Chuck Ryor

Dr. Roger Nicole, the man I consider primarily responsible for helping me develop my convictions about Christian theology, died yesterday.  The previous day he had celebrated his 95^th birthday.

Roger R. Nicole was native to Switzerland and long regarded as one of the preeminent theologians in America. He held an M.A. from Sorbonne, an S.T.M. and Th.D. from Gordon Divinity School, a Ph.D. from Harvard University, and a D.D. from Wheaton College.  You can read a thorough detailing of this remarkable life of ministry and scholarship on the Gospel Coalition’s website.

I was a student of Dr. Nicole’s at Reformed Theological Seminary in Orlando, Florida from 1991-1993.  When I enrolled at RTS I was not a Calvinist.  In fact, I was somewhat put off by most people from a Reformed perspective.  Even at seminary there were some cocky students who asked questions like “Are you Reformed?”  Just the way they asked the question sounded arrogant and snobby.  Some of the most obnoxious Christians I had ever met to that point were argumentative Calvinists.

In my first winter short class I was required to take the “Theological Foundations” class taught by Dr. Nicole.  There were a number of people like me in the class – Charismatic Protestants who were suspicious of  “Reformed” thinking.  However, watching Dr. Nicole navigate this dicey territory was a sight to see.  He disarmed the hostile Arminians in the room by showing respect for their disagreements and truly understanding their arguments more thoroughly than they did.  Conversely, Dr. Nicole understood the weaknesses of his position most clearly and humbly acknowledged them.

It was this demeanor that made me relax and finally start listening to the Seminary’s perspective on theology.  In the end, I credit my theological understanding of God’s grace not to the intellect of Roger Nicole, but rather to his character.  He was brilliant, spoke multiple languages fluently, and was considered the Dean of Reformed Theology in America by most in the know.  But it was his gentle, loving kindness that impressed my wife and me.  Even though I didn’t agree with him on a couple of tangent/secondary theological issues, he never made me feel like an idiot because I held a different position.  And believe you me, he could have.

My favorite Dr. Nicole story involves another professor of mine, Dr. R.C. Sproul.  Once, Dr. Sproul was teaching our Westminster Confession class and lecturing on the subject of “Paedo” or Infant Baptism (a position to which Sproul as a Presbyterian held firmly).  In the middle of the class, Dr. Nicole happened to walk through the back of the lecture hall and he and Dr. Sproul exchanged some friendly banter on the subject, as the two held opposing views.  When Dr. Nicole exited the room, R.C. looked at our class and remarked, “The fact that he disagrees with me on this subject gives me pause.”  Sproul is a genius.  However, even he was humbled in the presence of this gentle, theological giant.

Over the years I’ve become much less combative and argumentative, particularly about matters of faith.  Central to that ongoing change in my life is the memory of Dr. Roger Nicole’s treatment of people with whom he disagreed.  While he could clearly out-think his opponents, his winsome, graciousness made you want to understand what he thought.

I will never be mistaken for a genius, so I won’t waste one second dreaming that someone might ever say I resembled Roger Nicole intellectually.  But, in addition to hoping that I get to live until I’m 95-years-old, I pray that my family, friends, parishioners and students would say that they experienced some of Dr. Nicole’s Christ-like kindness through me.  Rest in peace, Dr. Nicole.  Thanks for your example.

“Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed.” – Mark 1:35

Over the course of my life I don’t believe anyone has ever labeled me as “contemplative.”  When I was a youth pastor, my Senior Pastor gave me a Eugene Peterson book entitled, “The Contemplative Pastor.” This was an apparent attempt to make me think about becoming one.  The tome only served to reinforce what most everyone – including myself – thought was true.  I’m not a solitude kind of guy.

Then came 2008-2009.  I left the comfort of my home and church in Florida to come west.  Thinking I was headed to California for one type of experience with Jesus, I actually headed into my life’s first crash and burn episode.  It was the perfect storm of mid-life crisis, distance from the security of friends, and a church situation completely above my pay-grade.  All these caused me to start taking a look inside myself as I never had before.

While I haven’t changed so much that anyone would call me a deep thinker or a mystic-monastic type, two years later I have begun to understand a little more about my need for solitude.  Ironically, I’ve spent the last month re-reading “The Contemplative Pastor.” I also re-read a book I obviously didn’t take to heart when I first received it back in 1989: “Out of Solitude” by the late Dr. Henri J. M. Nouwen.

I wanted to pass along something Pastor Nouwen wrote about “solitude” – defined as the time we quietly spend alone in the presence of God.  I suppose you could always buy the book yourself and enjoy some solitude, as it seems to encourage.  But, as long as you’re here, I thought you might enjoy this:

“In solitude we can slowly unmask the illusion of our possessiveness and discover in the center of our own self that we are not what we can conquer, but what is given to us.  In solitude we can listen to the voice of him who spoke to us before we could speak a word, who healed us before we could make any gesture to help, who set us free long before we could free others, and who loved us long before we could give love to anyone.  It is in this solitude that we discover that being is more important than having, and that we are worth more than the results of our efforts.  In solitude we discover that our life is not a possession to be defended, but a gift to be shared.  In solitude we become aware that our worth is not the same as our usefulness.”

I don’t know if the holidays provide you time “by yourself.”  Perhaps you find yourself surrounded by people and not able to achieve the solitude with God’s presence that your soul craves.  I know the feeling.  Maybe it has been too long (or never) since you’ve enjoyed time alone with the Father.  He’s not waiting for you to get more holy.  He’s not waiting for you to get serious.  He’s just waiting for you.  He desires to impart things to you that you will only get when spending time alone in the quiet with Him.

If not this month, why not resolve to enjoy the Lord’s presence as never before in 2011?  It is His gift to you.  “Immanuel” means “God is with us.”  Christmas is really all about us enjoying the gift of His presence.