As news spread that our great friend & mentor, Phil Thompson, passed away many of you have posted memories and reflections about his skill with a horn as well as his heart for teaching and encouraging the next generation of musicians.
I want to tell you about the Phil you might not have known and how his story intersects with mine. I was called to the pastorate of Lake Wylie Baptist Church in May of 2016. The church campus was located a few miles from Phil and Diane’s home on Lake Wylie and in August of the same year, they walked into one of our Sunday morning worship services.
I try my best to ask guests out to coffee to get to know them better and answer any questions they have about our church, the Bible, or Jesus. I had no idea that when I invited Phil out to coffee I was beginning a friendship that would shape me in lasting and profound ways.
Phil and I met at a coffee shop just up the road from the church. I learned that he had been a long-tenured woodwind prof at Winthrop University and that in his retirement he enjoyed giving lessons in his home and doing contract work for the Blumenthal (our local performing arts center).
Then he said something I’ll never forget. “Jonathan…” He always used my first name multiple times in a conversation; a habit I’m sure many of you have noticed. “Jonathan, I have to tell you that I grew up in church, and I consider myself a spiritual person, but honestly, I’m biblically illiterate.” He went on to tell me that he knew he had faith in God, but that he couldn’t articulate the content of that faith. As a 29-year-old freshly minted pastor I was impressed by his humility and forthrightness. In that moment of honesty, I learned something about Phil: he was teachable. He was a student. Though he was many decades older than me, I know that I could have a shaping influence on his spiritual life. I asked if he would be willing to meet regularly for conversation. He could ask me any question he wanted about the Bible, about theology, ethics, philosophy, whatever, and I would do my best to give answers. Phil and Diane began attending our church regularly, and in short order, joined our membership.
As 2016 was winding down, I asked Phil if he would be interested in joining a theological reading group I was putting together with several men in my church. The plan was to meet on Tuesday mornings at 6:30 AM having read whatever books I assigned to the group and ready to discuss. All of a sudden, Phil was back in school.
(Phil, a younger me, John Weavil, & David Grose)
We began 2017 by reading a book on Biblical interpretation, tackling questions of the historical reliability of the Bible, textual transmission, understanding Biblical genre, and tools for interpretation. Then we moved to a book that applied worldview analysis to various religions and philosophical movements. Phil’s appetite only grew with each new book.
While I assigned many academic books, I also wanted Phil to grow in spiritual experience. Christianity is more than theology. It’s a vital union with the risen Christ grasped by faith. The Apostle Paul puts it this way:
“I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” (Galatians 2:20)
I gave Phil a book called The Valley of Vision early in 2017. It’s a collection of Puritan prayers. As he began working his way through it, he sent me the following in an email on 5/3/2017:
“Lift up the gates of my soul…
Then, write thy own words upon my heart….
So shall all glory be to thee in my reading of thy Word.”
Amen!
As I have mentioned in disciple group, I’m finally learning how to pray. I think, as a child, that I prayed for the things that I thought I wanted. As I got older, I prayed for what I thought I needed. As a parent and grandparent, I’ve prayed not for myself but for those around me and their needs. Now, after these last several months, I’m open, hearing, and allowing the word of our Lord Jesus Christ fully upon my heart. I pray for myself now: I pray each day for the strength to continually put His message first, above all else. Then, what better way may I pray and act for those around me, yes?
Thank you, my dear friend Jonathan, for being such a meaningful messenger in my life.
Phil
Phil would become a deacon in our church, and then chairman of our deacon board. His and Diane’s home became a place of rest for me. On days of stress or anxiety, I often slipped away from the church office just to sit with them by the lake.
Though he had shared the stage with the biggest names in the business, Phil began learning that the stage of our “little church on the hill,” as he called it, maybe the most important stage he ever “performed” on precisely because it wasn’t a performance. He was worshipping and leading others in the musical worship of the Triune God.
A few years ago Phil asked me out to breakfast. We ordered our food and were having a good conversation but something was off. He didn’t seem himself. Finally, he broke down in tears (which was never hard for him to do), and said, “We’re moving to Tennessee.” Our friendship was so deep, so rich, that he dreaded telling me, but he was convinced the Lord was leading him away from Charlotte and our church.
Why? Because Kaya and Eli, his grandchildren who he often brought to church were moving and he wanted to continue being a spiritual influence in their life. “I have to go,” he wept, “I have to make sure they find a gospel-preaching church and root their lives in Christ.”
And he did. Phil and Diane sold their house on the lake, bought a hill in Tennessee, and found a new church in Greenville. Phil gradually dropped out of the music scene to which he had given his life, to give a spiritual legacy to his grandchildren.
Yesterday, I held his hand as the Lord Jesus Christ called him out of this world. Kaya and Eli stood beside me. We grieved, but not as those without hope, for the great Shepherd of the sheep was with us.
There is no way to summarize the meaning of a life, and the gift of friendship goes beyond the capacity of words and definitions. My years with Phil cannot be packaged into a few tidy paragraphs, because there’s not a tidy way of saying, “Phil Thompson change me.”
The brother of our Lord Jesus, James, wrote these words:
“Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.” (James 1:17)
Phil is one of those good and perfect gifts the Father bestowed upon me. I give thanks to the Almighty that Phil is still living, just not here. And I can’t wait to start another reading group in the New Creation.