The week I received the news that we were expecting the birth of our first son is the same week I learned to read my Bible.
He didn't stand out in a crowd, nor did he crowd any kind of conversation. He sat on a sofa with his tattered, marked-up, almost cover-less Bible in his lap and smiled as he observed the room. I was getting ready to go on stage for a sound check and passively said, hello.
As the sound check was coming to a close, my wife pulled me off the stage to tell me the news, "We are going to have a baby." Overwhelmed and shocked I took a few minutes to gather myself before returning to the stage. I sat on a sofa that was also occupied by Dr. Robert Lowery.
He sat there reading his Bible with the eyes of a scavenger looking for detail all while maintaining a sense of wonder and devotion. He had a blue ink pen in his hands and was noting and marking new insights.
I sat there watching him for a minute then he greeted me. He asked me my name and encouraged me with a hearty congratulations. I commented on his obsessive marks and scribbles. He talked about Dave Matthews and U2. I asked what he was reading and he told me about the record, Slow Train Coming by Bob Dylan. He connected with me.
Later on he sat me down and showed me how to read the Bible. He gave me insights into the importance of reading contextually. Dr. Lowery taught me how to look at the Scriptures, how to meditate, and think. One week, that's all we had together. But this man who had personally mentored and taught so many in the classroom, sat with me in a green room in Adrian Michigan and taught me how to read the Bible.
He passed away last week. I never spoke to him again. There was never a time that I got to sit under his teaching beyond the sofa in Adrian. But I've never forgotten the simple tools he gave me and the hunger he had for God's Word.
My son is now nine years old. My Bible is not as worn out or marked up, but my memory is. Dr. Lowery was the man who taught me to read the Bible, the same week I heard the news.

