The Bridge: Sneak Peek

Second Baptist Church

INSIDE REFLECTING ON NEPAL LEGACY: HARVEY THOMAS HEARING GOD by Jennifer Dilts OKLAHOMA STORIES: Steve Smith WORSHIP 101

JAN | FEB | 2014

Reflecting on Nepal

Second Baptist Church

TABLE OF CONTENTS Just a thought: Jason Edwards . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Oklahoma Stories: Steve Smith . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Worship 101 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Nepal Reflections . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Hearing God by Jennifer Dilts . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Partner Profile: CBF Heartland . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Meeting New Friends . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Inspired . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Legacy: Harvey Thomas . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Jason Edwards Senior Pastor

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Steve Smith:

Stories of Oklahoma

by Sue Wright

Dr. Paul Stephen Smith, retired chaplain at Liberty Hospital, member of Second Baptist, and an expert on Disaster Preparedness especially in the area of church safety and security, claims a long list of other interests and passions too. In fact, you might conclude perusing the list, he’s a man averse to even a second’s dull moment.

For example, when he isn’t out of town lending his assistance in places like New York following Hurricane Sandy or Oklahoma left devastated in the wake of May 2013 tornadoes, he’s tending our Second flock on Lightburne Street as a crossing guard—Sunday mornings and during MOPS meetings.

You’ll find “Steve” impossible to mistake for someone else once you get to know him. If he isn’t wearing the orange-bright vest that guarantees your safe passage across our busy streets, he’ll be sporting one of his many hats— derbies, Stetsons, straw, even a motorcycle helmet he dons to zip around Liberty on his motorcycle.

In an article to come, Steve will share his story for I AM SECOND, one of our regular features spotlighting the life journeys of folks in our Liberty church. Meanwhile, here’s what Steve has written to remember some of the people he met in Oklahoma while deployed by the American Red Cross as part of their Integrative/Spiritual Care Team four days after the first tornado struck Oklahoma on Sunday, May 19. He was with them for two weeks.

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JAYCI AND TINA I first met Jayci and her mother, Tina, at the Little Axe Multi Agency Resource Center (MARC). Jayci is 5 years old and I had taken her to a play area while her mother went through the labyrinth of tables with different agencies that were there to help her family.

We met again that night staying in the same hotel. When another tornado warning came, I played with Jayci until the all clear was declared.

Later Tina told me about the experience with the tornado that struck their house. They heard the tornado coming and ran across the road to a neighbor’s tornado shelter.

After the tornado had passed, they came out to discover their house was gone, blown away. Nothing was left. They then moved to a hotel for temporary shelter. The next day Tina received an email from one of her high school friends whom she had not seen in about 10–12 years. Her friend’s email said, “This has to be your daughter’s picture.” Sure enough, as an attachment to the email was a picture of Jayci.

Here is what had happened. A woman in Tulsa found the picture in her front yard and put it on her Facebook page. The high school friend saw it and “knew” it was Tina’s daughter. Prior to the tornado the picture had sat in a frame on a table in their living room. It was found, however, 150 miles away, without a frame. The picture had not been torn, folded or defaced in anyway; neither was it wet. Working through the high school friend, the picture was returned.

“This has to be your daughter’s picture.” the email from Tulsa said.

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John & Helen

John and Helen were a couple I met at the Shawnee MARC. This is their story. A few years ago, John took money out of his retirement account to have a storm shelter installed in the front yard. The day of the tornado, when they heard the tornado coming, they ran to their shelter built to accommodate eleven people. They had to hold the door shut as the tornado passed by. When the storm was over, they came out to find their house was gone, only one small thing remaining in the front yard. The item found from a cemetery across the way was a small metal ‘sign’ that funeral directors put down to mark a grave once someone has been buried. The sign they found? It was from Helen’s mother’s grave, whom they had buried a few months earlier. **********

Julie & Janice

When Julie and Janice left Moore, Oklahoma that Monday morning for work, they made sure all of their pets were secured in their kennels. Later, hearing about the tornado on its way, they ventured outside their workplace only to see the top of the tornado roar through Moore, leaving its path of destruction. They wanted to jump into their car and race home but their boss would not allow them to leave. Once it was safe to return to their house, all they found was a concrete slab. They searched everywhere for signs of Mak, Kali, Sunni, Radar, and Philli but found only one of the dogs’ blankets and one of Julie’s military uniforms. Both items were several blocks from the house. Over the next few days they went to all the vets and places receiving lost pets, but none had theirs. Julie and Janice were full of grief. To them, losing their pets felt the same as losing a member of the family. Their animals WERE their family. We spent time talking how they could best memorialize their “pet children.” It was a powerful loss for these women. **********

Beverly

I met Beverly at a rehab hospital in Oklahoma City.

She had been taken there following her hospital stay for injuries sustained during the Moore tornado.

This is her story, and sadly, not a happy one. When Beverly and her husband of 39 years heard the tornado coming, they went to an interior room of their house. They had no basement. Beverly sat down on a stool they used in the shower while her husband sat on something else. Hearing the storm coming they joined hands. Suddenly the storm hit the house and she felt her husband being lifted up, their clasped hands raising in the air. Feeling the house around them coming apart, Beverly heard a small voice

within her say, “It is OK to let go!” Slowly Beverly released her husband’s hands and saw him fly away. His body would be found the next day. A few minutes after the tornado, Beverly hollered at rescuers she could hear outside the house. When they asked her if she was all right, she said yes, but that she was trapped and would need their help getting out. All of her husband’s side of the room was totally gone; her side, collapsed upon her. In a few moments, the lives of this couple married 39 years were changed forever.

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**********

Pastor Bond

At the corner of Fish Market Road and Cool Pond Road stands the Emmanuel Baptist Church. The tornado on Sunday afternoon passed within a quarter mile of it, leaving a field of debris across the way where the funnel passed over Cool Pond. Six days later, I met Pastor Bond, Emmanuel’s minister. This is his story. Members met at the church after the tornado came though that Sunday afternoon.

Once they had righted the steeple that had been blown over, the church of 100–120 people began to talk about ways they could help, deciding to buy $138.00 worth of food and begin to cook.

The next day as people drove by, they offered food to them. Some folks offered money back in return but were told there was no charge. In less than a week, the small church was feeding about 900 people a day. Some of it was food they bought and some was donated. The American Red Cross provided 200–300 of the meals while

Emmanuel continued preparing the rest. In the meantime, Pastor Bond received a call from a food bank offering a refrigerated trailer full of food if the Church could keep the generator running and the food cool. The Pastor asked how much that would cost and was told, $150.00 a day. “Bring the truck,” he said. Then, no sooner had he hung up than the phone rang again. A man who called asked what the church needed and Pastor Bond told him, they needed diesel fuel. The man responded by saying he would give them $800.00 for additional fuel.

The following day, Pastor Bond realized he had forgotten to order the fuel but noticing a group of Mennonite volunteers were about to leave, decided he would ask them if he could buy some of theirs.

Instead of selling him the fuel, they gave him what they had. During the transfer of diesel, another person drove up and said when they ran out he would share some of his. Two week later, they had yet to use the $800 first donated for fuel. I came to call Emmanuel, a Miracle Church.

Emmanuel Baptist Church

The wife of Pastor Bond told me this story. An organization came to Emmanuel with about 6–7 large pans of brisket. These pans, similar to what you would find in a cafeteria, were 3 inches deep and measured 15” x 30.” Each was running over with freshly cooked brisket. The pastor’s wife said, about an hour later, she thought to herself, “We’re going to need some buns for this brisket.” In just a few minutes, a truck pulled up and unloaded several racks of buns and bread, more than enough to serve with the brisket. But there’s more to the story.

Beginning about 3 weeks before the tornado struck, the Church had an opportunity to purchase a commercial ice maker that retailed for $7,000 but was made available to them for a purchase price of only $3,000. The ice maker which under normal circumstances would have seemed much too large for a Church their size, was now, since the storm, pushed to the max to supply enough ice to preserve the food they were cooking and quench the thirst of volunteer groups stopping by. Emmanuel, a small, country church made a huge impact on its community by supplying basic essentials such as food and water. Their small fellowship hall was packed with paper products, water, Gatorade, food to be cooked and staples to be given away. Non-church members worked alongside church members in the kitchen and food distribution area. A woman who accompanied her son from Texas, called some of her friends at home and soon three empty trailers were donated to store food and other items. Indeed, Emmanuel Baptist is a Miracle Church! **********

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Hearing God

by Jennifer Dilts

This past spring, I found out that I was unexpectedly getting a large sum of money. All of the resident physicians at Indiana University during a certain time period were getting FICA refunds, to the tune of 5 figures. When I received my letter of notification about this money, I immediately felt that I should donate it. This wasn’t something that seemed like my own idea, but something I just knew I should do.

The next day, a casual friend invited me to the Liberty Women’s Clinic annual fundraiser. Not sure if you are familiar with this clinic, but they are off of the Liberty square, pro-life, helping young pregnant moms. Jason was working that night and I wasn’t going to go out of my way to get a babysitter for an event that was bound to make me feel uncomfortable. I have been prolife for as long as I can remember. However, I really struggle and take issue with the pro-life movement/tactics. Whether accurate or not, I view many pro-lifers as narrow-minded and judgmental. And yet, I went to the fundraising dinner. My mother-in-law just happened to be in town that night to watch the kids, so the childcare issue was taken care of. I felt like a hypocrite at that dinner, because I feel that Planned Parenthood helps many, many teen girls with contraception and STD treatment, services, etc. I wish that the abortions didn’t happen, but I don’t want to burn the Planned Parenthood clinics, as I assumed that everyone else at that fundraiser did. The guest speaker was a southern minister who embodied everything I dislike about fundraising dinners and conservative Christians.

He kept trying to guilt people into giving more and more money. And yet, in spite of that, I connected with many great people that evening.

I was seated next to people that I didn’t know.

One woman was a high school teacher, good friends with my childhood neighbor. She spoke of abortion conversations that her students had had earlier that day, taking me back to my first school debates about abortion, reminding me of my true pro-life sentiments, and reminding me of what a small world we live in. The other woman I sat next to was my age, but so different. She was as blatantly pro-life, conservative, anti-doctor hippie as they come (yes I know those don’t

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normally go together). She probably doesn’t even vaccinate her kids!!

(Just ask Christy, this is about as bad as it gets in my book.) And yet, I really loved and connected with this woman. I really felt that God was using this evening to challenge all of the stereotypes and judgements that I rely on too often. At that dinner, I also reconnected with my high school cross country coach. I hadn’t seen or talked to this man since high school, and yet he and his wife remembered the names of my parents and brother and sister, and other details that I thought would be long-forgotten. This man embodies unconditional love to me, and I learned so much from him in high school. And at the dinner they showed a short video of a Liberty Women’s Clinic client- a young teen mom, former drug-abuser. She was shown in the video with her boyfriend and her now one-year-old baby. She talked about how she expected the clinic staff to judge her and be pushy, and she found the opposite. They met her where she was and they loved her, and through relationships with the staff, she decided to keep her baby.

As I was driving home from the dinner that evening, I had the radio off, praying. I really felt that God wanted me to donate my FICA refund to this women’s clinic. And yet it seemed kind of crazy, since a week ago I hadn’t even known that the place existed. I told God that I needed some clarification. Then I turned the radio up, and my favorite song was just starting. It was Sidewalk Prophets’ “Live Like That”.

Sometimes I think What will people say of me When I’m only just a memory When I’m home where my soul belongs Was I love When no one else would show up Was I Jesus to the least of us Was my worship more than just a song I want to live like that And give it all I have So that everything I say and do Points to You I have loved those lyrics since I first heard that song, and they confirmed what I knew, that God was telling me to donate the money to the women’s clinic.

But.....there were two months or so between when I went to that dinner and when I actually got the refund check. And, as I’ve heard you say before, I found myself thinking “Maybe God didn’t really say that I should donate the money”. And “Maybe he didn’t really say that I should donate it all to the women’s clinic.” My conflict with pro-life conservatism surfaced again. I wondered how I could donate so much money to a group I didn’t really know much about. Would they spend it wisely? Maybe I should take a tour of the place before deciding whether to donate my money to

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them. (Make sure they are “worthy”.) Maybe I should take my time, volunteer there, get to know the place and what they really do. Gradually, I was attaching strings to my gift. Maybe my husband wouldn’t feel that I should donate the money, and then I would be off of the hook. I wouldn’t have to make what was suddenly seeming like a hard decision. But, Jason told me that the money was mine, and I should do whatever I felt was right with it. So, I wasn’t off of the hook that easily. The check came at the end of April. I was uncertain. I almost didn’t make it to church on April the 28th. I had a sick kid. My in-laws were again in town and at the last minute, I left my sick kid with them and sat in the front row of the balcony. I’m certain that God wanted me to hear your sermon that day. But God spoke SO clearly to me through your sermon that morning.

What I heard was....that God can use any means that God wants to to work for good.

It’s not our job to judge God’s means. I loved how you talked about years ago, attending a church with a female pastor. You talked about how your heart went there before you mind went there. That’s exactly how I was feeling with the women’s clinic. I came away from that service knowing that I didn’t have to resolve my abortion/pro-life questions and issues. I didn’t have to love every pro-lifer and hate every pro-choicer. In fact, I don’t even have to know where I stand on the issue. And I definitely don’t have to resolve the issue in my head now, or ever. God was inviting me to bless this clinic, at this time.

There were good people there loving people who felt unloved, and that was enough.

A few days later I wrote my check and put it in an envelope. I stopped by the clinic and told them I had a donation. They didn’t know if it was $1 or $1 million, but they were so gracious. They gave me a tour and I talked with the workers and director for over an hour. When they learned that I’m a pediatrician, they invited me to teach a newborn baby class to their expectant moms once in a while.

That was several months ago. I have no idea how my money was spent. I don’t really know what God “did” with the money. But, this experience changed me. I felt God more through this experience than I have in a long time. God broke down some of my stereotypes, and challenged my thinking, and revealed some of my narrow-mindedness to me. And, through your words, God helped me to realize that it’s ok to not know, and to not have answers, and to even have conflicts. I can still act when I know that God is inviting me to. If God is working through that clinic, that’s good enough for me.

Meet Jennifer Dilts

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LEGACY: HARVEY THOMAS A Liberty Tribune Column by Sue Wright

When I came to Liberty in 1962, I knew two things about this county seat with nary a stoplight and a bustling town square. First, I knew the Oberkroms had moved here from Independence while our families were attending church together at Mt. Washington Baptist in Fairmount, Missouri. And second, I knew with all my heart, William Jewell College was the prettiest site for higher education I had ever seen and that it would to be my home of choice for the next four years.

Little did I know, both Liberty and Jewell would still mean HOME to me, all these decades later. But why not when everything you need to live out a satisfying life—all the people, all the amenities required to raise a family— are Harvey Thomas here in what has continued to be my hometown of September 22, 1925–April 16, 2013 choice.

Early on, Jewell’s hilly campus and its host town was like a giant playground-in-one for this girl from a suburb of Kansas City-- for someone totally on foot as I was for the first time in my life. I not only walked to where I studied in the classrooms of unforgettable professors like Bruce Thomson, Earl Whaley, Ed Chasteen, Norris Patterson, Murray Hunt, D.O. Moore, Charles Newlon, Myra Unger, Coaches Gourley, Flook, and Nelson, Richard Harriman, Pop LaFrenz, Will Adams, and Wesley Forbis, but I walked to where I bought my groceries, banked, and consumed scrumptious butterscotch sundaes at Beggs’ soda fountain. Between classes, I checked out the clothes at Lucille Davis, window shopped Braun’s and Whiteside Jewelry, clomped the quaint wooden floors of Breipohl Drugs and Boggess Hardware, dawdled the aisles of Mr. Scott’s dime store, and filled my senses full with the sweet bouquets of Fischer’s Flowers.

I was also one of the co-eds back in those “golden days” that teetered down Franklin Street in high heels and gloves to worship at Second Baptist every Sunday. Sure, there were mornings when my girlfriends and I would have preferred sleeping in, but once we were welcomed into the fold by Harvey Thomas, our regular Sunday School teacher, we seldom missed. As I wrote just lately to remember Dr. Thomas, a graduate of Jewell, industrial psychologist, and unapologetic fan of all things Liberty, “His beaming smile and the nimble, invigorating connections he so masterfully linked between scripture and what was happening in our lives—AND his—led us, his avid listeners, to appreciate the God-flame burning bright within him—one he was bent on firing in us.” Through the years—for fifty years—Harvey went on being

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the “enduringly cordial and caring face of my Sunday mornings at Second, embodying for me the very spirit of a Christ living on amongst us, a spirit alive and stepping daily through the streets of Liberty.”

It’s a sad fact, but many of the unique personalities who have made our town the electric spot it is, are gone now, including Harvey Thomas who died in May. Those of us blessed to spend time with any of these remarkable men and women—with Harvey-- feel the lights of Liberty flicker and grow dim each time one passes. In the midst of our loss, we wonder how those lights can dare shine on with any brilliance. And yet somehow they do, and will we trust, for years to come.

The reason why—the third thing I learned about Liberty along the way-- it’s a place with “staying” power—for certain, enough wattage to keep this college girl in town!

Harvey Thomas

Harvey Thomas

Harvey continued his education at William Jewell Harvey was born September 22, 1925, in MarCollege wasingraduated 1947towhere he was born September 22,and 1925, Marshall,inMO, David shall, MO, to David MonroeHarvey and Suewas Elizabeth a member of He the Sigma Nua Fraternity and the Pi Monroe and Sue Elizabeth Thomas. enjoyed wonderful Thomas. He enjoyed a wonderful childhood Kappa Delta Debate Society.

While in college he childhood growing up in Marshall with his seven sisters.

He growing up in Marshall with his seven sisters. met Irene Simon who became his wife excelled in hisand public school education and participated in and best He excelled in his public school education overschool an amazing 65 accepted years of marriage. debate and in music. in high he was into participated in debate and music.

While high Whilefriend Following college graduation Harvey and Irene the Navy V12 officer training program at Missouri Valley College school he was accepted into the Navy V12 officer moved to St. Louis where he attended Washingand later was graduated from the Northwestern University training program at Missouri Valley College and University to pursue a PhD in Psychology, School inton 1945.

He served aboard the Flagship, later was graduated from theMidshipman’s Northwestern Unigraduating in 1953.

While at Washington UniU.S.S. Taconic, as a Tactical Radar and Photography Officer until versity Midshipman’s School in 1945. He served versity, Harvey received an invitation to join the the war suddenly ended and many young men of his generation aboard the Flagship, U.S.S. Taconic, as a Tactical Sigma Xi Society for scientific research. returned home.

Radar and Photography Officer until the war suddenly ended and many young men of his generaHarvey and returned to College William and Jewell Harvey continued his education at Irene William Jewell tion returned home. where at age 23, he became Professor and Chairwas graduated in 1947 where he was a member of the Sigma Nu Fraternity and the Pi Kappa Delta Debate Society. While in college he met Irene Simon who became his wife and best friend over an amazing 65 years of marriage. Following college graduation Harvey and Irene moved to St. Louis where he attended Washington University to pursue a PhD in Psychology, graduating in 1953. While at Washington University, Harvey received invitation to join the Sigma Xi Society for scientific The BRIDGE | Second Baptist Church | Liberty, MOan | 2bcliberty.org 13 research.

showing the love . . .

2bc student ministry story.

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Want to learn more about 2BC’s Student Ministry?

Here’s where you’ll find us Facebook/Second Baptist Student Ministry 2bcliberty.org/student ministry email: ttankersley22bcliberty.org

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t h e

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“... whatever you did for one of the least of these ... you did for me.” — Matthew 25:40

God’s mission, your passion

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The BRIDGE | Second Baptist Church | Liberty, MO | 2bcliberty.org Cooperative Baptist Fellowship www.fellowship.info/give

Church goal: ________________ 1020P002

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The BRIDGE | Second Baptist Church | Liberty, MO | 2bcliberty.org

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Second Baptist Church 300 E. Kansas St. Liberty, MO 64068 816.781.2824

2bcliberty.org