THE BLESSED CERTAINTY OF DR. WILKEY [F, 10-6-23]

CHRIST IN WINTER: Reflections on Faith & Life for the Years of Winter— THE BLESSED CERTAINTY OF DR. WILKEY [F, 10-6-23]

 

When his Aunt Mary died, my late, great friend, The Rev. Dr. John Conrad Wilkey, arranged, with his brother Larry, for a grave stone for her. Larry did everything but the marker. He left that to the preacher. Who got it wrong. He had 1995 engraved on her stone as her death year, when it was actually 1994. Dr. Wilkey said that everybody in the family reminded him of that mistake every Memorial Day. But what could be wrong with giving Aunt Mary an extra year of life?

I felt that when another late, great friend, The Rev. Dr. William Luther White, died, three days short of his 85^th birthday. All the obits said he was 84. They cheated him out of 362 days.

For many years I called Dr. Wilkey and Dr. White by first names, John and Bill. That continued with Bill. We had known each other since we were boys. But Dr. Wilkey and I did graduate work together, including reading a total of 13 volumes of Karl Barth’s Church Dogmatics. [Dr. Wilkey read 12 of them.] We were so relieved when we finished and were able to call ourselves “Dr.”

But we were also very humble.  We couldn’t go strutting around telling others to call us “Dr.”  So I called myself John; Dr. Wilkey called me Dr. McFarland. He called himself John; I called him Dr. Wilkey. Our way of bragging about our degrees without letting anyone else hear. I miss Dr. Wilkey. For a lot of reasons. But, yes, because no one calls me “Dr.” anymore. [Sounds like the title of a country song.]

Dr. Wilkey remained true to Barth’s neo-orthodox theology. In his sermons and funeral homilies and newsletter columns, he used very traditional language and theological images. Dr. Wilkey and I had the same commitments to Christ and the church, one of the reasons we were such good friends, but we used very different languages and images in our talk about those commitments.

In funerals, I was not afraid of dealing with all the negative emotions that arise at the time of death, particularly the doubts, by admitting my own doubts. I used modern language and told stories. I did not tell people what to believe. I just shared in their grief and hopes.

Now that I am old, and I read his published funeral homilies, I think what a comfort Dr. Wilkey must have been to the folks who heard him as they mourned a loved one. Dr. Wilkey dealt with those doubts at the time of death by stating, with authority, with certainty, that that there is a heaven, because of the resurrection of Christ, by whom we are saved, that God is love, and love conquers death.

Dr. Wilkey and I both had reputations for doing funerals well. I shared in people’s doubts. Dr. Wilkey shared in their faiths.

I have no reservations about the ways I dealt with death when I pastored, by facing the reality of doubt, but as I contemplate my own death, I am comforted by the sure certainties of my dear friend, Dr. Wilkey.

John Robert McFarland