A Sermon for Jim

1 Peter 5: 10 and 11, page 859
And the God of all grace, who called you to eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast. To God be the power for ever and ever. Amen.
Jimmy Frank Hodges, by his own description grew up in a very, very rich family… who didn’t have any money.
You might say he was a surprise to his middle age parents – the only child of Edna Mae and Benjamin Franklin Hodges, both who had children in previous marriages.
Jimmy Frank, or Jim, was his mother’s treasure, and Edna Mae Hodges was not the treasuring type necessarily. In fact, according to Jim, she was the shoot a shot-gun from the hip type. Even the shoot a shot-gun from the hip killing a dog if it meant protecting her son type.
And she had to learn to shoot, as Jim’s father, Benjamin Franklin Hodges, only had one hand, having lost his left to a circular saw as a boy shoveling saw-dust in a mill.
Jim told stories about this hand, stories, that according to Carol Hodges, Jim’s beautiful wife and friend since the 3rd grade are not exaggerations or made up stories, but are, as they say in Texas, so-tales.
One tale goes that not long after the accident, Jim’s father got a horrible itch in the place his left hand would have been. We non-Texans call these things phantom pains, but back home a wise woman in the general store told Jim’s father that to get the itching to stop he would have to dig up that hand where he buried it, and put it some where safe.
Benjamin Franklin Hodges dug up that hand where he had buried it, to find it covered in ants. He swatted the ants away, brushed it off, and put it in a mason jar of preservatives for safe keeping.
He then took the hand back to that wise woman of the general store who put it up on a shelf for the whole town to see it.
I love this story. Not only because someone I love told it, apparently over and over again, but it hints at a temptation Jim’s father surely fought, but triumphed over, as not only did this young man lose his hand, but he then had to see it over and over again. He was continually reminded of what he lost not only by the stub at the end of his wrist, but by a perfectly preserved left hand. I think I would have been tempted to spend days looking into that Mason jar, thinking of how it appeared as though it could just be attached right back on, but instead it was left to do nothing but sit there on the shelf of the general store.
At the very least it must have been a constant sign, making Benjamin Franklin Hodges one who looked forward to the time our scripture passage alludes to – a day when Christ himself will restore you, make you whole again once the hardship is over.
But there’s no reason to believe Jim ever suffered because of his father’s missing hand. In fact, it sounds as though what he lost made him all the more thankful for what life had given. So no appendage was ever taken from Jim in an accident – though I think everyone who he loved knew that he willingly gave of some part of himself every single day of his life.
He never lost a hand, but to his friends he dedicated himself, gave his time, his thoughts, and his prayers.
He never lost a hand, but to his God he gave his faith, put his trust, so much so that when I asked on his hospital bed not two weeks ago what worries he still had he only told me that he wasn’t sure whether or not Carol quite understood the car maintenance schedule. Thank goodness he has a mechanic son in-law, he said. He never lost a hand, but to his God he put his trust, and he looked forward to the day he would see Jesus face to face and his body would be whole again.
He never lost a hand, but to his family he gave his whole heart—dedicated himself, invested his time, and coordinated his life around them. He never lost a hand to preserve in a jar and put up on a shelf, but Jim Hodges gave his heart to his wife, never stopped thinking of his daughters or the men they married, and always lived with sunshine in his soul and a smile on his face because of his grandchildren.
He never lost a hand, but don’t we look to the space he used to fill and know that today we not only celebrate the life of an important man, but that today we mourn the passing of a man who gave us so much of himself that we will always be reminded of what we have lost.
And when will we be restored?
When will the missing pieces be put back in place?
We have some heavenly promise in our scripture lesson, ensuring us that Jim’s suffering is now over, but what about the suffering that we face in the wake of his death?
There are parts that will just never be the same again, always different, never quite right.
But to spend our days dwelling on what we’ve lost…that just wouldn’t be how Jim would have wanted it. No, Jim, was raised by a father who didn’t spend his time lamenting what he’d lost, he didn’t spend his days staring into a mason jar, wishing for some day before the accident or hoping to jump forward to heavenly restoration, but for whatever reason, was able to rejoice in what he’d been given.
We have lost something precious. Though some have lost more than others, we have all lost something in Jim Hodges.
What he would have us do, is not spend our time looking into a mason jar of loss, thinking only of how we wish it were, but Jim today would urge us to celebrate what we’ve gained by getting to the business of living according to this example.
Cameron Jones, Jim’s grand-daughter Britt’s husband, in letting friends and family know about Jim’s passing in an email ended his message with the words, “More than letting you know what’s going on in our family I hoped to inspire you the way Pappy (Jim) would like you to be – namely, to live life to its fullest.. and then some.”
I tell you that my personal temptation is simply to cry over the loss of the man who believed in me more than I believed in myself on more than one occasion - but focusing on what we’ve lost is simply not what he would have wanted. His example demands that we live, giving of ourselves, our very hearts, to the ones who we love, living life to its fullest… and then some.
The day of suffering has ended for our Jim, as it will for us all. But until that day, that day when restoration comes by the hand of Christ himself, I urge you to live as the one who we mourn lived – giving of yourself, living life to its fullest, and loving as though you were giving away your own heart.