Many of his disciples, when they heard it, said, "This is a hard saying; who can listen to it?" But Jesus, knowing in himself that his disciples murmured at it, said to them, "Do you take offense at this? Then what if you were to see the Son of man ascending where he was before? It is the spirit that gives life, the flesh is of no avail; the words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life. But there are some of you that do not believe." For Jesus knew from the first who those were that did not believe, and who it was that would betray him. And he said, "This is why I told you that no one can come to me unless it is granted him by the Father." After this many of his disciples drew back and no longer went about with him. Jesus said to the twelve, "Do you also wish to go away?" Simon Peter answered him, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life; and we have believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God." John 6:60–69 (RSV)
Martin was one of the interns I supervised over the years. I had some good interns, but Martin was unique. God had blessed him with gifts and talents, which he used well. I would tease him, "When I grow up, I want to be a pastor like you, Martin." He was a good friend.
Martin invited me to participate in his ordination, which I was glad to do. I was especially pleased when he began serving Trinity Lutheran at Malcom, IA. Malcom was not that far from my parish, so Martin and I often talked on the phone and got together when we could.
I called him on Saturday, April 30, 1994, to set up a golf outing. I needed a day away from the parish, and Martin agreed a round of golf would do us good. We set Monday, May 2, and promised we wouldn't worry too much about the score.
Sunday noon, as I walked into the kitchen, Jackie met me at the door, "Martin died this morning." My knees nearly buckled as if someone had struck a blow against me. I wept, refusing to comprehend what I had just heard. As I called Martin's wife, Doris, I was praying that it was a mistake. Martin could be ill, but not dead. I had talked to him less than twenty-four hours ago. We were playing golf on Monday.
An undiagnosed aortic aneurism had burst as Martin was preparing for Sunday worship. My friend was gone in less time than it takes to write these words. At forty-one years, my friend was gone, Doris had become a widow, Kimberly and Matthew had lost their Dad.
Martin requested that John 6.60-69 be read at his ordination. I read this lesson at his funeral. "Lord, to whom shall we go?" was the question in my heart that day. My friend has died far too soon. I am lost in sorrow. Jesus, where can I go to find hope?
Martin chose this passage from John's Gospel for his ordination for the promise it offered. Yes, Peter's question by itself could sound hopeless. But Peter confessed what he had learned from his time with Jesus. Peter knew that no one else had the words of eternal life, who is eternal life. Jesus is the long-promised Savior, the Son of God.
Martin's faith was in those words of Peter. Jesus was his Lord in whom he trusted. I know it was the faith Martin proclaimed as an intern, then as a pastor of Christ's Church. I cling to that faith, for Jesus is the only One to whom we can go.
Twenty-six years have come and gone since my friend fell asleep in the Lord. I still miss him. I cannot read John 6.60-69 without sadness in my heart. But I also cannot read it without the hope that Peter confessed, that Martin confessed, that I still confess. Martin will greet me in the Kingdom. Thanks be to God that this is so.