The Ekalaka Eagle - Your Community Builder

Last Friday, Pastor Jon Champlin's family and members of his congregation threw him a surprise birthday party. His wife, Kati Champlin, says he caught on after becoming suspicious of why she was cooking six-pounds of meat.

The Champlin family is celebrating another milestone this week: their one-year Ekalaka anniversary.

Champlin is pastor of Ekalaka Bible Church. He and his wife have two children, both with straw-colored hair, Liam, who is very polite, and Evangeline, who is too young to need manners.

The couple met at Frontier School of the Bible in La Grange, Wyoming while serving together on a missions team. Sitting in the church fellowship room, the pastor smiles and says she had pursued him for a long time.

"Lies," she responds, laughing, "lies from a preacher's mouth."

From age 7 to 19, Jon Champlin lived in the Brazilian Amazon doing missionary work with his parents. The missionaries developed natives into religious and community leaders. Champlin says his tribal neighbors practically adopted him and he took part in some of their customs, including meals. "There is no best part of the monkey," he says.

His parents still do missionary work in Brazil and, when they have internet, take to Facebook to watch their son's sermons.

As a junior in high school, Champlin went on furlough back to the U.S. to visit the missionaries' supporting churches. During this year, he found "a spiritual emptiness in the States." Young people were searching for something, he says, and Christ had the answer. He began teaching Sunday School and Bible studies which "fired his passion and love for teaching God's work."

Champlin sees with the eyes of a man who spends a lot of time outdoors. His cheeks are flush and eyebrows dusted by the sun. Before moving to Ekalaka, he worked on his father-in-law's farm. He enjoys hunting and fishing, though they differ wildly here compared to in the rain forest. As a family, the Champlins spend a lot of time together going on drives or having cookouts. "If we can't manage our own home, how can we manage God's home?" Champlin asks.

On Thursday mornings, he helps unload the delivery truck at Main Street Market. He loads a hand cart with boxes of produce, dry goods or drinks and confidently pushes it through the tight pathway, alert for people popping out into the aisle. He takes a look at an item and rattles off the correct room, section, shelf and placement of the product.

Thursday evenings the church hosts Bible studies. These are casual events. Folks young and old sit with Bibles worn and new, some protected by camouflage or leather cases. Currently, the group is studying Proverbs. During the discussion, Liam pokes his blonde head out of the playroom door to check up on everyone.

Music and song begin both Bible study and Sunday service. Service songs are accompanied by piano but, on Thursday, Kati Champlin sits at a keyboard. The church doesn't have an organ, which doesn't matter because she more than makes up for it with her pipes.

Though he stressed he wasn't a scholar, Champlin's research of the Bible and supplementary texts and his inclusion of multiple books and verses during each group study session or sermon showcase an intense effort to understand and convey God's message. He says he spends up to 20 hours preparing a sermon.

Champlin says a biblical scholars' goal is to understand God's exact meaning by comparing texts and biblical translations as far into antiquity as possible. Champlin strongly believes we are able to do this right now, to be able to decipher His words exactly. He says, "It's not what I say is in the text, it's what God says."

Sunday service is more formal, Champlin wears a dark-blue button-down and complimentary tie with a gold clip placed below a lapel mic. Over 50 worshipers take part in announcing upcoming events, singing, requesting prayers and bowing their heads.

Champlin asks his congregation if they are practicing the word of God or if they are practicing the art of self deception. To show the prevalence of self deception, he talks about the TV show Shark Tank, and an episode where entrepreneurs pitched a mirror that reflects the viewer as two clothing sizes smaller. "I know some of you," he says, "are going to go out and buy yourself one."

Church members laugh, and a man in the back row says he's going to buy two.

At the lectern, Champlin's cadence is slow, deliberate and strong with precise annunciation. His hands act as exclamation points and clarifiers, they amplify, not distract. Two or three times he raises his Bible as he says "the Word." There is a dash of evangelical preacher but extra parts empathy, especially if he breaks character: His voice takes a shyer tone and he smiles while his finger traces his notes. The sermon is enhanced by the staccato yells of his youngest, Evangeline, cheering her father on.

When not on the pulpit, Champlin's body is more relaxed. He listens as much, if not more, than he talks. His smile is easy. He doesn't turn off his evangelism, it's more of an idle he can throttle up anytime. Even so, he says, he isn't always as bold as he should be.

Standing outside the Ekalaka Bible Church, shifting between the sun's glare and shade, Champlin says some disagreement between denominations is inconsequential, but the Gospel is fact, no debate. He isn't trying to grow his following, he says, and if someone fits better in a different church, he encourages them. The key question, he says, is "Have you put your faith in Jesus Christ?"