In Memory of Mick

In Memory of Mick

Mick was simply a great guy.  I have wonderful friends, and Mick was especially one of them but he lived across the pond in Sheffield, England.  We first met when he and is family hosted me after my being asked by the Board of Discipleship to preach in both Sheffield and in London, England. That was back in the early 80’s. But he was not just another person who volunteered to host an American preacher, he was one of those Christians whose faith was his life.  Yes, Mick was “saved” by Jesus, but equally important to him was what he was saved for: God’s work. As a teacher, both in the ‘public’ schools and in the churches where he and his family planted themselves, his witness was clear, and his faith informed all that he did.  He never separated his faith from his work or relationships.  It was the thread that ran through the very core of his being.  He was a family man, married to Jane and they had three children, one of whom they adopted, but you couldn’t tell which one of the children was adopted.  He and Jane loved each equally.  

Mick spent much of his time as a Gideon, but he also smuggled Bibles into China. He traveled with his family and carried his witness everywhere.  He visited us and stayed several weeks and his son Sam, took a “gap year” and toured around  the world, but stayed with us while in his travels.  We trusted Mick and Jane so much that when we returned to England, we put Ginny and Adam on a fast train to Sheffield from London by themselves, and while in Sheffield, they spent two weeks experiencing British education. 

There is much more to Mick than this, but for some reason, his death hit me very hard.  Why?  Who knows?  Maybe it was because my near death experience has made me so sensitive to the transience of life and the terminal nature of our earthly existence. Or, the older I have gotten, I realize how many of those, even those much younger than I am, have died that I had not expected to so soon.  Mick, for example, ate right, exercised daily, and walked across Britain, and much of Europe.  Healthy as a lark. I sure didn’t not expect it. 

But then I realized, that the folks I know, who had a faith and life like Mick, are few, and because his death and passing on to life with God, there is one less for me to trust, love, respect, to call upon, and who prayed for me on a regular basis.  I survived my heart attack because one of those that earnestly interceded on my behalf and for me, was Mick and Jane.  Though our paths on this earth were infrequent, because of time and distance, he was as close to me as a brother.

So, I moped around, had the bittersweet feeling of joy, sadness and maybe a bit of anger.   Joy that God had received him into life with Him and sadness that God left me here without him. I did not know what to do with my feelings.  

Then Sunday came.  It was a Sunday that many Protestants overlook but not in the church we attend.  It was Ascension Sunday, and though I really did not think it would be much different than other worship services that we attend at Wesley Memorial, I was wrong. 

Carrying the burden into that sanctuary was weighing me down but then I began to sing the first hymn and these words jumped out at me, as if Mick with his English accent was firmly saying to me:  

Hail the day that sees Him rise, Alleluia!

To His throne beyond the skies, Alleluia!

Christ, the Lamb for sinners given, Alleluia!

Enters now the highest Heaven, Alleluia!

I felt the burden of Mick’s death lift from my shoulders. But, not because I was less grief stricken, but that in the midst of my grief the One who conquers death, was lifted up to Heaven, and with Him will rise those that have followed him in life and through death. It meant, that one day I will be with Mick and all the saints. And then in a later hymn this verse of “Alleluia, Sing to Jesus”:

Alleluia! Not as orphans are we left in sorrow now.

Alleluia! He is near us; faith believes, nor questions how.

Though the cloud from sight received Him when the forty days were o’er, 

shall our hearts forget his promise, “I’m with you evermore?”

Jesus his King, victorious, sitting at the right hand of the Father and with the Holy Spirit.  This is what Mick look forward to. He knew this, was not afraid of death but exited about living in the presence of God. And he wanted to remind me of that as we talked the day before he transitioned from this life, to the life to come.  He was with the King of Glory, the Lord of Life. That is why he sought to offer Christ to all. I can hear him say: “Think about that Quentin” 

And so, with the magnificent organ playing; the kettle drums beating triumphantly; and the trumpets and the other brass with the choir, leading our hearts and souls, we sang this hymn:

Rejoice, the Lord is King:

Your Lord and King adore!

Rejoice, give thanks and sing,

And triumph evermore.

Lift up your heart,

Lift up your voice!

Rejoice, again I say, rejoice!

 Jesus, the Savior, reigns,

The God of truth and love;

When He has purged our stains,

He took his seat above;

Lift up your heart,

Lift up your voice!

Rejoice, again I say, rejoice!

 His kingdom cannot fail,

He rules o'er earth and heav'n;

The keys of death and hell

Are to our Jesus giv'n:

Lift up your heart,

Lift up your voice!

Rejoice, again I say, rejoice!

 Rejoice in glorious hope!

Our Lord and judge shall come

And take His servants up

To their eternal home:

Lift up your heart,

Lift up your voice!

Rejoice, again I say, rejoice!  

 

I left there, knowing Mick was rejoicing in the eternal presence of God and God made me aware, that one day, I will be doing the same, with him.  There is a thin vale between worship and Heaven and in this worship, the vail was so thin that I could almost see Mick rejoicing as I was rejoicing.  Because of Mick and others, I was led to an even stronger and vibrant faith in Jesus, our Savior and Lord.  I left celebrating, rejoicing and this is what God and Mick would have wanted. Thanks be to God.

Quentin

Sharecropper’s Inheritance

3 V 25