On this All-Saints Day 2016, I’ve been thinking about one
particular saint that continues to inspire me.
His name is Ambrose Harris. I had
the great privilege of being Ambrose’s pastor for the last eight years of his
life on this earth. Ambrose was one of
the few senior adults in the first church I served as pastor. He and Dorothy were a treasure to the whole
church.
My kids loved Ambrose.
He was their kindergarten Sunday School teacher. He let me bring my kids to fish in the pond on
his property, and he always found some excuse to come down to the pond and
spend a little time with us. He had a
way of getting down on a child’s level and making a child feel valued and
loved. And his rich sense of humor made
him all the more charming to children and adults alike. He once told his grandkids on a walk in the
woods that they needed to keep their eyes on the path because sometimes you
could find money on that path. And they
did find money on that path … because Ambrose was up ahead dropping it on the
ground.
He was also a man of great integrity. Integrity comes from the word integer or “one.” Ambrose was “one”—the exact same person in
whatever venue he happened to be. He’s
the guy who would return change if a clerk accidentally gave him too much.
Ambrose was a man of simplicity. He did pretty well financially in the
furniture business but always lived a simple life—never felt the need to adjust
his lifestyle to his income. This meant
he always had more money to give away.
Ambrose’s last year or so was spent suffering with colon
cancer. But you know, it didn’t change
him a lick—didn’t diminish his faith, didn’t squelch his sense of humor, didn’t
isolate him from others. By being his
pastor through that ordeal, I learned from him how a Christian is supposed to
face things like that. And when he died,
while we wept on earth, I swear I could hear joy and laughter in the
heavens. A lot of folks there were glad
to get him home.
A young mother in our congregation decided to make a
contribution to the American Cancer Society in Ambrose’s memory. So she asked her young son (who knew and
loved Ambrose), “How much do you think we ought to give?” “About a million dollars,” he said.
There’s this line in the hymn, Holy, Holy, Holy. It is addressed
to God and goes like this:
Holy, holy, holy, all the saints adore Thee.
On this All Saints Day I just want to go on record that I
adored a saint named Ambrose Harris. And
I look forward to renewing our friendship someday in heaven.
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