Maria lived through the Nazi occupation of Holland. At one point, at 11 years of age, she pushed her pram down a road lined with soldiers, transporting a forbidden radio hidden under her dolly. Imagine it. Suddenly, I have this inner stirring to be a movie director. That is not all. Her family hid two Jewish boys in their home. They remained hidden right until the end when, remarkably, they were reunited with their parents.
Eventually, Maria immigrated to New Zealand—marrying a man she met on the boat sailing out here.
With this blog, right from the beginning, I decided not to subject the reader to sermonic material. However, on occasion, I have posted my tribute/message given at a funeral.
I want to honour people who have shaped my life!
This past week I had the privilege of saying a few words at Maria’s funeral. Here is a slightly expanded version of what I shared with those who gathered.
“My name is Paul. My wife, Barby, and I brought our family of five children to live in the Mt Roskill area 25 years ago. Our children went to local schools, with at least two of them having Rietta [Maria’s daughter] as a teacher, one of them having her twice. We came to this church as a family…
There was an ‘open prayer’ time in the services.
It soon became a family tradition to wait for Mrs Lethbridge to rise to her feet.
When she did, we were full of anticipation.
A quiet twitter went down our row.
Here is how one of our children remembers those times (written yesterday):
She never went first but she always prayed.
with so much respectful loving expression,
like she was coming humbly to God in prayer.
Definitely made it feel like you were entering into prayer with her.
Those words are so true.
In the years since I’ve often asked “why?”
Why did Maria’s praying impact me so much?
At one level, there was a bit of prophet and priest going on.
With passion, eloquence, desperation, tenderness.
One minute she’d plead with God to wake up and go to work in his world
—and she’d take us across the world in a single prayer.
[NB: With her Dutch heritage/WW2 experience, I can only imagine her Ukraine prayers!]
on our behalf, for our failings and idolatries.
She had this way of finding the words that I couldn’t find myself
& it ministered so much to me to pray with her
At another level, here was I, working at a theological college during the week.
But on Sundays, Mrs Lethbridge was teaching me about God and about how to pray.
She embodied the mercy and justice of God
in what she said and how she said it.
In her prayers, I glimpsed the grace and truth of Christ
She could rage a bit, confess a lot—and always be appealing.
It was huge for me—and to think my children spent their teenage years listening to her.
Maria had a tendency to slip away quickly after the worship service
It has been so easy to bring to mind those twinkling eyes, the expansive smile
& even the waving finger in my face, when something big was on her mind!
I’m so grateful to Rietta and the family for the opportunity
to bear witness today to the way your mother influenced me and my family.
One more thing — our youngest, Joseph, once had a major project at school.
He needed to interview someone much older, and write up their story.
Yes, you guessed right!
He made a bee-line for Mrs Lethbridge and she drew him, graciously, into her life
—but that is a story for others to share this morning…“
About Me
the art of unpacking
After a childhood in India, a theological training in the USA and a pastoral ministry in Southland (New Zealand), I spent twenty years in theological education in New Zealand — first at Laidlaw College and then at Carey Baptist College, where I served as principal. In 2009 I began working with Langham Partnership and since 2013 I have been the Programme Director (Langham Preaching). Through it all I've cherished the experience of the 'gracious hand of God upon me' and I've relished the opportunity to 'unpack', or exegete, all that I encounter in my walk through life with Jesus.
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As we say in my tradition, "Rest eternal grant unto her O Lord, and let light perpetual shine upon her. May she rest in peace and rise in glory. Amen."
Ahh, Fred — that is a classic story. Just love it. She took you right to the edge of truth/untruth, but did not cross it. It will keep a smile on my face all week.
And when you say "my tradition", it always causes me to pause and ask myself "Now about which of his traditions is he speaking here?" That will always put a smile on my face as well. 🙂 🙂
Clue: Well, it didn't come from my early Pentecostal roots 🙂