A good friend of mine from Messiah died last week. His funeral was today, followed by a memorial service that packed the sanctuary and the fellowship hall.
We have had quite a few deaths this year at Messiah but Marty's was unusual for his young age (53) and for me because we were close. How close? Not nearly close enough, as it turns out. Often when we lose someone (for now, anyway, because I know that I will see Marty again in the hereafter) we are shocked by just how much they meant to us.
I am already going through the "Oh I should tell Marty about this, oh no that's right he's gone" phase.
Marty had some health problems that kept him from playing the sports (cycling and golf) that I enjoy with my other close friends.
Our way of getting together and catching up was to meet for lunch, which we did fairly often but not nearly often enough to please either of us.
There used to be a law office on top of the hill on Ballinger in Shoreline near Canyon’s and Todo Americanas, two of the several restaurants where Marty and I had lunch over the years.
Out in front of that law office was a sign. The kind with the changeable letters. And they would change it once a week. Most often it would be an aphorism of some sort, sometimes an announcement of a community event but usually some kind of saying, philosophical, religious or quasi – religious.
The law office and sign are gone now, having moved away a couple years ago.
There is only one posting that I now remember from that sign…
“The best sermons are lived, not preached”.
We can argue about the works righteous theology of that saying but it reminds me of Marty.
As Pastor said in Marty's eulogy today, "the first time you met Marty, you knew right away that he was a Christian." His lovely wife Joanne said, "Marty was conservative in politics but liberal in friendship."
Marty was full of the gospel. As much as anyone I have ever known. He had a deep generosity of spirit that I personally witnessed again and again. He was the consummate family man. His love for Joanne and his two children was obvious when they were together in church and is and will always be in the character and attitude of Philip and Laura.
There was in Marty a sort of conspiratorial cheerfulness that is hard to describe but was obvious to the beholder. A smile that said, “come here, I have a secret to share with you”. And he did. It was his persistent and consistent living love for those around him, which he practiced every day in a thousand little ways, always in the spirit of the Gospel of Our Lord.
Marty’s love in Christ was expressed every day in the way he interacted with others. He was a Cheerful Young Lutheran. I would like to be more like him.
Marty was my friend . And I will miss him. For now.
To view Marty's legacy click here.
