Christians Never Say Goodbye

I haven't updated for some time, but thought I would do a special update in honor of a man who was a good friend, a mentor, and a teacher.

Chris Kimball passed away in his sleep this past Tuesday, March 10th, at the age of 56. I took guitar lessons from Chris from the age of 10 until the age of 15, and learned from him every tool needed to continue to grow and learn as a guitarist and a musician. Chris and his wife, Jay Lynne, were some of the first family friends that we made when we moved to Seattle from New Mexico in 1991, so I have known him since I was seven years old.

Before I ever even showed an interest in guitar, Chris had shown an interest in me. When he found out that I liked Star Trek and was interested in outer space, he invited me over to his house to watch the movie Space Camp, and he made me his "world famous" grilled-cheese sandwiches. At church campouts he would take me out on his boat with the other kids to go tubing, and he would always have a guitar waiting back at the campsite. A favorite song I'll always remember was his rendition of "Whale of A Tale". Chris was an absolutely amazing guitarist, and truly lived his life doing what he loved. At times in our lessions I can remember simply laughing in disbelief as he would make his guitar do incredible things.

Every hour I spent with Chris was much more than a guitar lession. Many, many times we would not even pick up our guitars, but would instead talk about things like confidence, or education, or girls, or whatever else might be beneficial for me to learn and ponder. If Chris had a sarcastic, rough exterior (and he did), then he had an equally sober and kind spirit which would light a twinkle in his eye whenever he spoke to me about the Lord or about the things he had learned over the course of his life. Chris was always extremely open about his past, about the things that he had seen and done and learned from, and he used our time together to impart wisdom just as much as music.

Chris and Jay Lynne moved to Wenatchee in 2001 and I stopped taking lessons. I only saw him once more -- at a Summer Safari in 2002 -- which is a fact that I now deeply regret. How hard would it have been to drive out to Wenatchee for one weekend? In hindsight there are many things that I want to tell Chris but I never did. How I would have enjoyed spending the day with him, years removed from my adolescence, able to discuss life and music and joy and girls! But that day now cannot come; at least not in this life.

This week has been a good time for me to reflect upon what the gospel of Jesus Christ offers you and I today. This life will end. And yet Jesus says a shocking, almost nonsensical thing to Martha in John 11, after her brother Lazarus has been dead for three days. He says, "I am the resurrection and the life; he who believes in Me will live even if he dies, and everyone who lives and believes in Me will never die. Do you believe this?"

That's a good question, Jesus. Do you? Do I? Is it true that Chris is alive today even though he is dead? If this is not true then I ought to grieve the loss of an old friend and mentor, for there is no hope of ever being reunited. And yet I know that Chris is now merely asleep in Christ, as Paul says in 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18. One day he will awake.

I know this has been a bit of a long post, but I'll finish up by sharing a passage from a book called A Severe Mercy, by Sheldon Vanauken, in which the author recounts the last time he saw his friend C.S. Lewis. I have not read the book myself, I should admit, but ever since hearing about this passage in a sermon many years ago I have not been able to forget it, and so will share it here:

“On that last day I met C.S. Lewis at the Eastgate for lunch. We talked, I recall, about death or, rather, awakening after death... I said it would be a sort of coming home, and he agreed. Lewis said that he hoped Davy and I would be coming back to England soon, for we mustn’t get out of touch. ‘At all events,’ he said with a cheerful grin, “We’ll certainly meet again, here - or there.’ Then it was time to go...

"When we emerged onto the busy High with the traffic streaming past, we shook hands, and he said, ‘I shan’t say goodbye. We’ll meet again.’ Then he plunged into the traffic. I stood there watching him. When he reached the pavement on the other side, he turned round as though he knew somehow that I would still be there in front of the Eastgate. Then he raised his voice in a great roar that easily overcame the noise of the cars and buses. Heads turned and at least one car swerved. ‘Besides,’ he bellowed with a great grin, ‘Christians NEVER say goodbye!’"