Richard Hays and I were friends for more than a Biblical generation— 40 years. We were both chosen to be John Wesley Fellows in the early years of that Scholarship Program. From the start, we had many things in common beyond being orthodox Methodists who felt called to study the NT at the graduate and post-graduate level. We loved baseball, in particular those teams which were both in Boston when I was born— namely the Red Sox and the Braves. I remember Ann and I visiting the Hays in New Haven when their children were young, and later having long conversations as to whether he should leave a prestigious NT post at Yale (his undergraduate school) in order to be a good influence for Methodism at Duke. I encouraged him to realize that Duke needed him more than he needed Duke, but the reviving of our divinity schools in a more orthodox direction was one thing we had both committed ourselves to as John Wesley Fellows. We were both hopeful that his influence there would help bring at least one Methodist divinity school closer to being what Mr. Wesley would have wanted.
But we were also children of the 60s, who loved the Beatles and the rise of rock n’ roll. Indeed, we both took up guitars, learned songs, and sang our way into the subsequent decades. I vividly remember a conversation we had heading back to N.C. from the Wesley Fellows meeting in Kentucky mourning together the loss of John Lennon through a senseless murder. Both Richard and I were pacifists who felt Christ’s teachings in the Sermon on the Mount called for such a commitment, and Lennon’s death was one more evidence that violence was no way for humans to resolve their issues. I still have a draft of Richard’s doctoral dissertation he did on Galatians at Emory which he asked me to make comments and suggestion on. He was always so gracious, and enjoyed the give and take of a good critical discussion. We very often agreed on things, but sometimes we disagreed. But it did not matter. We were good friends, and the Christian friendship transcended whatever disagreements we might have had—we respected and loved each other as brothers in Christ.
After Richard came to Duke, I enjoyed visiting with him there, since I was a native of N.C. and had done some adjuncting for the Div. school in the early 80s, teaching the standard sermons of Wesley. We would go to Duke games, and were passionate about the rivalry between my Tar Heels ( I’m a 74 grad of that school) and his Blue Devils. I remember as well three wonderful occasions when we got to go to baseball games together, once at the SNTS meeting in Chicago we went to Wrigley and cheered for the Cubs. We also went to see the Red Sox in the playoffs in Cleveland. But the big one was when I managed to get tickets to the Braves World Series games in Atlanta vs. the Yankees in 1996. Sadly we didn’t get to see the Braves win that World Series.
In regard to our various writing projects and books, Richard and I often encouraged each other, and we had good discussions. Richard once said to me— ‘Ben ponder more, and write less’, though he really appreciated various of my books. My response to him was ‘Richard write more and ponder less, we all need more from your pen’. Our most recent exchange was when his book on Echoes of Scriptures in the Gospels came out and I did a dialogue with him about it on my Patheos Blog, the Bible and Culture. It was such an excellent discussion, I republished it in my book Isaiah Old and New talking about the influence of the OT on the Gospels.
Last Fall, when Richard announced his cancer had recurred, I wrote him several times reassuring him of my prayers. In fact, we were both simultaneously watching the same playoff baseball game one night in October and at one point they had a stand up for cancer moment, and with tears in my eyes, I stood up for Richard, and told him so. As always, he was grateful, and I told him I had hoped we could get together one more time and play guitars together. He suggested we do so in the Kingdom. I do indeed look forward to seeing him there. Even though we disagreed last Fall about his change of mind about ‘the presenting issue’ in Methodism which he wrote about in the book he did with his son Chris, this by no means stopped us from continuing to be good friends in Christ to the end. We were both well aware that ‘we see through a glass darkly’ and know only in part in this life, and certainly there is always indeed a wideness to God’s mercy, though I would add that God’s call for us to be holy, as he is holy, is also a non-negotiable.
Of other things I wish, I wish we could have gone together to see the wonderful movie about Bob Dylan recently in theaters. I know he would have loved it as I do.
Fare thee well, my old friend, until we meet again in the realm where all things are made new, and there is no suffering, sin, or sorrow, no disease, decay, or death. May the Lord bless you and keep you and make his face to shine upon you, and also on Judy and Chris and Sarah and the grandkids,
Grace and peace,
Ben
English (US) · 