I’m being whisked back to 2006 when Minnesota native
Jonathan David Francis was mountain climbing in Idaho, lost his footing and his
life. He was lost for long time as
well. His father, David, wrote a book about
their search for their beloved son called Bringing Jon Home: The Wilderness Search for Jon Francis,
and I am reading it for my Grief and Loss class.
The book is written like a diary from notes collected and
organized. It is a father’s heartfelt
story of the biggest, untimely, unexpected loss in his life. Though it is a recollection of the events, it
is filled with David’s memories, regrets, wishes and desires for his faithful
son. A Stillwater native and active
Episcopalian, Jon was working at a Lutheran church as a youth leader and also
worked at a camp. He had recently
decided to apply to seminary. He loved
God, living in and around nature, youth and his high school sweetheart. He was 24 years old.
His disappearance was only one part of this story. It is also the story of law enforcement and
government workers who were unwilling to try to locate Jon. Because David was running for a seat in the
Minnesota House, the “powers” in Idaho felt manipulated by the significant
support, from churches, friends and government officials around the country. They refused to allow their searchers to go
off safe paths to search when it was still possible Jon was alive. They ended the search after two days. It seems unbelievable that so little effort
would be put forth.
Jesus tells a parable of the lost sheep. One out of one hundred head went missing and the
shepherd left the ninety nine in search of the one. There is also the parable of the lost coin
and the frantic search by the woman.
There is much rejoicing when what has been lost is found. The Francis family was not given the chance
to find their son alive let alone dead under the odd decisions made by law
enforcement. They were told to “Give
your son to the mountain.” This is not
what Jesus taught.
I’m only half way through the book, so I don’t know the
whole story, yet. But I’m reading the
anguished words of a lost father in search of his lost son and it is powerful
and sad.
I met David Francis a few weeks ago. I’m hoping I can reconnect with him after I
read the rest of the book to understand more of his story of his process
through grief. Waiting for months to
find his son’s body, unable to provide proof of death to creditors, holding one
another without tangible proof and hoping this tragedy has some kind of lesson
had to be so very difficult.
As I read about the
support the family received through prayer and physical presence by not only their
faith community in Stillwater but the church and camp in Idaho and the
Episcopal Bishop of Minnesota and beyond, I could sense that God was always in
their midst. When the mountain range
turned from a beautiful place to an ugly place, God was still there. They knew it.
I’m not sure how I would cope under similar circumstances
and I hope I never have to find out.
Dear God, there is so much hurt in this world and yet your
love is felt abundantly through the pain.
There is hope when all seems lost.
It is all because of communal relationship with you. When we are in community, worshiping you with
one another, we find a place of hope and grace that can and often does sustain
us in our time of need. Be with those
this night who are feeling alone and afraid, for those about to travel through
their fear of travelling to find solace from doctors or find comfort in the
arms of loved ones. Be with the lost
ones, lost through physical or mental separation. Protect those who have fallen into human sex
trafficking. Use us to feed and clothe
the hungry and cold. Enfold in your
abundant arms those who are the most vulnerable this night, filling them with
your unending love. Amen.