DEAR FRIENDS IN CHRIST:

Is there anything more wonderful than a gift? I love gifts…don't you?

• Last Wednesday I arrived home—found a gift—of asparagus! I really don't' like asparagus—but the gift made me happy!
• Last Sunday was Mother's Day. On Saturday, Maren and I shopped—Sunday morning we gave a gift of jewelry—it made us happy to give! In fact, at our house we love gifts so much that we now have celebration breakfasts—not dinners—because we can't wait that long!

Paul writes with eloquence about gifts. Gifts of the spirit he calls them. They are not physical gifts or things—they are not gold, and frankincense or myrrh; rather they are talents, special characteristics and strengths—given in different measure and combination. All of them gifts!

Jim Holloway was a person of gifts; many gifts, immense gifts. Gifts in full measure. Gifts so large they strain and exceed our capacity to fully capture and adequately describe:

For starters, there is the gift of music—music not as talent, music not as skill, music not as acquired taste or task—no, for Jim music was a gift—a gift of the spirit!

So when Jim played we all sensed that the music came not from his hands and head, but from his heart and soul! And because it did, Jim's music spoke to us, reached out to us, touched us—and reminded us always of the larger timber and theme that enables the real artist to touch our hearts and alter our experience.

Jim came to this Lutheran place from the south, with wonderful Baptist roots, and, given his journey, his repertoire spanned the music library—from spiritual and blues, to jazz and classical and, yes good old Lutheran hymns—and those, too, with a touch of soul!

Jim was not only musician, he was also a poet, and his gift for verbal—as well as musical—expression was rare and priceless. And like his music, Jim spoke from the heart!—with a depth and richness and delight that transformed routine conversation into intellectual adventure.

None of us who heard will ever forget Jim's chapel homily on February 25th, the day after Monica died. He spoke that day of journey of the magi, and he concluded with this appellation:

We in the university must bring our gifts: scholarship and faith, questions and vision, disagreements and dialogue, confusion and wonderment, patience and humility. The gifts have a place at the foot of the crèche and in the shadow of the Cross. As God did not reject their curious gifts, may we too pray that the learned, the delicate, the forgotten and those who died young shall not be forgotten at the Throne of God, when the simple come into their kingdom.

May God grant us kneeling place in that same straw.

But Jim Holloway was not simply gifted, HE WAS A GIFT! And day after day he poured himself into life and into his vocation, and he did so on God's behalf and for our benefit!

On Monday, Nancy and Dennis, Davis Robbins, and Jim came to my office. We met to discuss next academic year—music plans for chapel and university congregation. It is vintage Jim. All things were possible—if we need new music, I will find it; if we need more musicians, we can recruit them! If you need 35 trumpets for Easter—why not 38? He filled us all that day with possibility....and when it was over, Jim stayed behind because he wanted to talk about his concern for a particular student.

Wednesday night, Jim's last full day on campus, he left campus after midnight, because following the Requiem, he found himself with a student in need...

It was vintage Jim! Focused on students, concerned about others, sacrificing himself, and precious time with family—taking care of us, building this community, enabling and encouraging the music of our individual lives!

And what, I ask, can be the course and the well spring of water that runs so deep, so strong, so clear, and that we find so refreshing? What enables one so gifted and so generous to keep on giving—giving day after day, rehearsal after rehearsal, lesson after lesson, song after song?

And the answer, of course, is the ultimate gift of God's love. The gift of God's love incarnate in Jesus Christ—who walked this earth, who himself fell to violent death, and who rose on Easter morning. It is the love of God and promise of life that he extends and offers to each of us. It is the love and promise that Jim Holloway claimed for himself—and because he did, Jim became a messenger of love and care and promise and possibility for all who passed near by. Jim's lamp, it seems, was always burning, his battery was always charged, purpose was always clear. His mission was always calling his journey incomplete... he was truly gifted... and so he was a gift!

Thank you God for sharing the gift of Jim with us; and thank you, Jim, for sharing with us the gifts of God!

I love gifts!