John Montgomery
March 23, 2011 in Duluth Georgia
John and Judy Montgomery
John exemplified, in my time with him, a light touch on being. While teaching with him at the Academy, he used to be a counterpoint to the Van Gogh seriousness of our colleague Desmond Avery. His favorite illustration for his Freedom lecture was his spoiled fat puppy.
Judy and John became extended family in Uptown and our last gathering together was full of laughter over pizza and beer. When the Montgomerys relocated to Atlanta, and Judy called ‘ten-four,’ John got designated Uncle in my book, especially when Mary Lou moved to the Peach State. I last clinked glasses with John (he was with one of the boys, not sure whether it was Tim or Matt) at Kristina’s wedding in 2007 in southern Illinois.
Even John’s metaphysical and theological musings (we tried email but it was sparodic) were sprinkled with the touch of irreverent lightness and defiance to established order. His email monkey handle alone attested to a rebellious guerrilla stance striking at the edges rather than confronting the core, pirouetting as a trans-establishment on tiptoes!
So if there is levity in our grief, it comes not only from our ethnicity but also of jovial Friar Tuck character that John on many occasions enjoyed playing. I think it is in character that we can all grin as we bid him adieu.
~~. Jaime Vergara
I met John Montgomery in Milwaukee when recruiting him to Academy. Later, what a gift he and Judy were for our sons (John was a youth and Jeremiah a pre-schooler) as our chosen guardians at Kemper while we were assigned to a year in India. The last time we saw John was around Judy’s death, but we have stayed in touch by the list, emails, and his blog. I just looked at it and found this typically lucid entry by John:
…it seems to me that in the context of SK’s model, the grace event might be somewhat different depending on the stage of despair.
…it seems to me that immediacy is transformed by expanding the context – putting the basics in perspective. I am struck that given the current trend of mission trips, when folks return in one way or another they report that while they went to serve, they discovered that in reality they had been served. Given a new perspective, a new sense of unity was at hand.
The shattering of the illusions undergirding circumspection is transformed not by expanding the context, but by “rubbing one’s face in the fact of innocent suffering.” You’ve got it bad and you just want to sit and feel sorry for yourself.
One of my favorite stories of late is the witness of a man who was dutifully but reluctantly serving in a soup kitchen because his wife pushed him to do it. Suddenly, standing in the line, he finds one of his friends from work looking to get a box of food to help his family to make it through the next couple of weeks. In such a shocking encounter, he witnesses that his arrogant charity suddenly became compassionate solidarity.
Finally, it seems to me that defiance is not transformed by attention to a larger context or a deeper identity with that context. Defiant despair is a lucid response and is not transformed by new information. Such despair is only transformed when one grasps how silly defiance is.
We will surely miss your direct presence, John. Journey on at the heart of grace and peace.
~~ John Cock
Judy Montgomery
Jaime’s reflection of jovial John M. reminds me that John was one of the Blues Brothers in one of the Cabaret celebrations at ICA during a summer program. I believe he played the sax. Who was the other Blues Brother? Was it Lee Early or George Packard? I can remember someone tall. On a recent trip to Chicago’s Midway Airport, we took a photo of the Blues Brother statue which I meant to send to John. Instead we used it on John’s blog (www.rejourney.blogspot.com) in memory of John. We’ll listen to some good jazz as we remember John this week.
John and Judy were the guardians for our son Jeremiah when we left for a year in India. Jono was in the student house, but visited with the Montgomeries often to see his little brother. Their informative letters, photos and even a phone call (before the advent of everyone having a computer and skype abilities) were most helpful to us as we struggled with being so far away from our youngsters. We had been in 5th City with John and Judy several years before when Jeremiah was born. Judy and I struggled with Fifth City Preschool budgets and later worked in Training Inc. together. We give thanks for their lives and for their service to local communities and to the world. Our sympathy and care to Tim and Matt and John’s family. Peace,
~~ Lynda Cock
I knew Judy prior to her EI/ICA days. We met in 1964, early in my Freshman year at Oklahoma State University, Stillwater, OK. We both lived in Murray Hall Dormitory and were active Wesley Foundation members. There were multiple “Judys” at both venues so we soon called her “Sparks” or at times “Judy Beth”…Judith Elizabeth Sparks (later Montgomery).
A ray of sunshine, welcome and acceptance, Sparks was as ready to discuss deep subjects as to debate the chances of a Cowboy football win or to join in the planning of a river-bottom party. Smart and savvy, full of fun, joy and inspiration, Judy embodied Love; her laugh was contagious.
Judy was known to encourage participation as well as join other students in weekend expeditions to the Ecumenical Institute in Chicago. Those long weekend drives were sometimes as thought provoking as the EI seminars we attended. Both could prove to be life changing.
In the Spring of 1966 (the end of my sophomore year) Judy Sparks graduated from OSU and headed to Kansas City and the staff of the Methodist Inner City Parish.
The middle of my Junior Year at OSU, I found myself uncertain of my Sociology major and in need of a break from college. With the reluctant blessing of my parents, I loaded my car and moved to an apartment in Kansas City, planning to work and “find myself” before returning to complete my bachelor’s degree. I chose Kansas City (a big city reasonably close to my hometown, Sapulpa, OK) in large part because of the presence there of friends like Judy Sparks, John Rapp and others.
Sparks was part cheerleader and elder statesman; part den mother and caregiver for our diverse group of KC friends and fellow travelers during the nine months before I returned to OSU. Often, Judy was indeed “the spark” needed by one or more of us. Whether leading late night forays to “swim” in various of the many KC fountains, participating in a deep philosophical or religious discussion, co-hosting a Parish House get-together or simply being a friend willing to listen, Sparks’ presence was always felt.
We went our separate ways after Kansas City. Judy remained a dear friend and an important contributor to who I was and who I would become. Her death so young was a loss felt by many more than the beloved family she left behind, both at the time and in the years to come.
When I have gathered with OSU friends over the years, I have felt Judy’s presence among us. I think of the impact she had on those of us who knew her at OSU and in Kansas City and the impact I feel certain she had on people I will never know; such a Gift to all of us!