Life Together

Yesterday my office phone rang. I answered and heard my colleague’s request: “There’s a pastor from Connecticut on the line. He wants to talk with a campus pastor about Javier’s service tomorrow.”

“Sure, I’d be happy to talk with him. Send him through,” I replied.

I knew Javier had grown up on the East coast, but I wasn’t sure why a pastor from CT would be calling our office.

“Hello, my name is Rob, and I was a good friend of Javier’s when we were younger,” stated the voice on the other line. There were some vocal quivers as he spoke, and I could tell he was on the verge of tears, trying to hold them back as he talked with me.

After making sure Rob was finished with his introduction, I said, “Rob, I am so sorry for your loss. We are heartbroken here at George Fox, and I know there are so many around the world who feel the same.”

Our conversation then turned to all of the ways we had seen Javier live his life with adventure, intentionality, and love. Rob recounted surfing trips, bible studies, and Javier’s academic journey that took him to places like Georgetown and Cambridge in pursuit of his degrees. I recounted how so many students saw his as a “teacher-dad,” someone who could get the most out of them intellectually and also affirm their value and dignity as children of God. It was cathartic for both of us to speak about his impact on us and our communities.

The conversation then turned to Rob and I learning more about one another, and we quickly realized that not only were we connected through our friend Javier, but we were also connected through our graduate work at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary. It was during this point in the conversation that a truly beautiful thing occurred.

“Tell me about the church you pastor,” I said to him. “It’s a church in New Canaan, CT that my father planted and where I serve as the youth pastor,” he replied. 

“New Canaan? That’s a beautiful part of the country,” I offered.

Rob paused, and then offered, “You seem to know New England pretty well for only being out here two years.”

“Yes, after graduate school I worked at Gordon College for several years and we spent a lot of time travelling throughout New England, knowing we would not likely live on the East coast again.”

“Gordon College – are you serious?” said Rob. “I was a student there from 2005-2009!” 

“Are you kidding? That’s when I was employed there!”

Though there are times in life that cannot be explained by anything other than chance, this was not one of those moments. This was a moment so clearly orchestrated by God, I was left in awe at how, even in tragedy, God is at work in all things.

“What is your last name?” I asked, knowing that from 2003-2005 I worked as Gordon’s admissions counselor for students from Connecticut.

“Knecthle,” he said. And there it was. The gift delivered by God, given to each of us in a time of need.

“I was your admissions counselor, Rob. I came to your high school and talked with you. I spent time on the phone with you. I knew you as a high school student!” We both laughed, and he said, “If it wasn’t for you, I would never have come to Gordon. I didn’t even know it existed until you reached out to me. Thank you.”

Rob caught a flight last night from Connecticut so he can attend Javier’s service today. When he called, he wasn’t sure he was going to come. The timing seemed challenging, the turnaround too quick, the possibility of not being able to see the family, or the fear that Covid limitations would render his trip futile seemed too great. He needed to hear from someone that he should come, that he would be welcome here. 

Javier’s scholarly work centered on the person and work of Dietrich Bonhoeffer. How fitting it is then, that even in his death, two people are experiencing “life together” – the name of Bonhoeffer’s most popular writing, and also the legacy Javier has left to us, his friends. 

So may all we do and say be in pursuit of life together, for it is through all things – even fantasy baseball – that we can get tastes of heaven, which Rob and I experienced yesterday on the phone, and which Javier is now experiencing in its fullness for eternity. 

Yesterday my office phone rang. I answered and heard my colleague’s request: “There’s a pastor from Connecticut on the line. He wants to talk with a campus pastor about Javier’s service tomorrow.”

“Sure, I’d be happy to talk with him. Send him through,” I replied.

I knew Javier had grown up on the East coast, but I wasn’t sure why a pastor from CT would be calling our office.

“Hello, my name is Rob, and I was a good friend of Javier’s when we were younger,” stated the voice on the other line. There were some vocal quivers as he spoke, and I could tell he was on the verge of tears, trying to hold them back as he talked with me.

After making sure Rob was finished with his introduction, I said, “Rob, I am so sorry for your loss. We are heartbroken here at George Fox, and I know there are so many around the world who feel the same.”

Our conversation then turned to all of the ways we had seen Javier live his life with adventure, intentionality, and love. Rob recounted surfing trips, bible studies, and Javier’s academic journey that took him to places like Georgetown and Cambridge in pursuit of his degrees. I recounted how so many students saw his as a “teacher-dad,” someone who could get the most out of them intellectually and also affirm their value and dignity as children of God. It was cathartic for both of us to speak about his impact on us and our communities.

The conversation then turned to Rob and I learning more about one another, and we quickly realized that not only were we connected through our friend Javier, but we were also connected through our graduate work at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary. It was during this point in the conversation that a truly beautiful thing occurred.

“Tell me about the church you pastor,” I said to him. “It’s a church in New Canaan, CT that my father planted and where I serve as the youth pastor,” he replied. 

“New Canaan? That’s a beautiful part of the country,” I offered.

Rob paused, and then offered, “You seem to know New England pretty well for only being out here two years.”

“Yes, after graduate school I worked at Gordon College for several years and we spent a lot of time travelling throughout New England, knowing we would not likely live on the East coast again.”

“Gordon College – are you serious?” said Rob. “I was a student there from 2005-2009!” 

“Are you kidding? That’s when I was employed there!”

Though there are times in life that cannot be explained by anything other than chance, this was not one of those moments. This was a moment so clearly orchestrated by God, I was left in awe at how, even in tragedy, God is at work in all things.

“What is your last name?” I asked, knowing that from 2003-2005 I worked as Gordon’s admissions counselor for students from Connecticut.

“Knecthle,” he said. And there it was. The gift delivered by God, given to each of us in a time of need.

“I was your admissions counselor, Rob. I came to your high school and talked with you. I spent time on the phone with you. I knew you as a high school student!” We both laughed, and he said, “If it wasn’t for you, I would never have come to Gordon. I didn’t even know it existed until you reached out to me. Thank you.”

Rob caught a flight last night from Connecticut so he can attend Javier’s service today. When he called, he wasn’t sure he was going to come. The timing seemed challenging, the turnaround too quick, the possibility of not being able to see the family, or the fear that Covid limitations would render his trip futile seemed too great. He needed to hear from someone that he should come, that he would be welcome here. 

Javier’s scholarly work centered on the person and work of Dietrich Bonhoeffer. How fitting it is then, that even in his death, two people are experiencing “life together” – the name of Bonhoeffer’s most popular writing, and also the legacy Javier has left to us, his friends. 

So may all we do and say be in pursuit of life together, for it is through all things – even fantasy baseball – that we can get tastes of heaven, which Rob and I experienced yesterday on the phone, and which Javier is now experiencing in its fullness for eternity.