johnmarkharris.net

Beth, Reagan, and Myself came to FB Maryville on March 8, 2009. This was the tragic day that Pastor Fred Winters was shot and killed while he preached the gospel during the 8:15AM service.

It was a scary experience, but one through which God spoke to us and confirmed to us that this is where he had called us.

Church Executive (www.ChurchExecutive.com) was kind enough to ask me to write about my experience. It came out in print in the August 2010 edition, and you can read the article Online as well.

Hopefully it will make you think… Life is short, serve the Lord every minute, you never know when your last will come.

Tragedy and a pastor’s death shock a congregation in the Illinois farmlands.
By John Harris (Church Executive Magazine, Aug. 1, 2010)

Pastor Fred Winters was shot by an intruder into the services nearly 18 months ago at First Baptist Church in Maryville, IL. The shooter was subdued and later judged mentally unstable.

This account is from John Mark Harris, who was being voted on that same Sunday by the congregation to become the adult pastor. It is a riveting account that reminds churches everywhere that they are not immune anymore from violence in the sanctuary. If you have thoughts you want to share with Harris, you can do so at john@johnmarkharris.net. There is a “Pastor Fred” page with much information on the congregation’s website, www.fbmaryville.org.

The shooter, Terry Sedlacek, had no apparent connection to the church or to Fred Winters, news sources said at the time. Harris says that Sedlacek tried to turn the .45-caliber Glock handgun on himself, but it jammed after the fourth shot; he had more than 30 rounds with him. He then pulled a knife and tried to stab himself in the neck, but church members stopped him. Two men, the ones who subdued him, were injured by the knife but recovered. Harris’ account:

I had worked in pastoral ministry for a while and in several different churches; it was more than 14 years ago that I became a minister of the Gospel. In that time I experienced a wide variety of circumstances, both opportunities and setbacks, some scary and others so shockingly unpredictable they seem more like a bizarre kind of dream rather than reality.

All of these pale in comparison to when my wife, daughter and I came to Maryville, IL in view of a call on March 8, 2009. Plans were destroyed, our hopes would be left unfulfilled, the life of a faithful man of God was cut short as a congregation was tested, and we began a journey of blessing on which God would show himself to be greater than any circumstance.

In September of 2008 life was going pretty well. My wife and I were expecting our first child, I was on staff as an associate pastor at a great church, I had graduated from seminary for the second time a few months before, and God just seemed to be blessing us. That’s when I first came in contact with Fred Winters. He had received my name through a friend and he wanted to know if I might be interested in a position that was open at his church.

I was not in the market for a new job, especially not one at a church built in the middle of a corn field, but over the course of several conversations I began to realize that Fred was a uniquely gifted pastor who I wanted to work with. He was a chess player — both literally and figuratively — who thought several moves ahead, and had a talent for developing a staff team as well as leading the flock.

Heart for evangelism

He was a young leader who had taken this small church of 30 people and guided them to grow into a congregation of more than 1,200 in attendance every week. With a heart for evangelism and a passion for God’s word, I knew that Fred and I would get along well.

Through a series of long conversations with Pastor Fred, other pastoral staff, and various leaders in the church, and after several months of prayer, intense contemplation, and seeking advice of those that I trust, my wife and I decided that we were willing to go if we should receive that call. Every trip up to Illinois from Texas was an absolutely positive experience and we were extremely excited about the possibilities of starting a new adventure. This was an opportunity that God had brought to us and we were going to walk through that open door.

The original plan was for me to travel by myself, but my wife wanted to show her support and excitement for this occasion as well, so my wife and I, along with our not yet three-month-old baby girl, flew in to St. Louis early in the morning on March 8, 2009. All of the work was done on the front-end and the church was prepared to cast its vote to bring me on staff. Everyone was thrilled and happy that this day was finally here.

We arrived at the church just as the 8:15 a.m. service was beginning. The plan was to go into the sanctuary and sit at the front so that we could be presented to the church in each of the services. However, we had an infant with us who needed to eat, so my wife took our daughter into the nursing room next to the auditorium where the worship service was taking place. The children’s pastor and I took this opportunity to go around and greet the adult Sunday School classes that I would have responsibility for. Then it was time to go in to the service, so we went on our way to gather my family.

Gunshots were heard

On our way to the nursery, through the glass windows at the back of the sanctuary, I could see Pastor Fred preaching. That picture plays in slow motion in my mind to this day: He was animated and smiling as he spoke to his people, and I could not have been more energized to become a part of a church like this. Halfway between the main sanctuary doors and the entrance to the nursery we heard something muffled that sounded more like the kind of noises most church A/C units make than what the were — gunshots.

We stood stunned for a brief moment as people began to move out of the worship service. The children’s pastor and I began to move towards the sanctuary when someone came out and told him, “He’s been shot, someone’s shot Fred.” We looked at each other and he said, “Go to your family,” and I replied “Don’t worry about me, go.” We turned our separate ways and I walked, not so fast as to run or add to the mounting panic, but quickly, to my wife in the nursing room.

Along the way I was taking in other people’s reactions as they heard the news, more than once I heard the phrase, “Is this real?” My mind was racing and my heart was pumping as scenarios were playing out in my head: “Could the bullets have hit my wife through the wall?,” “What would I do if the gunman came towards my family?,” and, “Am I ready for that?”

I reached the door and went into the room; my wife greeted me with a smile and said “we’re all done, ready to go in.” Her usual bright face and glowing smile quickly dimmed as she looked at me. I waited for her to say it, because I knew she would, “What’s wrong?” “The pastor’s been shot, I replied, “just stay in here, I’ll come back for you.”

Shot through the heart

It was all over quickly. There were no security staff on campus (we didn’t have any), but several church members subdued the assailant after he had fired four shots, one of which went right through Pastor Fred’s heart. Security was an issue that the church had recognized as a need to be addressed, but it never made its way to the top of the list; there was always too much going on. Since then we’ve established security policies and personnel second to none, but the reality is, there simply isn’t anything reasonable a church can do that would stop something like this from happening.
We should have been scared, and I suppose an event like this would discourage some from accepting the position, but both my wife and I felt as though the church needed us now more than ever. The next Sunday night the church voted almost unanimously to bring me on staff.

We must realize that there are no safe places. If this could happen at a church built in the middle of corn fields located in a quiet village of only 7,000 people, it can happen anywhere. We learned to balance the concerns of security with the power of prayer and an absolute reliance on sovereignty of God.

Churches need to be diligent to do all they can to protect their people, but not at the expense of the Gospel. The fear can be paralyzing. I still remember the first time I stood behind the pulpit of the church to preach after Pastor Fred was shot. I was scared for about 15 seconds, but I had a job to do, I was called to preach God’s word. Churches need to develop teams of security and medical personnel who are well trained and know how to respond in bad situations. By doing this, the pastoral staff is free to focus on what is really important, the ministry of the gospel.

Plans for growth

Pastor Fred envisioned a church that continued to grow. In fact, the Thursday before the shooting the staff put down on paper a seven-year plan of development relating to people and facilities. It had been talked about before, but never recorded to this degree of detail. Even though he is gone, we knew exactly what to do, and we’ve had to move-up the plan.

We baptized more than 100 people in 2009 and are on pace to exceed that this year. We continue to have more attending our services and we increased our operating budget by 10 percent from 2009 to 2010. Our giving receipts exceed our budget almost every week and we have begun a $3 million building expansion to handle the growth that God continues to provide.

It is very easy to allow our circumstances to dictate our actions, but we cannot permit events in our lives to distract us from the goal of reaching the world with the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Security is an issue that must be dealt with and covered in every church to the best of your ability, however, it should not be a distraction for the staff and lay-leaders involved in the ministry of the church week-in and week-out. It is all a part of planning.

As a leader I have learned that planning is critical, vision is essential, and we follow in the footsteps of Jesus when we realize that true leadership can outlive the leader.

One of the more notable of Jesus’ teaching style was that he taught in parables.

They are really beautiful word pictures that stick with us. We all know about the sower who throws out seeds, the shepherd who leaves the 99 to search for the one wayward sheep, and for sure the son who returns after blowing his inheritance.

This is the way Jesus taught, along the way, as life happened, but with intentionality. So we can echo the disciples’ question in Matt 13:10 “why do you speak to them in parables?”

The parable sticks with us and teaches those who want to listen, but Jesus doesn’t go out of his way to explain things to those who have closed their hearts to the truth.

It’s our job, as the church, to communicate the truth of God’s word, but some people just are not willing to hear. It’s not our fault, the door is locked from the inside.

The gospel is life, but not everyone is willing to receive it – it’s simply our job to share it, along the way, throughout life.

May we do this with creativity and intentionality to help the message stick with people for the long haul.

Don’t worry, there’s a happy ending to this one, however, I’ve never been that scared.

I can remember the day when my parents told me my mom had cancer, and when the cancer came back and she had to go through more surgeries. That’s probably the biggest one (one of those days) in terms of the most scared I’ve been. It might be a tie for the time when our niece had to have surgery on her brain when she was just a baby, that was pretty nerve wracking.

Sure, we’ve had other struggles, it was sad when our first dog died, it was scary when our second dog was paralyzed, but come on, these are dogs, this is a human being, my mom no less.

When Beth had Reagan there was a certain degree of concern, more like thought for the unknown, but everything went as planned and Beth had a fantastic doctor (thanks Dr. Wai).

Well, today was the scariest day of my life.

My parents were going to be coming into town for a visit, so I came home at lunch to mow the lawn really quick and then head back to the office (as quickly as one can mow, shower, and grab a sandwich).

As soon as I was done with the yard, I came in and Reagan and Beth were in the kitchen. I plopped a chunk of cantaloup in front of Reagan (her current favorite) and I thought it was strange she didn’t grab for it right away (Beth was cutting them up on the counter behind Reagan).

I started washing my hands and I heard Beth say “Reagan, REAGAN… John!??”

I looked at her and realized she was not breathing, my first thought was “oh no, she’s choking on the fruit.” see, I grabbed a chunk that Beth was about to cut into smaller pieces, and I even said “Oh, she’ll be fine…”

I looked at her and her eyes were rolled back in her head (she’s 19 months by the way), and she was shaking, I could immediately tell she was having a seizure (this is a new one for us, never happened before). I have no idea what causes seizures, but I still had the “stuck fruit” idea in my head.

I pulled her out of her high chair and I did the heimlich maneuver on her, nothing came out. I placed her forward with her head in my hand and I whacked on her back a few times, then turned her over on her back and pushed on her stomach a few times, still nothing.

Finally, I stuck my finger in her mouth and found nothing, she was not choking on anything, but her esophagus was absolutely closed tight. She was blue to purple in the lips and nose and she was not breathing, though she did still have a pulse.

Some time during this, somewhere around while I was pulling Reagan quickly out of the high chair, I called out to Beth “call 911!!!!!”

I knew that she was not getting air, and as far as I could tell there was nothing blocking her airway. I had the thought that something might have been stuck lower down in her throat, but I also knew it was closed up and she was not getting the oxygen she needed.

While I was holding her in my arms, I pinched her nose and blew (hard) into her mouth until I could feel the air open her windpipe and I could see/hear her lungs fill with air. In-out, in-out… 3 – 4 times. She was still not yet breathing on her own.

This went on for a little while (it had to be a short time, but I honestly have no idea how long).

Eventually, (maybe 90 seconds before the start of this thing) she started to gurgle and she was breathing (sorta). I could hear the air going in and out (kinda).

Reagan was limp, 100% limp, but her eyes were no longer in the back of her head. She started to look around (without moving her head). Her face didn’t have much of an expression, just kind of scared and confused in her eyes (I know we might, but I really don’t want to see her eyes like that again). Color started to come back to her, so I laid her down on the carpet (somehow I went into the living room). She could not move her arms or legs, but could move her head a little, she was string to sit-up. I was able to calm her down by talking to her.

Beth was on the phone giving the play-by-play to the 911 operator, and I could hear “you are sending an ambulance, right? hurry hurry, she’s not breathing…” I think the operator was telling Beth things to tell me to do, but in my brain a switch went off “I know what to do, tell the lady to shut up and get that ambulance here…” (I didn’t say that, that’s just where my head was at)

I tend to get direct in a situation like this (I guess). See, about a month ago I took Tommy Ishmael’s “First Responder” training up at church. I learned all about what to do in a crisis like this, clearing an obstructed airway, CPR, how to use an AED machine, etc. It’s one of those things you do and think “when am I ever going to use this…?” I had been a lifeguard when I was younger, so I had taken CPR before, but Tommy’s class came at just the right time. Some things had changed, and he does a wonderful job, I’d recommend you take it, please.

Anyway, she was still laboring with her breathing, and I was not confident she was getting enough air (still very unresponsive) so I gave her a couple deep puffs of air into her lungs.

At this point she started to squeeze my finger, then started moving her arms, and eventually moving her legs. She was breathing, not really well, but breathing, on her own. My thought was “I’m not waiting on this ambulance, let’s get in the truck”

So, while we were in the garage, the ambulance came.

I rushed her to them and they took her immediately, they asked some questions and got to work. They sat her up and she was making more noises (she was only producing a low mown up to this point, unlike our very vocal little girl).

Then after all their questions were answered, she started passing out again, and that’s when they said “one of you can ride up front” – “Beth, get up front” and I shut the door, they took off…

I was back in the house, change my shirt, put on shoes, and “the keys, THE KEYS, WHERE ARE MY STINKING KEYS!!!!”

After I got everything together, I went tearing after them in the truck – I got there quick. That’s also when I called several people to pray – I only used my cell phone between construction zones 😉

I called Beth and she said “We’re here, she’s been crying the whole way” I could hear Reagan balling in the background… beautiful music.

I ran in and she was already in a room and had stuff connected to her “how did they do all this so fast? They did this so well, are we really at Anderson?” (Maryville folks will get that one).

So, she would turn to me when I said “will you give me a kiss” and she would point at things, no verbal responses yet, but she was screaming her head off this whole time too.

Eventually, she would say things, at least the things she can say “ma ma, da da, Abby (from Sesame St.), that made me feel better.

They took blood, took a chest X-ray, and a few other things, but she was getting back to normal (as normal as a 19 month old is on a hospital bed with tubes up her nose and wires attached to her).

4 hours later we were leaving the hospital.

Reagan had a high fever that the doctor thinks was brought on by a mild case of bronchitis (she never even coughed). We checked her and she had 102° fever, but that may have been on the way down.

The doctor thinks she had a febrile seizure (see here & here). After a high fever breaks, something in the not yet fully formed brain isn’t protected and can cause a seizure. This is, by the way, no fun. Apparently, 1 out of 25 kids will have one, and then about 33% of those who have one will have a few more before they grow out of it (usually kids stop having them from 3 – 5 years old). Even though they usually cause no harm (unless a child falls or chokes on food or something), and are not all that uncommon, it was/is still very scary to us.

He gave her a strong IV anti-biotic as well as a prescription for an oral antibiotic to take over the next 10 days for the bronchitis. She should be okay, but if her fever spikes again, this could happen again 🙁

We don’t think it’s any kind of continuing seizures, just a result of this fever. We’re sure praying that way, and we could definitely feel that many of you were praying for little Reagan. And thank you so much for those of you who stopped by in the ER, we have a great church family.

Pastor Tim came first, and he went to go pick up my parents from the airport. The message I left for my dad on his cell phone about 30 min. before they got on the plane was “Reagan had a seizure and is in the ambulance with Beth, I’m following in the truck…” I’m sure that makes for a stressful flight!

After Tim, Gwen (his wife) came, then Pastor Mark and Jayna (his wife), then Pastor Jack, Keith Baker, and Pastor Rich came by too. It was a great comfort to know people care (even though, I hope people at church know folks care who don’t come by as well).

By this time my parents were there, they haven’t seen me since Thanksgiving, what a great reception!

Anyway, we got to go home around 5:15PM, we had been there since about 1:15PM. You would not have known anything was wrong with our little dynamo, she was her usual self, and the grandparents loved every min. of it.

So, dad and I didn’t get to go to the Cardinals game (BTW, St. Louis beat the Dodgers 8-4 & Texas beat the Red Sox 8-4: great day for baseball!), and Beth and mom missed “girlfriend night” at the church – bummer. But, we’re just glad Reagan is okay.

Those were the scariest few moments in my life. I know we might have to go through that again, or something like it, or maybe something worse, but for now, I’m glad that one is over!

So, thank you all so much for praying. Please keep praying that her fever will not come back, that she will get better from the bronchitis and that this is all behind us.

I believe in the power of prayer and I am so thankful for friends, family, and a great church family who are there when you need them.

If you don’t have a church that you call home, get one, and then you make sure you make it a good one.

Blessings!!!!!!!!!

Now that we know what we have—Jesus, this great High Priest with ready access to God—let’s not let it slip through our fingers. We don’t have a priest who is out of touch with our reality. He’s been through weakness and testing, experienced it all—all but the sin. So let’s walk right up to him and get what he is so ready to give. Take the mercy, accept the help.

-Heb 4:14-16 (Message)

Every organization has someone at the top, even if you’re governed by a “board” there is a chairman of the board. Even if not by title, there is someone who is the “Alpha Dog” who, either by force or simply by charisma, leads people to do things.

It’s important not to misuse that position, and it’s a huge mistake to try to use that kind of influence when you don’t have it.

I was driving down the road yesterday and a Toyota Prius in the lane next to me turned on their blinker to come over. Usually, I would not even give it a second thought. I drive a 2004 Ford F-150 4-door 4×4 truck. A Prius would be something akin to a speed bump.

What was different about yesterday? Well, I also drive a motorcycle (2002 Triumph Bonneville America). Yesterday I was driving my motorcycle. Had the Prius come one over, and I not yielded, the speed-bump role would have been reversed.

Jesus called them together and said, “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them. Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be your slave— just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

-Matt 20:25-28

The real sign of a leader is his/her ability to serve. Don’t seek to be the “Alpha Dog” by force, but by love. We should not think that we are greater than we are. Don’t go around with the midset of an F-150 when in reality you’re a motorcycle.

…Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought…

-Rom 12:3

In stead, we should actually think of other people as better than ourselves. I know, that sounds wrong. We prize so called “self-esteem” in our culture. We teach people that they are “good enough, smart enough, and doggoneit people like you,” then we’re surprised when they grow up to be self-centered jerks.

None of us is good, not a single one of us. We each should take the position that we are willing to treat everyone around us with respect and serve them. The Christian life has nothing to do with what those around you deserve, it has everything to do with what YOU disprove. Regardless of what the people in your immediate sphere have earned, you’ve earned death yet have been offered the freedom of Christ. Out of sheer gratitude you should serve those around you, that’s what Jesus did, should you assume a position higher than the one he assumed on this earth?

Remember that we all have influence, use it wisely, use it like Jesus and for him.

Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, 4 not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.

-Phil 2:3-4