- Matt Friedeman reflects on the death of a mentor and friend, who, true to his gifts and graces, died in the Congo and true to his missionary calling.
I woke Friday morning to news of the death of one of my early mentors. When I was a student at Asbury Theological Seminary, Paul Law invested significantly in my life as part of a small group discipleship program.
Robert Coleman, then a professor at Asbury Seminary, had written the seminal book on the topic of discipleship: The Master Plan of Evangelism, which has been translated into over 100 languages and sold millions of copies. Christianity Today included it as one of the top 50 books that have shaped evangelicals. Coleman describes Jesus’ strategy of gathering a small band of disciples through whom He changed the world. Through His teaching, His presence, and His actions, He relayed the content of the Kingdom and of His character to those few. In turn, they communicated those truths to others. And that process has continued across millennia until it has reached you and me.
Paul Law took these lessons from the life of Jesus to heart and spent several years pouring his life in Christ into willing seminarians. He gathered small groups of people who were earnest in their commitment to the Lord and helped them cultivate a strong devotional life, ministry skills, and most importantly a deep devotion to Jesus. I was invited to join one of those groups. We studied Scripture together, regularly shared meals, and traveled with him to nearby speaking engagements.
And in my case, I lived with his family. Paul traveled often to speak at churches and conferences and wanted a male presence available to his family in his absence. He chose me for that role. I moved into their home, coming and going as my seminary schedule dictated, and tried to provide help and support in case of emergency for his wife and three young kids. But I was also there quite a bit when Paul was home, and thereby learned a lot from him about how to conduct oneself as a Christian man, husband, and father.
And what a man Paul he was! He had grown up as a missionary kid in the Congo, where his father was eventually martyred. His mother wrote a very compelling book about the family’s life and ministry in Africa. His experiences in Congo deeply impacted Paul.
Once while I was living with them, an interesting incident came up during conversation around the dinner table. When Paul’s wife Marty was a student at Asbury College a few decades prior, Pat Riley — who later became one of the most famous NCAA and NBA players and eventually a Hall of Fame coach— had driven over to the College from the University of Kentucky, looking for attractive women. He approached Marty. Marty rebuffed him. Simple as that. No big deal. Story over.
When I heard that story, I decided to go into teasing mode in my own clumsy way. “Marty – wow! – you could have dated and maybe married one of the most talented and famous and wealthy men in the world and you just said, ‘No’?”
Marty didn’t flinch and didn’t even attempt a smile. “No,” she said. “I decided to marry a man with real talent.” I felt like I was about to be put in my place.
“My man can plant a crop and harvest it and make money on it in the most difficult of times. My man could fix any engine that broke down in our work. My man can fly supplies and medicines into places where few white men on the planet dare to go. I married the only white man in the world that knows certain dialects of multiple African languages and can converse comfortably in those tongues. My man also knows Greek and Hebrew and has studied his Bible inductively inside and out. And, my man can preach the gospel persuasively so that men and women, boys and girls will run down to the altar to respond to God’s message through him. No, when I wanted to marry someone I decided to marry someone with…real talent.”
I forget, but I think I probably coughed and excused myself to the bathroom at that point.
The greatest thing this disciple of Paul Law learned from him, perhaps, is the meaning of real talent. It’s not flipping a ball into a net or teaching others how to do the same and anything like that. It is amassing, over a lifetime, a skillset that can be helpful to the fulfillment of the Great Commission and obedience to the Great Commandments through your life — and then using those talents to build God’s Kingdom.
One more thing – real talent stays busy for Jesus to the end. My friend, true to his gifts and graces, died in the Congo and true to his missionary calling.
Paul Law is gone from planet Earth. R.I.P.
Matt Friedeman
