(A couple of weeks ago I posted about the parable of the shrewd manager in Luke 16. I meant for this post to be the start of a three part shrewd manager series. Here's part 2.)
Davidthird comes from my position in my family. My dad's name is David, my grandfather's name is David, so I am David the third. Davidthird.
This post is about David the first, David Edgar Dilworth, or Grandpa D. He was a great servant of the church, first as a missionary, then as a theology professor, and finally as a pastor. Grandpa D passed away four years ago this week, and as a memorial I wanted to share a story of the shrewd manager in his life.
My Grandpa suffered from neuropathy, a disease that affected the nerves in his extremities. The disease became so bad that he could hardly move his hands or feet toward the end of his life; regardless, he taught classes at a church in La Canada every week until he was 82. He would roll into the classroom with his walker a few minutes before class. A few times he asked me to write some notes for him on the white board, but frequently he taught without notes--for his class and for himself. His final series of classes, the ones I remember best, were on the parables of Jesus, and he knew them so well that he did not need notes.
It worked out that he taught on the parable of the shrewd manager just a few weeks after I had studied the passage in my dorm. I was surprised at the timing--I had not heard of the parable in eighteen years of life, and suddenly it had popped up twice in one month. He began his exegesis slowly, constructing the world in which the shrewd manager lived and then walking his students through the sticky text of the parable. He took his time, savoring the text and the students. Grandpa D loved the Bible, and he used quiet charm and disarming smile to teach others to love it too.
But his charm did not cause him to mince words--I think especially in his old age. He knew that Jesus was serious when he said, "No servant can serve two masters...You cannot serve both God and money." So in his calm, compelling way, he called the class to conviction, and the room grew silent--La Canada is a wealthy place.
Grandpa D could have shied away from this last verse, shielding himself from the class's forthcoming hard questions and criticism, but he did not. My Grandpa did not draw his worth and his purpose from the class's approval, though he frequently had it; neither did he draw his worth from money, though he was not poor. He lived for a higher honor, which he has now received.
Well done, good and faithful servant.
Monday, March 09, 2009
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1 comment:
Your grandpa was a great individual. I wish I had known him better than the one evening we spent with them.
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