Ryan Hummert Remembered

The following remarks were given on the 21st of July in Ryan Hummert Memorial Park in Maplewood, MO.

Today marks the one year anniversary of the day Firefighter Ryan Hummert lost his life on a call at 5:48 in the morning. Also shot in the incident were police officers Adam Fite and Sgt. Mike Martin.

Tonight we come together as a community to remember, reflect, and to recommit ourselves to being the community, that we have proven to be. You learn a lot about yourself in times of crisis. You will hear several reflections tonight, from folks like Mayor White, Chief Merrel, and the Hummert family

But if you will permit me, I would like to start us by offering four observations. These are observations that come from you, the people that I minister among, shop among, who my kids go to school with, and these are observations born in the crucible of my own heart. I like to think that they might be more than observations, that they might actually be lessons that we have learned along the way.

The first observation is that people really matter. And by that I mean all people, but especially the ones that we love. When someone like Ryan is gunned down in the unexpected fashion as he was, when he was there one minute and gone the next, we really recognize the value of those we love. I know for a time, I looked at those I loved a little differently, wondering if it would be the last time I saw them. Many of you shared similar things with me. Honestly, as time goes on, for those of us not directly affected it is a lesson that can slip from us. But it is a lesson that we must hold on to.

But we can broaden the circle a bit. For after all, it is not only our loved ones who matter but it all those who we share the space of this earth with. Particularly those whose lives give shape to the communities that we live in. We have learned this lesson through kind words and hugs, words and deeds that have been timely and profound. At the same time we have learned that those we don’t know have the power to change our lives drastically.

A second observation is that in the wake of this loss we have observed that our tears make us tender. This can be a hard truth to comprehend, particularly for the rugged Marlboro type man, the kind of man that puts his life on the line daily for his community.

But while it is hard it does not negate the truth that our tears are an important part of our grieving and actually play an important role in the remaking of us an our community. A story I heard wonderfully illustrates this countercultural truth.

There once lived a water carrier in India. He used two large pots for his task. He suspended a pole across his neck and attached a pot at each end of the pole. One of the pots had a big crack in it while the other pot was perfect. The perfect pot always delivered a full portion of water from the stream to the master’s house, while the cracked pot arrived only half full each day.
For two years this water carrier made the same journey. The perfect pot became proud of its accomplishments. The cracked pot was ashamed of its imperfection and miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do. Finally, one day by the stream, the cracked pot spoke to his owner about his bitter failure, “I am ashamed of myself, and I want to apologize that I have only been able to deliver half my water to your house. There is a crack in my side which causes water to leak out. Because of my flaws, you don’t get full value from your efforts.”
Then the water carrier replied, smiling, “As we return to the master’s house, I want you to notice the beautiful flowers along the path.”
On that trip from the stream, the cracked pot looked around.
“Did you notice there are flowers only on your side of the path, but not on the other pot’s side?” the master commented. “That’s because I have always known about your flaw, and I took advantage of it. I planted seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we passed these spots, you watered them. Now for two years I have been able to pick those beautiful flowers to decorate my master’s table. Without you being just the way you are, I would not have this beauty to grace his house.”

As a community we are a little bit like this cracked pot. Our brokenness and our tears have watered the path and caused beauty to grow in places that might have otherwise been desolate. Our tendency is to apologize for this, but if we look closer this brokenness may be the very thing we need to celebrate.

A third observation is that we have been reminded that all of the stories that give shape to our lives are not equally true.

Being in the ministry many of the conversations that I had in the days, weeks and the months following the death of our brother had to do with questions of why this happened.

For many people the problem became a crisis of story. You see many of us work out of the storyline that if you do good things, good things happen to you. If you do bad things, bad things will happen. Our problem is (and that is why many of you are here tonight, and why over 700 people showed up at last years vigil) that Ryan, by all accounts, was a good person … so why did this happen.

I am not going to try to answer this question right now. I raise this simply to note that one of the things that we have learned is that not all the stories that we live by are equally satisfying.

Another way that we have seen this truth is the lack of resolution that we have with respect to the person who perpetrated the events that led to Ryan’s death. Our stories tell us that crimes can be wrapped up in a one hour show, that evidence processed by science will give us the answer, that justice will be done in this lifetime.

Again, this is not always the case. We live must sometimes live with a lack of resolution.

However, and this is my fourth and final observation, there is a story line that we hold to in our culture that has been repeated and holds forth some hope of actually being true. That story is that life actually springs from death.

Some of our earliest tales have this theme. Whether it is Sleeping Beauty or Snow White or one of our more grown up tales, and my personal favorite, The Lord of the Rings, by J.RR. Tolkien.

Some of you will remember either from your own reading of the story or the movie adaptation, the part in the tale where Sam and Frodo having accomplished their quest and destroyed the ring, were caught in what seemed like a sure death experience being engulfed in the explosion of Mt. Doom. But right as they passed out from the gases and flames, they are rescued by the eagles and brought to a place of safety.

When Sam awakes Gandalf, the wizard in the story whom Sam thought to be dead, is leaning over him. Sam says with astonishment, “Gandalf! I thought you were dead. But then I thought I was dead myself. Is everything sad going to come untrue?”

These are beautiful words, and while they don’t take away the pain of what has happened to Ryan, to the Hummert family, to all of us. They do give us hope. Hope that in the end it is not all for nothing.

And I would contend that we have begun to see truth of this story in little ways. We see it in how this community has grown together. Where before relationships were abrupt and businesslike there is now genuine care and concern for other. Even here, in this park that bears his name, we see life spring forth as families come to put their little ones on the swing, and tell their sons and daughters the story of a firefighter who gave his life. And how many of those little ones will grow up with that same determination to impact their world as Ryan did his. Life from death, a true story.

As I said, this is a storyline that gives us hope. The tale is not ended it continues on. To quote Sam again, “What a tale we have been in ... I wish that I could hear it told ... the story of nine fingered Frodo and the ring of doom ... I wish I could hear it and I wonder how it will go on after our part.”

As you listen to these speakers tonight, know that you are part of an ever unfolding story. May we face it with hope.

Hunger!

Not long ago a Kate (not her real name) wandered into church and planted herself near the front of the sanctuary. I have seen Kate before and have helped her out on occasion. You see Kate often finds herself in difficult situations (home, clothes, food, etc…) due primarily to the severe mental illness she struggles with. What struck me this particular morning was not her appearance or her incoherence, but the remarkably profound way in which she took the Lord’s Supper.

As is our custom we use a single loaf and pass it around for congregants to tear their piece from. As you can probably guess, most people remove a nice, respectable, manageable piece of bread, which they then hold until we eat together. Not Kate, not this morning. This morning Kate took, not a piece, but a hunk. Pardon the gender related expression, but Kate took a man-sized portion. Why? I imagine for a very simple reason, because she was hungry.

Which leads to a question. How often do you, do I, come to the table really hungry? Not so much for the bread itself, but for what it points to, to the love of God the Father, the grace of Jesus, all mediated by the Holy Spirit. It seems to me when hunger makes us rip into God, desperate to be filled; this is a good thing. Perhaps this is what Jesus means when he says, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.” Matt 5:6

You know, in my moment of decorum, as I stood officiating the table, I smiled when I saw Kate’s hunk. I smiled because I knew the Spirit had gotten to me.

Final

“The court deems it is in the best interest for Corvat and Corvast Stroud to be placed in the care of the Vander Maas family. This is a permanent action and entitles them to all care and comfort as if they were biological children. Furthermore the court declares that their names shall be Malachi and Isaiah Vander Maas from this time forward.”

As the gavel falls it is done. Final. Irreversible. The boys are ours. They are given new birth certificates. From the perspective of the court, there is no record of their former life.

It is an amazing feeling to go through this process. It is remarkable to be given custody of two beautiful, gifted boys, made in the image of God. It is incredibly humbling. From a human perspective there is of course, some of level of weightiness as now they really are our responsibility. But this day, adoption day, there is only joy.

Joy, not only because in the courtroom are these two wonderful boys made my own, but joy also because my story is played out; a story of adoption, a story of being given a new identity, a story of being made an heir.

It is a story told in Romans 8. Here are vv 14 -17: For all who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God. For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, “Abba! Father!” The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ.

And the best news of all, is that just like with our boys, it is final. There is no going back. These realities have been declared, sealed by the action of the court. So too has the Heavenly Court sealed these actions on my behalf, always and forever, a child of God. Final!

What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? … For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. Rom 8:31,32, 38,39

Thank You Jesus!

Unrecognized Worthiness

I know that for many in our midst, May doesn’t only bring flowers, but also a bit of busyness as school winds down. Soon there will be exams and papers and graduations and parties, all sorts of things to keep us busy.

In the midst of these things of life the cause of Gospel presses on. We see it in the continued coming together of our two churches, as increasingly we are working together, looking toward a launch in Olivette, learning to love a new group of people. We see the onward press of the Gospel through our individual lives, as we come into contact with neighbors, co-workers, family members and others who do not know Christ the way we do. We also see the claims of the Gospel as they are continually pressed more deeply into our own hearts.

It is here I want to camp for just a moment. I have been thinking a lot this week about self-pity. This is a common posture for many of us (I don’t have any friends, my best friend is leaving, my dad/mom/husband/wife is not the person I want them to be, I hate my job, why can’t I look more like ­­­­­­­­________, why don’t I have the gifts of ______, etc….) and a sometimes posture for all of us. It also falls into those categories of sins that we do not often reflect on. However, just because we don’t take time to reflect on it, doesn’t mean it isn’t insidious. It is. Self-pity at its core is an “unrecognized worthiness”. In other words when we indulge in self-pity we exalt ourselves, or some aspect of ourselves, as deserving and we take umbrage when this deserving part of ourselves is not met.

When dissected this way, the problems with self-pity become pretty obvious. I will focus on two. The first is a view of self that is inordinately high. We place our own needs above the needs of others and whine when they are not met. Second, is a serious tension with the Gospel. In Christ are all the riches of glory, and when we indulge in self-pity we betray the fact that our hearts are fixed on something other than Christ to bring us true happiness.

What is the antidote? More Jesus! We need more of him in our lives. We need to imbibe the promises of God more deeply. We need the Spirit’s work to assure us that despite our obvious and not so obvious sins, Jesus has saved us to the uttermost!

Consequently, he is able to save to the uttermost those who draw near to God through him, since he always lives to make intercession for them. Heb. 7:25

What a Savior! Lord, grant us eyes to see.

Mr. Andrew Tries Video ....

Christmas '08

Dear Friends and Family,

As we think back on the year that was, there is one event that stands out in our minds as a first for all of us!! Last April, Andrew and I were shaken awake in the middle of the nights as our windows rattled and we jumped out of bed in shock about what was happening. Obviously, I am talking about the earthquake that shook the Midwest early this spring. Several times later in the morning, we would feel tremors and realize that we were experiencing aftershocks. Thankfully no one was hurt and life went on as normal. I thought this earthquake theme was a good one for our year in review.
As you can see from our family picture, we had an earthshaking event in our lives this year. God was so gracious as to bless us with the addition of two more children-boys this time!! Yes, this year we welcomed Malachi and Isaiah into the Vander Maas family.
Some of you may wonder how all this came about while others of you have walked the road with us. Let me highlight a few of the steps for you. At the beginning of the year, Andrew and I felt the Lord calling us to adopt again. We thought he was calling us to one boy, maybe younger than Zoe. After praying, seeing the need for families for older kids, and talking with our social worker, we opened our file to accept older kid profiles. We looked at several and then our worker said, “How about twins?” Now many of you know that Andrew has joked about wanting twin boys for years (we just didn’t think they were going to be 12!!). Thus, began the journey of pursuing these boys.
We prayed fervently for God to close the door if we were not supposed to walk through it and in each step God opened it wider and wider. So the next step was then to take the step of faith and walk through the door, which we did in August. It was actually the door of McDonalds, which is where we met them for the first time. It is a nerve-wracking and earthshaking feeling to meet your two new 12 year old sons for the first time. All went well and we continued to have visits and then they moved in just in time for them to accompany us on our annual camping trip to MI. This was a wonderful time for them to meet all of our family and vice versa.
I think everyone in our family felt a little unsteady on our feet after this quake, but the earth has stopped shaking. Granted there have been many aftershocks, but nothing that shouldn’t be expected from something this high on the Richter Scale. We are filled with hope for these boys and the potential that largely remains untapped in them. We are also humbled, as we have been each time we have adopted, that God would gift us with the joy and responsibility of raising these two precious boys.
The two questions that are usually asked are: How are the other kids? and Who choose their names? The other kids are doing great!! The girls have adjusted right away as it hasn’t impacted their life quite as much. Josiah has had more asked of him as he now shares a room, and has two brothers 7 months younger than him. As time goes on, we see them acting more and more like normal brothers: throwing the football in the backyard, wrestling in the living room, sharing clothes, and yes, disagreeing as well. We are super proud of Josiah and the openness of his heart to welcome these boys.
One of the first questions, Isaiah asked us was, “Can we change our names?” So we worked together to come up with names that suited all of us. They have both kept their given names as their middle names. They are now Isaiah Corvast and Malachi Corvat. We are happy to keep those names because they are part of the history that they come with. We hope to finalize the adoptions some time in March.
You can read more of our thoughts and experiences on Andrew’s blog at www.blogspot.crossroadsreflections.com and also see updated pictures on our Facebook pages. .

Besides this major event, life has continued on as normal. Same house, same church, same methods of schooling (although the boys are in the public school at this point). Here is a quick list of our life in numbers:
4 kids with glasses
1 in braces
4 kids in soccer (1 South County CYC Championship, not bad for a bunch of rag tag Protestant homeschoolers :),
3 playing basketball
1 new (used) minivan to go along with the Maxivan (Minnie and Max as they are called)
1 Church that continues to grow and shake up the Maplewood area with the Gospel of Jesus
100 pounds of weight that was lifted off Andrew’s shoulder when our new assistant pastor, Mark Ryan started in May. We absolutely love having them here.

So now the year is ending, we just put up our Christmas decorations and soon our kids will be shaking their presents trying to guess what’s inside. And I think about how the first Christmas day was setting the stage for a major event that would shake heaven and earth for the rest of time. In fact, it set the stage for an actual earthquake that would happen when that little baby would one day as a grown man hang on a tree and die for you and me. Each Christmas, it seems to me is an aftershock of that event. Shaking us up to remember why we are truly here and where the course of history is taking us. Our prayer is that this Christmas would be a time of joy and praise and remembering the One who came to shake us up a bit and then holds us close as the pieces of his amazing plan fall together.

Merry Christmas to you all,


Lisa .. for the VM9

An Older Brother

As we embarked on our latest adoption endeavor it became clear that one person in our family had more to lose than the others, or son, Josiah. My wife and I saw this with even greater clarity as we became more and more led to seriously consider adopting an older boy between the ages of 10 -12, the ages or our oldest daughter and son respectively. Specifically, as the oldest child and the only boy complementing four sisters, Josiah had come to have a special relationship with me as Dad, hold a clear place of sibling authority in the home, and in general have a pretty smooth life. Now certainly adopting a boy relatively close in age to Josiah would bring some advantages, but it would bring many changes as well. Now he would have to share; share his room, his dad, his sibling authority (to some degree); overall to share his maleness in our home. This all became exacerbated when the Lord threw us a curve and asked us to consider adopting twin boys seven months younger than Josiah.

But what spoke to me then and seems to be speaking louder everyday, is that in the face of these challenges, which as a maturing young man he recognized and we talked about together, Josiah gave his thumbs up to proceeding, citing a desire to share what he had with someone who had not. To some degree he sacrificed his own sonship in order that those who were not sons could be sons.

Of course, the “who” that we see through this little window is the ultimate older brother, Jesus Christ. Who in the fullness of time was sent forth as the only begotten Son of the Father in order to redeem those under the curse of the law and offer them (us) adoption as sons of the Living God. With God as our Father we not only are led to cry “Abba, Father” but we are invited to call Jesus our older brother. (cf. John 3, Rom 8, Gal 4) This is what makes the bitterness of the older brother in Jesus parable of the Lost Sons (Luke 15) so egregious. As an older brother he should have been the one to extend grace to his wayward younger sibling. But he did not, choosing instead to be bitter and removed. Jesus clearly would have us see in that parable that He (Jesus) is the older brother we need!

So often people say to my wife and I what a great thing it is that we have opened our home to adoption. But now you know, we are not the whole story. In the end we learn a lot by taking a look at the older brother.

For it was fitting that he, for whom and by whom all things exist, in bringing many sons to glory, should make the founder of their salvation perfect through suffering. For he who sanctifies and those who are sanctified all have one source. That is why he is not ashamed to call them brothers, saying, “I will tell of your name to my brothers; in the midst of the congregation I will sing your praise.” Hebrews 2:10-12