Memorials: Glimpses of God’s Tapestry

It was a call we did not expect. It came 18 months ago from Cathy and Rick Roberts, college friends who served in the Greater European Mission organization for almost 40 years. They were leaders and pastors to missionaries who were serving throughout Europe. Their heart for the Gospel was evident. Rick was my resident assistant my junior year at college. I liked him from the minute I met him. He always made you feel like you were known. Cathy was one of my wife Ruth’s best friends (and my first date in college), and the valedictorian of our class. Although we lived far apart, we remained friends for a lifetime.

Cathy let us know that Rick had developed a neurological disease which did not have a cure. His body would slowly betray him, and he would slowly lose his memory. There was no timeline but the path to the end of life was set. Cathy asked for our prayers, which we were honored to give, but we also made sure we visited and renewed our relationship. As time progressed, we saw Rick’s physical and mental decline.

We were to visit Rick one last time this month, but Cathy called in April and let us know that Rick had gone to be with the Lord. The memorial was in May. 

I adjusted my travel schedule and Ruth joined me in Monument, Colorado. Hundreds of Rick and Cathy’s friends came to pay tribute to a friend and follower of Christ. The church sat amidst the magnificent Rocky Mountains. The prairie grasses in May were sprinkled with colorful flowers. It seemed like too nice a day to attend a memorial. Surrounded by beauty, we were faced with the reminder of death. 

In one of C. S. Lewis’ essays, he suggested, “What modern Christians find it hardest to remember, is that the whole life of humanity in this world is also temporary, temporal, provisional.” That afternoon, the truth of his statement was evident. We gathered to honor a life that was temporary, and it reminded each of us that ours was temporary as well. 

I suppose, on some level, memorials are sad events. Those of us gathered have lost someone who played an important role in our lives. That person is now gone, and our lives feel the vacuum; we miss Rick’s presence. But this memorial was anything but sad. The family had chosen to remember Rick through the stories of family and friends, who were chosen to share their stories and connections with Rick. The individuals who shared were quite varied – a hunting friend, a pastoral colleague, a couple whom he mentored, a brother-in-law, a son, and a wife. What was clear in all the testimonials was that Rick was a talented leader who did his job well. But while he excelled in his work, it was not what set him apart. One person captured his uniqueness in this statement: “Rick’s gentleness and caring spirit were always evident in his conversations with you. He made you feel valued.”  

When I heard that statement, I immediately thought, “Yes, that is right. That is how he made me feel as well.” As I sat in the memorial, tears began to stream down my face, but they were not tears of sadness. Certainly, I will miss Rick, but the stories that afternoon made me think of another recent memorial where we celebrated the life of our wonderful dean of nursing, Pam Fifer. Both Pam and Rick lived full lives and ones that brought Christ’s presence into countless relationships and conversations. 

The last people to share in the service were a young couple, Micah and Andrea Heath. After a bit, we realized we knew Andrea from her time serving in a key admissions role at George Fox more than a decade ago. The two of them described their encounter with Rick at George Fox as they considered God’s calling on their lives. Rick and Cathy became mentors to them, and both helped them identify their God-given gifts and helped them consider God’s calling on their lives. Because of Rick and his mentorship, Micah and Andrea became ministers to France, and later Rick, when his health began to fail, helped Micah become his successor in the mission organization. Rick’s life had made all the difference to them. 

Reflecting on that day, it was obvious to me that God is weaving a purposeful tapestry together in our lives. College seems like so long ago now, but we certainly did not imagine in the late 1970s that Rick and Cathy would marry and become longtime missionaries to Europe. Ruth and I did not know that we would end up at a college in Newberg, Oregon, where we would spend most of our adult lives helping advance the work of God with young followers of Christ. Rick helped me on occasion work with the executive team of George Fox, and on one of those visits to Oregon, he met Micah and Andrea. It was through this engagement that God took them on a path that they did not imagine. Yet, on that afternoon in Colorado, we began to get a glimpse of the tapestry God was weaving – not only in Rick’s life, but in the lives that he touched. It was a testimony of faithfulness. 

C.S. Lewis, in one of his essays in the book The World’s Last Night, noted that humans “do not know the play. We do not even know whether we are in Act I or Act V. We do not know who are the major and who the minor characters. The Author knows. The audience, if there is an audience (if angels and archangels and all the company of heaven fill the pit and the stalls) may have an inkling. But we, never seeing the play from outside, never meeting any characters except the tiny minority who are ‘on’ in the same scenes as ourselves, wholly ignorant of the future and very imperfectly informed about the past . . . We are led to expect that the Author will have something to say to each of us on the part that each of us has played. The playing it well is what matters infinitely.” (C. S. Lewis, The World’s Last Night). 

Both Rick Roberts’ and Pam Fifer’s memorials reminded me that our sight is limited. God is at work in our lives. We are the hands and feet of Christ, and we have the privilege of sharing his love with everyone we touch. Literally, thousands of students have come through George Fox in my 27 years, each with a story and a desire to be known by our community and the Lord. Our “job,” in Lewis’s terms, is to play our role well, knowing that the Author is at work guiding a bigger story that will last for eternity, where the stories go on and on and each one is better than the last. We hope that our friends may also say of us as they did of Pam and Rick, “We caught a glimpse of Jesus because of them.”