Rachel (Paxton) Winkel
I have many fond memories of John, but two in particular that taught me profound lessons. Both occurred when he was serving as the Bishop and I was a youth in the ward:
The first: Bishop Lippolis called me into his office one day without being too specific about the reason. We made small talk for a minute and then he got this cryptic look on his face and said something to the effect of "I know that as a youth, it probably seems like people don't always take you as seriously as you'd like them to. Maybe it seems like people don't always listen, so you don't always feel like your words have power. I just want to let you know that what you say to people and how you say it has more impact than you think. So wield that power carefully when it comes to people's feelings." Even though he didn't say it outright, it was clear to both of us that my teenage attitude had pushed my poor youth leaders too far and they were likely exhausted and unsure what to do with me. While he had every right to give me a stern lecture, John's graceful wisdom and gentle kindness got the message across crystal clear that day; I've never forgotten it.
The second: Eileen Cheney had just passed away from cancer. Coincidentally, I was scheduled to sing a musical number, "Consider the Lilies" in church the next day. When I reached the lines "Consider the sweet, tender children who must suffer on this Earth. The pains of all of them He carried from the day of His birth," I thought of Eileen, and I broke down and couldn't finish the song. I hoped it would pass without comment. After the meeting, Bishop Lippolis pulled me into his office again and said something like "I know you probably would have liked to give more technically perfect performance of that song, but I want you to know that what you did was just as beautiful and powerful a testimony as any rendition could have been." John taught me that an imperfect offering, made in love for God and others, is a precious, beautiful thing.
We will all miss John so much and we are lucky to carry with us everything he taught us. We love you, Lippolises.

