eulogy: in memory of Dr. David Plaster
I was mentored by Dr. Dave Plaster from the fall of 2007 until the present. Our last meeting was in early January of this year. During my time as a student at Grace College we met most every week. He was also my ‘boss’ when I worked as an office assistant in the academic office during my sophomore year. When he became head pastor of the Polaris Grace Brethren Church he also became my pastor. From our earliest interaction he was always my teacher, friend, mentor, and spiritual father.
We began meeting sometime during my freshman year. I don’t remember the circumstances of the first meeting, whether it was his initiation or my own (I vaguely recall the former). But however our relationship began, I am grateful for it. College is a pivotal time for many; those are the first years of living away from home and the traditional time for making choices regarding marriage and career. Spiritually this is also a time of soul-searching and reevaluation, when theological inheritance is either embraced or scuttled. For me it was all of those things and more. In the midst of this tumult of personal change, Dr. Plaster provided encouragement, council, theological insight and emotional support. His influence helped me navigate through so many choices and challenges that to merely list these would be a sizable task. Among them would be the standard trials and triumphs of college relationships and academic miscellany. But the list would further extend to problems with habitual sin, institutional disenfranchisement, and spiritual doubt. In all of these circumstances I can’t recall a single instance when his advice failed me, either in sorting out the right decision to be made or in providing the perspective and encouragement needed to carry on.
Dr. Plaster’s encouragement shaped me into the man I am today. When I was deciding whether or not to study abroad at Oxford he encouraged me to apply, wrote a recommendation letter, and then helped me decide on the subjects I would study. I decided to study philosophy of religion, largely because of the questions that arose out of my theological education under Plaster (inter alia) during my undergraduate years at Grace College. Later, Dr. Plaster would be pivotal in my decision to apply to study philosophy of religion at Oxford. This effectively launched my interest in philosophy, an interest that has flowered into an (very young) academic career. But none of this would have occurred had it not been for Plaster’s nudging me toward academia and the ways he encouraged my intellectual pursuits.
When I reflect on this fact it highlights one of the most amazing things about Dr. Plaster. Even though he was part of a theological and sociological context that often decried the errors of abstruse scholasticism, which considered a career in academic philosophy at best a waste of time and at worst a surefire indication of ‘liberalism’ and heterodox theology, these things did not prevent him from encouraging my engagement with these issues. In this way Dave Plaster was able to align himself with conservative theology and morality without succumbing to the fear of heresy and intellectual browbeating often associated with conservative positions. This combination made Dr. Plaster a rare gem in that he was able to defend his convictions while not succumbing to the pressure to alienate opposition. And this is a testament both to his spiritual maturity as well as his razor sharp intelligence.
But the intellectual and academic influence of Dave Plaster is but a small slice of his impact. These areas are more difficult to communicate; suffice to say that in my darkest of times, when I was burdened by profound personal hardship, I found myself walking toward his office for help. The quintessential example occurred during a stretch of time during which my mother fell victim to cancer, a horror that was quickly followed by the near fatal illness of a close friend. In those months, as I grappled with senseless evil, as I felt the tremendous loss of my mother, I became embittered toward some of my fellow Christians, spurning most especially those who offered mere platitudes in lieu of substantial comfort. Precious few were able to sit with me and face down the evil without resorting to flippancy. Dr. Plaster was among those few. This is one of the things I respected most about him; he did not multiply words offering explanations for what are inexplicable and irreconcilable events, he did not try and ease my pain. Rather, in conversation and in prayer, he felt my pain along with me. How many men are strong enough to do that?
Now as I reflect on the loss of Dr. David Plaster, a loss felt by a teeming host of family, friends, coworkers, students, and parishioners, I am reminded of the sting only the most significant losses engender. And I am also reminded of the ways he helped me in my own loss. Thus I will not attempt to end this on some lofty triumphant note about Dr. Plaster’s place among the heavenly host. It is my hopeful belief that those things are true, but they do nothing to fill the hole death leaves behind. The sudden, untimely death of a man so wise and good, a man with so much more left to give, a man more than deserving of a long, healthy and fruitful life, is surely among the worst evils. So I say only this: I lament his death, I lament our loss, and I miss him dearly.
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