Above all else, Lincoln was a good friend. We shared many interests: Sherlock Holmes movies, Wimbledon tennis, Oxford—all things British. We could talk for hours about his mentor, G.B. Caird, and his experiences at Mansfield College. He told me many stories, many more than once. When this happened, I never interrupted him, always hoping that he might share new information— details, jokes, and insights—the second or third time around. His tales were always engrossing and humorous.
Lincoln had special way of broadening my cultural horizon. Before our trip to England, we discussed our plans with Lincoln who suggested we visit “The Cloisters” at New College, Oxford. We did, and it was sublime; just like Lincoln said it would be. (In fact, the site is so magical it was used in a Harry Potter movie.)
Dismayed by my ignorance of classical movies, Lincoln took it upon himself to educate me in the finer points of this genre. Once when I suggested that he bring over an after dinner movie, to my surprise he brought over the entire Errol Flynn “Signature Collection” (six DVDs total). Upon the last bite of dinner, Lincoln leapt from his seat, excitedly shoed me into our family room, and gently forced me to watch Sea Hawk. After the movie was over, we watched his commentary on the film (included in the Special Features). Upon leaving that night, he gave me the set. A truly remarkable man!
Like many, I was drawn to Lincoln’s brilliant mind and eagerly sought his approval concerning my academic endeavors. I was deeply touched and honored when last spring he attended my lecture: Our God is Marching On: The Theology of Martin Luther King, Jr. For a brief moment I was the ‘teacher’ and he the ‘student’. In a mischievous way, Lincoln took great joy in the reversal of roles (I gave him a lot of grief as a student!).
My wife and two-year old daughter also adored Lincoln. Jen always appreciated his compliments at meal time. “ “. And she too, reveled in his sense of humor and friendship. My daughter was in awe of Lincoln, but never afraid of him. She naturally knew that he was a gentle spirit. Always the educator, Lincoln taught her how to say “see you later alligator, in a while crocodile.” She, on the other hand, could bring a smile to his face by simply remembering his name when he came to the house. One of Lincoln’s emails that I cherish most is where he promises to pray for my daughter’s heart surgery. In the end, I am not sure Lincoln ever knew how much joy and comfort, I and my family received from his friendship, wisdom, and prayers.
Over the years our relationship change and grew. We became better, stronger friends. He always treated me as an equal and I saw him as a grandfatherly figure. We worked together on Caird-related projects, talked politics, shared personal stories, and “lamented” about our loosing sports teams. I’m a big Sharks fan, he a big Cubs fan. At his passing, the thing I regretted most was missing a SF Giant’s baseball game he had invited me to. Not realizing how much longer he had to live, I passed on the game (I had just returned to work after summer vacation). I never knew that two months later he would be gone.
In sum, Lincoln Hurst was the most brilliant man I have ever met and the best professor I ever had. His impact on my life incalculable; his death crushing. I will never be the same. “The pillar perished is whereto I leant.” – Sir Thomas Wyatt
One consolation of my faith (a faith that Lincoln taught me so much about) is that I will one day see him again, when our Lord “leads men sons to glory”. As me move “further up, further in”, I look forward to conversing with him about the newly revealed answers to all of the theological questions we did not understand during our lifetimes.
“See you later alligator, in a while crocodile.”
“We do not grieve like those without hope.”
Friday, January 2, 2009
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