Teacher, friend

Many decades ago I had the opportunity to hike to the top of Yosemite Falls with six or so fellow Point Loma Nazarene University students. We were accompanied by one of our teachers, a scholar, and professor of Biblical Theology and Greek. The hike up was strenuous (roughly 2,500 feet in 3.8 miles) and I recall wondering how the "old man" would fare. Most of us were in our early to mid-twenties, the professor around 47. He not only kept up with us, but he also addressed various theological points of discussion along the way. The hike became a walking seminar.

As students, many of us were aware of his impressive academic credentials (Princeton Theological Seminary, a Ph.D. from the University of Edinburgh, Scotland, and post-graduate work at Claremont). We knew he was a published author and had contributed to the New American Standard Bible translation, facts which elevated him to a rarefied status in the theology department. Beyond his education, though, what impressed many of us was the way he respected our questions because he had also worked through most of them in an earlier, similar season of life. As the decades progressed, former students, myself included, would meet up every few years to catch up, reminisce and ply him, as we did on the hike, with questions ranging from the simple to the complex.

​Along with many others, I've been thinking about Dr. Frank Carver these past few days, since word spread of his passing on July 14. I've been reflecting on the impact he had on those of us who knew him first as a scholar and teacher and, later, as a friend. I recall his message the morning after the hike when we gathered to hear him teach. He spoke of the rigors of the walk, the sweat and strain prior to the reward at the top of the falls high above the Valley floor. How he spoke of the hike reflected his understanding of the Christian life: "If you desire the exceptional view you must be willing to pay the exceptional price."

Yes. Thank you, Frank.