Saturday, November 23, 2019
I was eight years old when I first came across Joe. It was at a missionary conference in Shizuoka - an annual conference of the pastors and families of the American Lutheran Church. At the time, all I knew for sure is that he was an English teacher and he was teaching at the Bible School in Shizuoka. He had a part in the devotions for the group. What I remember is that he played the saw. "What a Friend We Have in Jesus" was the song he played if I remember correctly. I figured he was a magician. And since magicians are not known for sharing their secrets, I dismissed any thoughts of learning his "tricks."
It was a year later when we met again. Same group, and once again, Joe shared his gifts with us. This time, I looked for the hidden speakers. Of course we all know that saws are for cutting wood, not for music. It had to be magic. But there were no speakers - only the saw with its spine-tingling sound. Never had music had that kind of powerful effect on me. At the time, we were studying the Holy Spirit in Sunday School. I wondered if this powerful effect had anything to do with the Holy Spirit. After devotions were over, I conjured up all the boldness I had (for I was very timid). I went up to Joe and asked if this is something he could teach me. He said in a matter of fact manner, "Sure... Just come on by and I'll be glad to give you a lesson." He didn't act like a magician. He was very willing to be bothered by this determined little kid.
Mom and dad were too busy to make a special trip with me. But I was determined. They agreed to send me to Shizuoka by myself on the train - over an hour away. From the Shizuoka train station, I found my way to the Bible School. By the time I got there, and knocked on his door, he had only thirty minutes before he had to go to his next English class. He taught me the basic techniques and sent me home.
Apparently dad had spent too much money on his saws. They wouldn't play, no matter how steadfastly I tried. But I didn't want to give up. The second time, my mother went with me, saw in hand, to find out what I was doing wrong. Much to my relief (or was it dismay?) Joe couldn't make it work either. I borrowed a saw from another missionary - one that worked, and after the hours of effort with dad's saw, the sounds came easily - almost naturally. Thanks to Joe - and the Holy Spirit - I was on my way to discovering a new musical gift in my life. At the time, I remember thinking, "If I could play half as well as Joe, I would be very happy."
Today, I carry the saw with me to almost every nursing home worship service. I am able to share the gift with churches and groups all over. Indeed, being a "sawyer" is a large part of my identity today. The gift Joe gave me has become a gift that has kept on giving. It has become an integral part of the work I do, both as a pastor of and as a missionary sent out by the members of Hawk Creek and Rock Valle. How can I say thanks?
My heart is heavy from the news of Joe's death. To him, I owe so much. From his obituary, I recognize that he was gifted in many other areas, and no doubt has shared the Spirit of God in his life in a large variety of ways. My prayers are with you as you plan for the farewell service. It will be a time of celebrating our great hope we have in Christ as well as a time to say thanks to this gifted child of God. But for now, let it be said of Joe, "My Life Goes on in Endless Song... How Can I Keep from Singing?" To God alone be the glory.
Prayerfully and thankfully yours,
Pastor Dan Bowman
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