Dear Partners in Perspective,

This past week was the funeral for my cousin, Bill Paulson, the eldest son of my father’s eldest sister. He was the first of my family's cousins, on either side, to pass away, and while it has been many years since the cousins last gathered, I am amazed at how the loss brings old memories freshly to mind.

Bill was an unusual character. In the mid-1960’s he took the “vow of the Nazarite,” referenced in Numbers chapter 6. While it may or may not have had something to do with his successful conscientious objector draft status during the Vietnam War, it remained a centerpiece of his life choices for the remainder of his days—a vow which included avoiding strong drink and not cutting his hair. If you met Bill on the street, you might assume he was an aging hippie, a description aided by his fashion choice to dress in black and wear a modified Cadillac hood-ornament as a belt buckle. He also frequently carried a walking stick, which gave him an incongruous gentlemanly appearance. Bill married Mary, who was the daughter of my mother’s brother’s childhood best friend, a connection of raw serendipity that wasn’t recognized until their wedding day. They had two children who have long since grown and started families of their own.

My memories of Bill include working two summers of corn detasseling on a farm north of Blair, Nebraska, Bill’s hometown. But chief among the memories of my elder cousin were conversations about scripture and theology.

A self-taught scholar of Biblical Hebrew and Greek, Bill’s own theological understanding was a wonderful blend of the radical monotheism of the Church of God of the Abrahamic Faith, a small denomination in which my father had been raised, and Seventh Day Adventist observance. Bill passionately dedicated his life to a deep understanding of the scriptures and the history of Christian Millennialism, but his theological library included a broad swath of eighteenth and nineteenth century pastors, theologians and thinkers. Whenever we visited, he was always up for intricate disputations in which he would point out what he perceived to be the limitations of my own Calvinism.

I’m musing today about my cousin Bill because of these conversations. Bill’s theological apologetics were never expressed to seek our agreement; his goal was neither to convince me of my error nor to tout the superiority of his convictions. Bill engaged to increase his, and my, understanding of what we believed, both our commonalities and divergences. It is the rare scholar who is more interested in finding truth than being right. Bill’s death has given me an opportunity to muse over the auld lang syne of these conversations shared long ago.

Sharing an occasion to remember the important, not the familiar, I remain,

With Love,
Jonathan Krogh
Your Pastor