Last night I heard a 'voice from the past'. Amazing, isn't it , what technological 'gadgets' can provide. The 'voice' that I heard was that of my Mentor and Academic Father, the late Reverend Doctor Harrell F. Beck. In the Spring semester of 1961, I enrolled in his course "Hebrew Wisdom Literature" at Boston University School of Theology. Easily the most academically challenging and gratifying class that I took during my year there, I remain proud of the "A" that was earned. And while his status as a scholar was impressive, what most endeared him was his human warmth and 'approachability'. (Harrell's scholarly credentials and achievements can be viewed at www.Facebook.com/HarrellBeck. The site was set up by some of his proteges as a way of remembering and continuing his legacy.)
Well into that semester, I knew that I was "in the wrong pew, in the wrong church, at the wrong time in my life." And while I hardly had vocational clarity (after all, I was 23 years old -- Time to 'get on with it' !), I felt that to leave school would have been a betrayal to many who had supported my matriculation. Hardly knowing the man but sensing his integrity, I made a lunch appointment with Dr. Beck. He listened carefully, then expressed his opinion that I was not being remiss but rather was attempting to be honest and find my way. How liberating; how affirming!
From May, 1961 when I departed Boston until Harrell's death in December ,1987, we saw each face to face perhaps on a half dozen or so occasions. The most memorable of those visits occurred in the Summer of 1985 when he preached at my installation as Minister of a North Carolina congregation. (God does have a sense of humor !) Beyond the memory of those times together, I have a thick file of the correspondence we maintained over those years.
His letters abounded with humor, wisdom, encouragement, affection, and his humanity.
In late November, 1987, I wrote to him extensively about the vicissitudes of life as a parish minister and still seeking (at age 49, after an extensive tenure as college professor) the vocational path of fulfillment. His response was, as usual, supportive and encouraging: "I am sure you have talents and gifts that are not being used and I think it is important to be specific about one or two of those and see that they are brought into use."
I bemoaned that he was soon to depart for Hong Kong where he would again have a teaching appointment. He responded: "I too lament the fact that we meet so seldom. . . . At least we can write. We can be present to each other without either geographic presence or writing, but both of the latter are much better. . . . Surely heaven is a place for the fullness of relationship." Before that day ended, Harrell was dead from acute myocardial infarction.
After his death, I learned of this prayer he had written:
"I'd like to be a flower in the garden of God. I'd like to take my
chances in the wind and the rain, in the storm and the sunshine. I'd like to be planted among a variety of species in the midst of an assortment of colors--and sizes--and shapes; and to grow among the lilies and the lilacs, the crocuses and the chrysanthemums, the poppies and the pansies, and yes even the dandelions. I want to be part of an absolute riot of color and beauty.
Pray God I might last long enough to blossom. And, then, Lord, early if you want to, late if you can, I want you to pick me. And if I must be alone in a solitary vase, I'll take it. I'd rather be in a bouquet. But could I be something beautiful, Lord, and placed on your table at somebody's covenantal mement, when they're bringing their child or when they're burying their beloved or when they are sealing a vow? That could be joy enough, God, but could I ask one more thing? Could it be possible that someone would say, 'That reminds me of a flower I once saw, a rose in Sharon, a lily of the valley, who was once picked by God and gave up his life --to add beauty and significance to the lives of others.' "
Last night, he was much on my mind and I did a Google search, and that is where I heard his voice. There are two of his lectures on
'SoundTheology.org/speaker/speaker-beck-harrell' . I heard just one of them . . . 'Escape to Reality', apparently addressed to a group of United Methodist Ministers in Spokane, Washington, at an unspecified date. It's a tad long . . . about an hour . . . but most substantive.
I was delighted to hear his voice again with his depth of insight and faith and his warmth of expression. I invite you to listen.
Satchel
I hear your sorrow at losing him in your words.
ReplyDelete