Jack T Vaughn: Pastor and Friend

The letter was postmarked Pittsburg, Kansas, and the return address was that of the daughter of a friend who lived there. I knew what was inside even before I opened it. "It is with sadness that I write," Vicki began. I thought of all of the letters like that I wrote a decade or so ago to the people in my mother's address book and on her Christmas card list--the old friends she still communicated with once a year or so, for auld lang syne as it were.

The Rev. Jack T Vaughn is the minister who performed our marriage in August of 1968. He was the campus minister for Disciples at the college where Norm and I both taught. Funny and practical, Jack impressed upon us during our pre-wedding counseling that he didn't want any do-overs. Once he married us, we were married for good, he said. Later Jack held several posts with the National Council of Christians and Jews, in Wichita and Atlanta and back in Wichita again. He was a chaplain for the Civil Air Patrol for 50 years. When a tornado damaged Wichita in the 1990s, Jack coordinated the ecumenical task force that brought aid to the victims. Jack took his faith out into the street, sidewalk, and meeting place every day. Norm and I remained "Christmas Letter Friends" with Jack and his wife Mary for almost 40 years. A couple of times we had lunch with them when traveling through Wichita or attending a church convention. We were fortunate to heed our intuition and pay them a visit in Pittsburg after Thanksgiving in 2004, a few months before Mary passed away. When we planned our 40th anniversary last summer, we contacted Jack to let him know we were thinking about him, and that we had managed to stay married at least that long. He wasn't able to make the trip to St. Louis for the party; he was nearly 84 at the time. But he challenged us to make it another 40. Vicki said Jack had died on February 15 of this year, after suffering a fall and developing pneumonia. We had received his Christmas letter and in hindsight I realize I never sent him a response or one of ours.

Jack's devotion to his family, his unwavering commitment to interfaith cooperation and service in God's name, his humor and his deep-down trust were important anchors for us when we were young and trying to develop our own faith, both in God and in each other. Jack, we hope we made you proud. The light is a little dimmer without you.

The photo with this post is of a plaque I encountered on a labyrinth walk at Mercy Center during our quilting retreat there in February. I went on the walk alone, contemplating some uncertainty about my health and some concerns about what at this point in my life I should be doing. The revelation that has stayed with me is the inscription on this plaque.

My strength
is trust;
I trust
that God
is in me.
I trust
that my work
is holy.
Out of this trust
I live.

I'm sure that Jack trusted the strength of God and from the many stories shared by his family and his friends, his work was surely holy. Rest in peace, dear mentor and friend, and thank you.