Barry Dundas

My Friend Dred

My good friend Dr. Ed Cook died today. I met Ed over ten years ago when I was appointed to East Heights United Methodist Church. I can even remember the first question he ever asked me. Ed believed in the Socratic method, he liked to ask questions to push one's thinking even more than he liked hearing the answer. I was in a summer Sunday school class to introduce me as a new pastor. As I was telling my story I made the claim that I had discovered how Wesleyan I was by going to seminary. He asked me what specifically made me Wesleyan. Most United Methodists would just smile and say isn't that great, he likes John Wesley. It was really the only question I received that morning that challenged me to think on a deeper level. What was it about Wesley that I really loved? For the next ten years Ed continued to ask questions that would push my thinking.

Ed Cook was not the most dynamic human whoever lived, but he was brilliant and had a beautiful sense of humor. Because he was so smart and soft spoken, he often seemed intimidating to many people, but I found him to be one of the most compassionate and caring individuals I ever met. Our relationship jumped to a new level when he lost his dog Chysa. I sent him an innocent e-mail saying I missed him at church and I was sorry that Chrysa died. It started a chain of e-mails that discussed many things including a theology of dogs. I realized the depth of his capacity to love through our conversations. It was the first time I had practiced pastoral care by e-mail.

During my last few years serving at East Heights, Ed became one of my closest friends. He loved to talk about process theology and his passion for the environment. I often consulted with him on my understanding of scripture, especially the meaning of Greek words. Ed was a life-long learner who never lost his hunger to grow. He often used language that others could not understand, but his patience as a teacher was unending. There are many lives who are changed because of his love of teaching.

I don't know why we became such good friends. Ed was closer to my parents age than my own. His background in medicine was foreign to my experience. I was responsible for contemporary worship and he could never get the organ loud enough, but our spirits were and always will be connected. One of his favorite quotes came from Gandhi, "Be the change you wish to see in the world." That is how he lived his life. That is the way I hope I can live mine. Ed, I miss you already. You have been one of my dearest friends. Don't phall down when you get to heaven!

Happy Birthday Dad

My Father turns 70 this Sunday. I tell you this because I am not always good at remembering his birthday. I typically don't forget my mother's because it is near Christmas and I remember my brother's because it is on the 13th of the month and as a child I longed for the day he celebrated on Friday the 13th. I probably forget my father's birthday the most because of the type of person he is. He is so unassuming, never drawing attention to himself. I don't know how many times I have forgotten to call or send a card and he never even reminds me. He makes it easy to forget that October 19th is a special day. This year I will not forget. Seventy is a big deal and we are making a point to celebrate a man who taught me everything I know about being a dad. I know that sounds cliche, but in this case it is also true. I am truly blessed in having a great father.

When I think of my dad I am reminded of something that happened in the sixth grade. My parents had been taking me to wrestling tournaments since I was eight years old. It wasn't just wrestling, but every activity I was involved in, they were always there. They weren't pushy parents trying to turn me into a star athlete (I was far from a star). They went because I wanted to participate and they wanted to be supportive. At this tournament I was doing well, in fact I was ahead of my opponent 13-3 when he did a stand-up. I performed a move to take him back to the mat that I had done hundreds of times before, except this time my arm got caught, my elbow locked and my forearm turned into a 45 degree angle. I knew immediately that my arm was broken, but in my mind I thought, "Do I keep wrestling or should I stop?" A moment later the pain hit and my decision was made for me. My father said he could hear the crack all the way up in the stands. It was then that he did an amazing thing. My dad jumped the rail in the bleachers and came running to the mat to be my side. He went with me to the hospital and stayed by my side until the arm was straightened and put in a cast. Maybe that is what any parent would do but as a child it was more than that. I knew that anytime I found myself in trouble or hurting, my dad would come running to be my side. It was a defining moment in my childhood and in our relationship.

I love you dad! I hope you have a great 70th birthday celebration.