctrine of the Perseverance/Preservation of the Saints (Part 2)

Posted in Bible Study, Calvinism, Doctrine, doctrines of grace, Forgiveness, Indian River Baptist Church, reformed baptist, Sin, Sovereignty, Theology, Truth, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on April 2, 2012 | Leave a Comment »


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