Back to the grind today. New term of classes began. Varsity basketball underway. The next 12 weeks are already flying by…
But before we move on, I want to share a quick eulogy for one of my spiritual mentors who died during the holidays. Pastor Joe Seitz was my childhood pastor at Grace Lutheran in Red Lion. He retired during my high school years, but we stayed in touch even after that. While he shaped my pre-Christian soul extensively and in many unforeseen ways, I especially enjoyed our conversations after I became a believer in college.
I want to share two short but significant memories of Pastor Seitz. First, when I was just an elementary student, Pastor Seitz told me (prophesied?) that I should be a pastor someday. My initial thought to this statement has wryly stuck in my memory: “I don’t want to be a pastor. I want to have fun in life.” Looking back now, I see the irony of my line of thinking. Jesus came that we might have life and joy to the fullest. My life now is happier and fuller than I ever dreamed and definitely more than I ever deserved, and it’s happened—surprise, surprise—as a Christian and as a missionary. The other memorable point about this encounter was that Pastor Seitz breathed vision into me. While my father contributed positive things to my development, he never instilled me with much purpose. Pastor Seitz was giving my soul a purpose, giving my life significance, by even mentioning a destiny in God’s kingdom. I certainly walked away from the Lord and His people for a few years of my life, but I now can see how influences like Pastor Seitz helped bring me back home. I shared my gratitude about this significant experience with Pastor Seitz before he died.
The second event is not as broad in scope. It was simply an insight, a profound piece of wisdom that shaped my future relationships. As a young Christian in college, Pastor Seitz invited me into his home for lunch and conversation. As the topic turned to my father, I told him about the distance that existed between us. He asked a few direct questions that eventually came to this point: people need to know how you need them. Rather than bemoan his deficiencies, I should rather express points of gratitude, express the positive aspects of our relationship in the past and present. Pastor Seitz’s wisdom lit up my heart. I began communicating love so much more effectively to not just my dad but to many people in my life. I became less afraid to express need to others and more willing to open up my own heart to those who already held a piece of it.
The cold Pennsylvania day in December on which Pastor Seitz died was seasonally warm here in Kenya. As I thought about the differences in climate between where he was and where I was, I considered the flowers blooming and crops rising. I considered how beauty and freedom and life and warmth can exist in one place, while death and decay and cold can exist in another.
And then I thought about Pastor Seitz. With Jesus. With his wife Bonnie. In a place of infinite joy and pleasure and contentment and worship, right now, as we grieve and remember and live on earth. It’s a far brighter and far better place. This thought and memories of the life of Joe Seitz warm my soul still today.
