It
was 8:25 on Saturday morning. I was startled by a “ping” on my phone indicating
that I had received an incoming message from someone on Facebook. The circular
image on the upper right hand corner of my screen let me know that the incoming
message was from a woman who had been a confirmation student in the first
parish I served as a pastor, 25 years ago. Though we have stayed in touch over
the years, our contact has been sporadic and brief. When I tapped her image to
open the message, I found these words, “they found Jacob.”
I knew instantly what she meant: Jacob Wetterling had been found.
In the fall of 1989, 18
months before I was called to serve as a pastor in Brooten, Minnesota, Jacob,
an 11 year-old boy was kidnapped at gunpoint on a rural Minnesota road while
riding his bike home with his brother and a friend. He disappeared without a
trace. The community in which Jacob lived was 50 miles away from my first call.
The kids from my parish had been in St. Joseph, Jacob’s hometown, for a band
competition on the day that Jacob was kidnapped. It could have been any one of
them. It could have been any one of thousands of children for whom the open
country was a place of joy, freedom, unrestrained play, and safety.
But all that changed
when Jacob disappeared. An innocence was lost. A sense of dis-ease caused
parents, and kids alike, to rethink the freedom with which children lived and
explored - especially in the country. During the time that I served in Brooten,
Jacob’s disappearance - and an enduring hope for his return - was a regular
topic of conversation.
That
was true for communities all over Minnesota. Jacob’s kidnapping sent shock
waves through an entire state, and thousands upon thousands of people, year
after year kept hoping and praying that somehow he would be found and safely
returned to his family.
On
Saturday the world learned that such was not to be. Jacob’s body was found
buried in a pasture about 25 miles away from where he was taken, 25 miles away
from that first place I served as a pastor, 25 miles away from where those
kids-now-adults talked in confirmation class about the way that Jacob’s
kidnapping had changed their lives.
We
all have stories in our lives that mark us, shape us, change us, stories
written with on indelible ink on the fabric of who we are. The kidnapping of
Jacob Wetterling is one such story for me. I remember it like it was yesterday.
I remember the fear still present in that first community I served as they
wondered about the safety and the security of their own children. I remember
thinking with thousands upon thousands of others that somebody knows something,
and all it would take would be one person to speak up and speak out.
But
amid all of the disbelief, fear, and other complicated emotions that surrounded
the hearts of so many with Jacob’s kidnapping, there is something else I
remember as well: Jacob’s mother, Patty Wetterling.
Almost immediately after
Jacob was kidnapped, Patty became the face of an enduring hope. Patty and the
rest of her family urged people in Minnesota everywhere to turn their porch
lights on so that Jacob - and any other missing children - would be able to
find their way home. Patty chose hope over despair, hope over bitterness, light
over darkness.
People
responded by the thousands. Porch lights went on everywhere. People rolled up
their sleeves and not only continued to search for Jacob but began to work to
both enact and change laws for the protection of children. Because of Patty’s
work and those who joined her, sex offender registries are now common realities
in communities everywhere. Cases of missing children are treated completely
differently by law enforcement than they were before Jacob. Parents of missing
children have resources that they never before had, and because of Patty’s
tireless work and those who picked up Jacob’s cause, most missing children are
returned safely home.
Out
of the Wetterling’s darkest hours, light has shined brightly for countless
others.
Hope over despair. Hope
over bitterness. Light over darkness.
In the Christian faith
we declare with conviction and with certainty that through Jesus, the light
shines in the darkness. Because of Jesus, the darkness has not, cannot, and
will not overcome the light.
Whatever darkness we
face, whatever darkness you face, the light of Jesus will shine into that
darkness and transform it with God’s enduring grace, God’s enduring love.
Since Jacob’s body was
found on the weekend, thousands upon thousands have once again joined together.
Porch lights have been turned on in his memory and in solidarity with his
family. In the freshly raw experience of grief, light shines in the darkness.
#lightsonforjacob
My own reflections upon
Jacob Wetterling and his family have stirred in me anew a renewed passion to
seek ways to be the light in someone else’s darkness, a renewed passion to
bring hope where there is despair, a renewed passion to choose hope over
bitterness.
If we all chose to do
that, what difference might it make? How might our corner of the world become a
more humane place? How might individual lives become indelibly marked not by
sorrow, but by love and light?
Hope over despair. Hope
over bitterness. Light over darkness. #lightsonforjacob
Won’t you join me?
Many Blessings,
+Pr. Char
Thank you, Pastor Char, for reminding us that hope is stronger than fear - Love is stronger than hate.
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