Since I've been home again, I've been gathering together all the cards, letters, emails, and even Facebook messages that were sent in the period around Bob's passing. I cherish all of these beautiful expressions of love and tribute and want to preserve them for our family. I'd like to complete this task before leaving once again for a couple of weeks. On Monday I will be flying to western New York to spend a week with David, Ann and the boys, followed by a week in Regina with Barbie, Tim, Kim and their four--where we will celebrate Thanksgiving together!!
One of the most special tributes was written in the form of a very personal eulogy by our son David. It was read at Bob's Memorial Service, but since many were not able to attend the service, I decided to post in on the blog so more could read it.
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Eulogy for Bob Rose, written by David Rose
A little over one month ago, Dad's health deteriorated quickly, and he entered the hospital. After a couple of days there, he seemed near death. A steady stream of visitors came through to say their good-byes. He sprang back to life on a Sunday afternoon though, and experienced the following vision. He described a large field in a valley with tall grass. There were different kinds of animals grazing in the field - sheep, deer and others. A gentle wind brushed over the grass. The animals all lifted their heads together, looking in one direction. Dad faltered a bit at this point, clearly not able to express what he saw or felt. I was with him, and remarked that he was sounding a little like C.S. Lewis. Dad smiled, and said, "Yes...but I don't yet feel, as Lewis said in “The Last Battle”, (which alludes to the redemption of Narnia).... that the things which happened after that were so great and beautiful that I cannot describe them"....he felt like he could describe them, yet the medication and tender awareness he felt at that moment prevented him from finishing.
His vision will remain brief and forever sublime. He was certain of several things though. The vision was a glimpse of perfect listening - the willingness to be swept upwards towards God with the gentlest of nudges - for God was in that field, and he spoke and was heard - or rather one could say - God spoke and everything in that field was listening.
There is of course a difference between hearing and listening. The great composer, Igor Stravinsky once said, “To listen is an effort, and just to hear is no merit. A duck hears also.” Hearing is easy. It is a gift to all but the deaf. Listening is a choice and an effort – which always requires a response. Simply hearing requires no response….And yet I wonder if there is not an even deeper level of awareness - as yet unnamed - listening not only to the words of someone, but discerning beyond that to the desires of their heart.
Dad possessed this rare and deeper level of listening. Years ago, one of his children asked him, "Dad, do you really believe the story of Noah's ark? I mean...do you really think that Noah lined up 2 tigers and 2 elephants and 2 mosquitoes and brought them onto a boat, and they sailed around while the world was drowned?"
Now...ask yourselves....how would you answer this question? One could spin off in so many ways, and get tangled up so easily. The question itself is a trap of sorts. This is how Dad answered this question.
He paused for several long seconds. This was his way – you can imagine an elevator inside him – it needed to progress upwards through his consciousness before his mouth opened and words came out. "Well...I think about it this way. If you believe in a God who created the world and everything in it. If you believe he made all these things from scratch, where there was nothing before. If you believe that he built that elephant without any help...If you believe all those things and also that God loves you - it isn't so hard to imagine, is it? He added, "I’ll be honest, I don't know if this story is true exactly as it appears, but with a God who did all those amazing things, something like that wouldn't be such a big deal, would it?
I think, in Dad's answer, is an example of this deeper kind of listening. He didn't listen only to the question, but had a sense of the longing underneath. He saw a child who believed and loved God, but who was looking down into the muck of the world, and not up to the splendour of our creator. This is God after all! The creator of the heavens and earth! Could he not have guided even a 3rd mosquito into a boat if he wished?!
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Robert Arthur Rose was born in the small town of Hanna, Alberta on Mar. 7th, 1943. He was the first child of three given to Pastor Bill Rose and his wife Anna. Bill and Anna lived as did many young pastors in Western Canada at the time - from day to day and on the grace of God. The menu was varied (eggs, fresh cream, potatoes, chicken, and on one occasion - BEAR!)- and was bound to the generosity of farmers among the congregation. After Bob's sister Vi was born, the family moved to the tiny town of Haywarden, Saskatchewan - where Bill pastored two churches. The family eventually settled in Kamloops, B.C, where Lois was born. They made their home in the basement of Kamloops Alliance church, where Bill served as pastor.
Little Bob would wander upstairs into the sanctuary, drawn by the pump organ and the piano - and spend hours tickling the keys while little sister Vi madly worked the organ pump. Not to worry, their musical collaboration was to become more equitable in the future when at 6 and 4 years old they made their radio debut singing "Born Among Cattle" in two-part harmony--always a source of great laughter to us kids!!
Bob's early fascination with the piano developed in him a magnificent ear and naturalness for music. He needed to be "strongly encouraged" (coerced) to play the piano in public, so his gifts likely remained hidden to most of us. He would groan at the mention of them as 'gifts', but gifts they were. His tinkering did not remain unnoticed at the church, and Bob was enlisted to play piano in the services. It is likely here where he developed his gentle interpretations of the great hymns.
Bob went to high school in Red Deer, Alberta, and in 1961 headed to the University of Alberta to study pre-med. Interesting to think what would have been if he had become a doctor? Can't you almost see him with a stethoscope hanging around his neck? It was not to be though – the required course of calculus managed to better him twice (a fact which was very reassuring to his kids in moments of failure). No matter, Bob would later become a healer of sorts - but not a healer of bodies. His interests directed him more deeply inside - to that place beneath the flesh, and he changed his major to Psychology, graduating with a Bachelor of Science in 1965.
The next decision in Bob's life was likely the one that brought him into most of our lives. As he was pondering his next move, a young lady in Southern California was also pondering hers. A cheerful and extroverted girl named Carol Dodds arrived in Regina, Saskatchewan in the late summer of 1966. She had come to attend the Canadian Bible College, and found herself pursued by a gentle man named Robert Rose.
At the time, students were not permitted to date in their first term, so Bob waited patiently until the end of term, and asked Carol on a date. She resisted him for a time….”too formal, too serious….too old” But his persistence won her over eventually and they began a lifelong journey together – the “formal, serious, old guy”, and the “fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants, will-chat-with-anyone….anytime…..anywhere, storm clouds part when they see her….kind a’ gal”.
Bob’s gifts were noticed early in his time at CBC, and he was asked to stay on a second year to teach Intro to Psychology. He and Carol both went to the University of Regina, where Bob obtained his Masters in Psychology (while still teaching part time at CBC).
The Bible College was not yet finished with him though….he was brought on to teach full time – a real ‘dog’s breakfast’ of courses, including —Psych, Greek, Christian Ed, and Women’s Phys. Ed (you probably didn’t see that one coming!).
After marrying Carol, three children arrived….first Barbara– the pragmatist – who against all predictions ended up taking after her mother; David, the musician and Tim the Cowboy – both of whom bear many of the marks of the “Rose male”.
Bob finished his formal studies at the U of Alberta, achieving a Doctorate in Educational administration. He returned to CBC to serve as the Academic Dean – a role he fulfilled for 11 years before becoming the President of the College in 1988. In 1996 Bob and Carol moved to White Rock after serving the Canadian Bible College and Seminary for 29 years of his life. The friendships which were forged in the cold prairies at CBC were among the most lasting and meaningful in the lives of Bob and Carol. The spirit and servants of the Christian and Missionary Alliance continued with Bob and Carol well after leaving CBC.
Since coming to the West Coast, Bob served as Associate Pastor at Pacific Community Church, and started his own business called ‘In-Vision’, which enabled him to exercise his gifts in strengthening the boards of churches, charitable organizations, and other institutions.
What he loved most though was working with individuals, coaching one-on-one--where he could help empower people to live out their God-given calling.
He was to continue this kind of work more formally after being invited to become Executive Administrator at the Canadian Pacific District office of the Christian and Missionary Alliance churches.
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In April 2011, Dad was diagnosed with urothelial carcinoma and kidney failure and given 12 to 18 months to live. We all marveled at the dialysis machine which became a frequent companion to him – a noble yet clutsy contraption of man, performing the same function as our ping pong ball sized kidneys do in each of our bodies. From this point, God gave him almost two years of good quality life in which he continued to exercise his gifts whenever he was able.
In February, the cancer began to advance rapidly to his liver. At around 10:30 pm, on March 5, 2013, just two days short of his 70th birthday, Dad's breathing became shallow, and he left the presence of his loved ones on earth for the open arms of his Savior, Jesus Christ.
One of Dad's favourite authors, Henri Nouwen, said, “The mystery of one man is too immense and too profound to be explained by another man.” I don’t think this ever stops us from trying though.
Knowing Dad, he would have considered his Eulogy utterly wasted trying to solve his own personal mystery. Yet he would have celebrated any attempt to dwell on the mystery of the God he served – for this was the topic closest to his heart.
Dad’s great gift, so utterly unique in the world, and so desperately needed – was to create the space needed to listen to God. Not to hear God, but to listen to him. To talk with Bob Rose was to briefly inhabit the grassy field of his vision – green grass gently swaying, a place of peace, where the lost sheep can be found. He heard the longing beneath our clumsy words, and directed our gaze to the loving Father above –who walked so closely with him all his life and in his final months, and with whom he walks right now.
Does it make you wonder if Bob ever felt – while in this world with us – that he was ever listened to with the depth of compassion and understanding with which he himself listened? I pause for a moment, wondering if this gift was ever returned to him – and then this pause transforms into a blaze of joy, imagining him in the loving arms of his Father in heaven – free of pain, worry, despair, completely understood and loved on a level we couldn’t possibly imagine. He is home at last.
