Yesterday I was informed of the death of my childhood priest. He was a man who was one of the most devout and faith filled people I had ever known. Father Cookson lived a rich and blessed 101 years. During his lifetime he served under 7 Presiding Bishops, which in and of itself is remarkable in view of the fact that they each served for nine years. His tenure of ministry I believe was unique in a number of ways.
He began his ministry journey with his education at General Theological Seminary in New York while he worked at the same time to support his mother who was alone. Fr. Cookson was ordained to the Diaconate in 1934 and the Priesthood in 1935. Then God called this little bit of a man to a land far away; Montana. Here he set off on a journey that would change his life and the lives of all whom he knew.
In Montana he quickly became rector of a growing parish in Billings. He served as youth director for the state shortly after his arrival. While attending a youth conference in Kalispell in western Montana he met his bride to be. Several months later they were married at a convention and on their return to Billings their car slid off of the road (in the mountains of western Montana that was something to be greatly feared). They were saved by a tree that got in the way of their rapid descent several hundred yards below the road-where they surely would have met their demise. They were rescued and lived a long and happy life.
Fr. Cookson and his beloved Emogene ministered several different times in Montana with two major ministries occurring in Panama in the interim. They were called to share the love of Jesus throughout the world and did so with eloquence and blessedness to all.
When I was a little girl and my family would go to church, my younger sister would always stand in the pew and wait for Father to stand at the back and when the procession would begin she would holler; “Here comes God!” and she meant it. As an adult I can more fully appreciate her perspective, but I also say; “out of the mouths of babes, a prophetic voice is heard.” Father Cookson is the sole reason my mother converted from Catholicism to the Episcopal Church. Had he not assured my mother that Episcopalians could and would go to heaven, also, she might never have converted and we all know that I would never have encountered the possibility of the priesthood in the Catholic Church.
He was a man of deep faith who had a gentleness about him that made you feel as though you were in the presence of the Risen Lord whenever you were with him. He was humble and kind beyond measure. When I was called into ministry he and his wife told me they knew this was happening and that God had assured them that I would be allowed to minister in the name of Jesus to a great many people. He gave me my first book toward my antique collection and when I left for seminary he gave me a Bible with an inscription that I will cherish forever.
I know that you too have likely had spiritual mentors in your journey and I pray that as we approach the season of Lent we can all begin to examine what their hopes and prayers for us may have been. We are lifted because of the Holy Spirit nudging not only us, but a number of others as well. It is our choice to decide if we will respond to God’s call.
Finally, as I prayed before I retired last night the image that kept coming to my mind about my beloved childhood priest was that of him meeting Jesus face to face. What a blessed reunion that must have been and I could hear Jesus say to him; “Well done good and faithful servant, welcome to the feast I have prepared for you.”
With humility in Christ,
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