The Days After the Race

Blue.
Red.
Democratic.
Republican.
McCain
Obama

No matter what your party affiliation, like me, you probably were proud of both candidates’ speeches and posture on election night. Their eloquence and humility represented the best of America. But more than the speeches something else changed this week domestically and globally. Did you sense it?

Why was the whole world elated? Why were so many different cultures and nations crying tears of joy and a new generation of young people energized? What gave hope in the midst of chaos and market meltdowns?

Many people who are of marginalized descent may know.

I was born in a multi-cultural home in Seoul. My father is of Irish-American descent and my mother of Korean heritage. Growing up, I really didn’t know I was a minority or somewhat of an outsider until I experienced racism and prejudice when I was in elementary school in Arizona. I heard people call me and my family “chinks”, laugh at my Korean mom’s accent or at her awkward social interactions, and later in university, located in the Bible Belt, I was told I couldn’t date Caucasian because I looked Asian (genetically I’m half. . . Koreans have strong genes!). All that to say, I’m not sure until you’re placed in a position of marginality or a freak that you can understand a person who lives in the margins. Sure we’ve all faced moments of prejudice but to be Black in some parts of the South or Latino in an exclusive part of Los Angeles can easily go beyond someone calling you a name

This week there was a domestic and global collective sense of amazement, dreams realized and hopes restored among many who feel marginalized or victimized because of color or class. You know how it is when you’re with someone of similar cultural descent, experience and heritage. . . you don’t have to say anything. . . they just feel you.. Without speaking a word, they relate to you. People who live in the margins of our world or understand classism, whether they’re White, Black, Brown or whatever, got it last night when a, a third culture native, became President-Elect. Many representing the margins and understanding the life of an outsider wept tears of joy not because of a party victory but because of the hope that an outsider can rise to a place of such influence and position. Sure many evangelicals may not understand why people from all the political parties are filled with hope and so emotionally moved. Part of the answer may be because Obama represents more than himself. He represents victims of historical oppression and prejudice both inside and outside of America. He represents multiple cultures and classes. Like when the walls of Berlin came down, the walls of racism and unilateralism were being destroyed the night of November 4, 2008. It wasn’t just about the election of a President. . . it was about a dream being fulfilled. The marginalized have a voice and a place. The election of our President-Elect let the world know that the American Dream is alive and well. And the dream of Martin Luther King Jr. is being realized.

one of the pioneers who intersected justice, race, the poor and culture.

Leighton Ford wrote shared this heartfelt eulogy for his friend and colleague, Irv Chambers. Leighton is still a mentor to me and Irv, as well. Irv was the man behind the scenes but was the stability, the glue, the quiet joy and strength that often is missed among leaders. I will miss his laughter, encouraging presence and words, and his compassion. He was a model of leadership that reminds me of the Holy Spirit and his role among the Trinity and the world. We will miss you, Irv but see you soon.

One of your "sons", dave

FOR IRV
In memory and in honor
September 8, 2008


He was a good man, full of the Holy Spirit and of faith, and a great many people were brought to the Lord. Acts 11:2

Therefore, my dear brothers, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourself fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain. 1 Corinthians 15:58

Today I need to begin by saying that I will need to ask Irv for his forgiveness, not for something I have done, but for something I about to do.

For I am going to talk about Irv, and Irv never wanted to talk about himself or to be the center of attention. He wanted today to be about Christ his Lord. And it will be. Because we cannot think about Irv without thinking about the Lord he served.

And we are here to remember and honor how we have seen Christ in Irv Chambers.

It was said of the ancient patriarchs – like Abraham and Job – that they died “full of years.” Irv would never have thought of himself as a patriarch. But he was “full of years.” He has left us just three months shy of his 80th birthday.

Today we join to honor him with his beloved wife Marilyn, Sheri and Susan, the daughters he adored, his fine sons-in-law, Hugh and Jason, and the grandsons that were the joy of his life, Andrew and Daniel, and his faithful brother David.

Irv has been my partner in ministry and my pal for fifty-two years. I remember so vividly the snowy night in Ontario when we first met. Jeanie and I were sitting at dinner at our small lakeside hotel in Orillia when Irv walked in, shook the snowflakes off his topcoat, put down his trumpet case, and came over to shake hands.

We had never met. A mutual friend had recommended him to me as music leader for a crusade, and Irv accepted sight unseen. For two weeks we led services in a staid old Presbyterian church. Irv played his sweet trumpet, drew the youth with his magic and humor, and put together a large choir including many single women who I am sure dreamed about this handsome and eligible bachelor who had come to town. He led our packed out services with aplomb and grace.

Neither of us imagined then that we were destined to work together in ministry for a half century. But a chemistry of the Spirit matched our gifts, drew our hearts together, and still does.

When I think of Irv I think of Paul and Barnabas, that early evangelistic team. Not that I am like Paul, but certainly Irv was like Barnabas- nicknamed the “son of encouragement.” Acts 11 tells us that Barnabas was sent to Antioch to check on the authenticity of the conversions there. When he arrived, and saw the evidence of the grace of God,

He was glad and encouraged them all to remain true to the Lord with all their hearts. He was a good man, full of the Holy Spirit and of faith, and a great number of people were brought to the Lord. (Acts 11:23-24)

Like Barnabas, Irv was “a good man” full not only of years, but “of the Holy Spirit and of faith.” Irv even went Barnabas one better. Paul and Barnabas at one point split over a disagreement. So far as I remember I never heard an angry word from Irv. Jeanie and I have often said we never heard anyone have anything bad to say about him. And we certainly never had a split.

And that was sin large part because Irv so beautifully reflected, in his life and in his loves, the image of Christ his Servant Lord.

There is an old Greek word –arete – which describes the excellence of any person or thing. Something is ”arête” when it perfectly fits the purpose for which it is made. A sword which is sharp is “arête.” A javelin which goes straight when it is thrown is “arête.” Irv’s greatest desire was to serve others, and for that he was “arete” – perfectly shaped – to be, like his Lord, one who came “not to be served, but to serve.”

One of the young men Irv influenced wrote a book about servant leadership. He titled it The Song of the Second Fiddle. The theme was that great leadership is seen not only in the well-known upfront leaders, but in those who back them up.

Irv didn’t play the fiddle. He was a trumpeter. And he played his trumpet with a sweetness that I will always remember, and played his life’s song with that same kind of sweetness and grace in everything.

He ministered with humility and humor. He was a ten-talent man, but he never thought of himself as primarily a student or preacher. He had a handful of sermons he preached again and again. One Sunday in Canada Irv was going out to preach at a church. One of our team asked what he was preaching about that morning and Irv replied, “Why Jesus Chose Judas.” When his teammate mused that that was an interesting choice for Mother’s Day, Irv was stumped just for a moment. “Mother’s Day!” he exclaimed. “Mother’s Day!” Then quick as a flash he said, “Well, even Judas had a mother!”

Irv was fun to be with. On my next to the last visit with him we were reminiscing about the ministry we had shared in dozens of cities, scores of countries, on every continent. “And we had so much fun, didn’t we?” I asked.

He whispered a word. I didn’t catch it so I leaned closer and said, “What?”

”Lethbridge,” I heard him say faintly. “Lethbridge” - a city on the Canadian prairies.


”What about Lethbridge?” I asked.

“Football.” I caught his reply.

“Where did we play football?”

“In the hall in the hotel.”

“What did we play with?”

“A roll of toilet paper,” he croaked, and I am sure I saw a little grin on his lips.

When Irv was a bachelor he liked the girls, and the girls liked him. Once he came in late in the evening and we spotted lipstick on the collar of his tan raincoat. Because he was color blind he had not seen it. We teased him unmercifully for a long time about that but always were sure he had good boundaries.

Then when he met the Girl – his beloved Marilyn – his eyes and heart were set forever - from the day he proposed to her (in typical Irv style while the offering was being collected at a crusade in Calgary)- to the day he married her with ten foot high snow drifts banking the church in Minneapolis- to the arrival of the two other girls – Sheri and Susan -whom he adored with all his heart and their husbands and children – they, along with his Lord, were the very center of his life.

Whenever we met for prayer and I asked Irv about his personal requests they were never about him, but always about others – and especially for his family. Sometimes I would get just the tiniest bit exasperated, and say, “But Irv, what about you?” And he would have to think hard for something to ask about himself.

Even when his body began to weaken, the servant heart stayed strong. One morning several years ago he fell out of a hammock in his yard, and could not pick himself up. Marilyn was out. And though he had a cell phone he didn’t use it to call. He simply waited for her to return. And while he was lying there his phone rang and he had a long conversation with a young pastor who called, needing some counsel and encouragement . He never knew Irv was lying on the ground the whole time talking to him.

There were a few times when I was able in turn to serve Irv in tangible ways. Once we were in Calcutta, India going to the airport to fly to Bangkok and on to Tokyo. Irv was miserably sick because of some food poisoning. I had to carry his bags and half carry him through the airport, check him in, when we arrived in Bangkok help him to lie down on the floor and find a doctor to give him some quick treatment, and watch over him all the way to Tokyo. It was a rare privilege to be able to minister to one who for all his life had served me in the high and low points of my own life, and had done the same for others.

When I exhort young leaders to be “kingdom seekers not empire builders” it is usually Irv that I have in mind.

Irv’s care for others came through clearly last week in the hospital. Just before he was moved to hospice care we had a brief visit. His eyes were open, and I knew he could listen and respond a bit. I talked about the years we had shared, the crowds we had appeared before, the many who had given their lives to Christ.

“Tell some stories,” he whispered. “Personal.”

“About people whose lives were changed?” I asked.

He nodded.

So I thought quickly and told some stories about changed lives – rowdy high school students in northeast Philadelphia, punk rockers in Southampton, England, an atheist in Vancouver, a student body president in Wellington, New Zealand.

He listened. Took it in. It was the persons, not the crowds, that he wanted to hear about.

“Some day,” I said, “we will sing All Hail the Power of Jesus’ Name with all of them in heaven.”

He paused. Then breathed, “Need to make reservations.”

“Make reservations? For everyone?” I asked.

“Everyone makes their own ,” he replied.

“You made yours a long time ago, didn’t you?”

“I sure did.” His answer was low. But sure.

“I sure did.”

And I am sure today he would want to say: be sure you have made your reservation – that you have given your life to the Lord he knew and loved and served.

It was written of Barnabas that “he encouraged them all to remain true to the Lord with all their hearts” (Acts 11:23).

Irv did that. And he wants us to remain true – you, his family, his friends, his neighbors.

When Paul finished his great chapter on the resurrection (1 Corinthians 15), about the new bodies believers will have, about how we will be changed and put on immortality, how did he conclude? Not by saying, “Because Christ died for us and was raised we can go to heaven.” That’s true. But instead he concluded

Therefore, my dear brothers, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain. (1 Corinthians 15:58)

Irv not only believed that. Irv lived that.

On one of my last visits, when he seemed to be totally out of it, Marilyn and I heard him faintly singing. I leaned close and heard him sing, over and over,

“Let me sing on … let me sing on.”

Yes, Irv. You will sing on.

The last thing he said to me was, “”Let’s take a walk on the grounds.”

What grounds did he mean? I am not quite sure.

But I think he must have had in mind that lovely garden of God, in the new Jerusalem, when heaven and earth are one, and all things are restored to their eternal rightness. All will be “arete” – fulfilling God’s great purpose.

And so I want to say: we will, dear husband, father, grandfather, brother, friend, servant of the Lord, my pal.

We will walk those grounds together.

Leighton Ford