Delivered at his Service of Thanksgiving, Friday 8th May
I still clearly remember the day in Timaru, back in our native New Zealand, the day Ben was born. On my way home from the hospital, where I’d earlier laid this not-so-small 9lb 7oz baby on my chest, I had to stop the car and weep as the enormity of it all swept over me. And now, here I am, weeping again, for my precious first born, for Ben.
But it’s been an amazing life. And I want to invite you for a few moments to imagine you’re walking with me around a gallery – a gallery with pictures on the wall, an exhibition. But in this case, they’re pictures, snapshots from Ben’s life.
As we come into the main exhibition hall, there’s one taken when we lived in Auckland. He was about three years old, and on a swing I’d made out of an old tyre, with his small friend Christopher.
“I’m on a rocket”, Ben is saying, “and I’m going to the moon, I’m flying fast”.
“No”, Christopher said, “you’re on a swing”.
Ben was always one with huge imagination and creativity – we’ve got paintings at home by him; he was a dreamer and visionary who saw and imagined things we don’t always see...you can see an example alongside here of a vision of eternity he tried to capture on paper some years ago (click on them to enlarge)
But then we move along the wall in the exhibition hall, and here’s a picture of Ben, Macbook on his lap, iPad next to him, iPhone alongside, the very same Ben who said to me in 2008 (with a twinkle in his eye) as I went off to buy a new laptop, “Dad, if you come back with anything except a Macbook, I’ll disown you”. It’s the same Ben who then had, as his first and only occupation after graduation, the job of a translator for a software firm in Brazil. He loved his technology, his gadgets. But also in the picture on the gallery wall, he’s showing someone else how to do something. Always there for others. But his techie passion did though get him into trouble at one point at his first secondary school, when he went a little further than he should have done, hacking into the school system, something that led gentle, ever kind Ben to be asked to leave. Everyone was shocked…! But Ben dealt with it, and we all learned to smile about it, and Ben then, before he was married (and with a real sense of repentance), sought to put it all right, I’m sure motivated by his love for Christ.
But then, as we move out of the main exhibition hall, we move up the stairs into the World Room, the international room. And there on the wall is a picture of Ben, passport in one hand, globe in the other. For those who knew him well, you can’t have met anyone who suffered from ‘wanderlust’ more than him! Always wanting to be somewhere new. His globe at home has red sticky dots all over it for the places he’d been, or even just stopped over, memorable trips being his 24hr jaunts to France with friends from Plymouth: numbers of times back to New Zealand, twice unaccompanied; a long camping road trip with me and Tom to Portugal. Then short one or two day visits to Ireland, to Germany, and to Spain with university friends, and of course his beloved Brazil with three extended visits before settling there.
But there, alongside that picture with the passport, is one with Ben holding a foreign phrase book. However, it seems he didn’t really need it too much. Maybe it all sprung from his unusual ability to speak backwards, (where he was able to completely reverse sentences he heard, letters included), but he discovered, as he was leaving school, a passion for languages. And maybe it was helped along by a certain young lady from Brazil he met on Twitter, but within a short time he was speaking Portuguese…and then Spanish. In fact, his love for languages turned him into a bit of a grammar-policeman at home, and saw him writing a letter to his grandfather in Latin. But the picture that’s right alongside side that one though is a wedding photo – there he is with beautiful Gabriela, the love of his life, his soul-mate, his precious Dabi, who in these last few weeks has always brought a broad smile to his face whenever she walked into his room at the Mardon Centre…Dabi, who’s now so badly hurting…and we just give you so much love, Dabi, for all the happiness and joy you brought him.
Then we come into the Memory Lane Room in the Gallery. And there’s a picture of Ben aged five, holding the end of a hose pipe up to his mouth. It was a day in Christchurch in 1996. From inside my study, I heard this young but firm, clear voice outside in the garden. And looking out, I saw Ben, speaking into the hosepipe as if it were a microphone, other hand gesturing towards the trees above, “You birds, you better believe in Jesus. He loves you. You need to say sorry for the wrong things you’ve done and follow him.”
At the time I had a combination of reactions such as ‘poor preacher’s kid’ and ‘how funny’, but since then, watching him grow and observing the man he became, with such a heart for God and a heart for mission, I realise that God was at work in him even back then preparing him for communicating the message of the cross, not to birds, but into foreign places.
But this picture is joined to another picture alongside it, and that picture is of Ben only three years ago…I’m standing next to him at his church in Plymouth, with a bible alongside him, and his hands raised high above his head in worship, expressing that passion for God, for Christ… passionate and praying for others to come to know his Saviour… working out that call that God had placed on his life, even from those many years before – even in his relatively short life – that call to make Jesus known. Only last year he sent me a long email, describing a dream he’d had of him straddling a wide river, standing tall over it, helping others across to the other side, helping others to know Christ. And I sense he’s kind of doing it again today as we remember his life.
But then the final picture, an actual photograph taken on a home visit just eight weeks ago, surrounded by all but one of his siblings, with Catherine and me. Ben who was so loved, respected and looked up to by Simeon, by Tom, by Josh, by Lydia – Ben who loved us, who resigned his job, his life in Brazil, and with Dabi at his side, came back here to be with us because of my health, not knowing he was coming home to die, coming home before he went to his greater and most perfect home. At home with Jesus.
For us, it’s the most heartbreaking pain, but paradoxically also a deep peace. He’s there where he longed sometime to be. Safely there all because of Jesus who said, “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live. And everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.”
I’m so thankful to Father for the gift of Benjy – my son, my friend and my brother in Christ.