A beloved pastor and dear friend/father figure gently left
this Earth a few weeks ago. Having just
returned home from a quick trip to attend his memorial service, I felt the
desire to bid my final farewell to this giant of a man whose preaching, love
and acceptance transformed my life.
Adios El Viejo
Those who loved him knew him as “El Viejo” – the old one.
Even his grandchildren called him that.
For as long as I knew him, he had predetermined his death age to be
84. He outlived this by seven years –
thankfully. Paul David Sholin was his
given name. Dave, to most. I met him when I transferred my church
membership to his small Presbyterian church, having grown impatient and
disheartened with the church in which I grew up. I regret not having made the move sooner.
Dave was the founding pastor of this church. He was also a pillar in the greater
community. He was a powerful, persuasive,
challenging preacher – if you sought a service where you would come away with a
warm, fuzzy feeling – this was NOT the place for you. Dave’s booming voice and prophetic words
stirred you, shook you, shocked you even.
But if you were open, you came away with an understanding of the gospel
and Christ that was profoundly deep and life transforming. Dave challenged you to LIVE the gospel every
day – in service, in praise, in devotion, in prayer. He did not attempt to make you comfortable –
indeed, he seemed to revel in making you as UNcomfortable as possible when it
came to how you lived your life as a Christian.
But he did so not out of some perverse desire to feel superior or
powerful – he did so out of the very deep convictions and beliefs he had about
how we were to live our mortal lives. My
understanding of my faith, my church and my personal beliefs largely stem from
the years I listened to Dave preach.
They also came at his side during a brief, beautiful time
when I was dating his son and was welcomed in as part of his inner circle. I desperately loved the son – but fell in
love with the whole family as I came to know them. As part of this loving group, I had access to
Dave on a much more personal level, and here I came to know him not just as my
pastor. I learned of his witty, biting
sense of humor, his deep genuine laugh, his love of all things Spanish. I came to know his weathered, wise face, warm
smile, and intense love for his family.
I spent hours in his home and around his table. I was embraced by love and acceptance and
laughter and joy. We spoke of sports and
politics and travel and guitar and movies and poetry and religion and social
justice.
And thus, as I grew to know him deeply – so did my love for
him grow. The relationship with his son
ended – definitely for the best – but at the time, heartbreaking. Yet, I remain grateful to this day for that
experience and my love for all of them never ended.
So now, my beloved friend and spiritual guide is at last
celebrating his new life in Christ. I am
overjoyed for him – but will deeply miss him.
Adios, Viejo – your body is now gone, and for a time we will
grieve and weep – but I know I will see you and feel your presence all around
me if I am open – in a call to justice, in a political rally, in a hearty
laugh, in an orange sunset, in the whispering strains of classical guitar, in a
glowing pipe, in a crashing wave, in a rousing sermon, in a stirring poem, in a
moving hymn. You have touched a
multitude of lives. You have changed
mine forever.
Vaya con Dios, Viejo.
I love you.
