Donald Mitchell

A week ago, around this time, my friend Donald Mitchell was cycling home to St Brides Major from his job as librarian at Union School of Theology. He never made it. He was struck from behind by a car on the A48 and killed instantly. 

This is how the BBC reported it.

We got the news later that evening. It was devastating. Donald was a former colleague of mine from when I worked at WEST (as Union used to be called). He was also a fellow church member at FreeSchool Court in Bridgend.

People have stated how they enjoyed his banter. He could take it as well as give it out. Others have also chipped in of how helpful Donald was to students in the library. I think Donald always felt a little frustrated in the library with the lack of resources. With his experience he could have led a team doing the work that he did. As it was, he was the sole librarian, with help from volunteers. He didn't complain but just got on with it.

One thing I really appreciated about Donald was that he always arrived early, I think by a whole hour, in order to have quiet time with the Lord before the work started. 

He was also a disciplined man: he clearly struggled with staying trim so he watched his diet closely and I think twice a week had 'control days' in which he hardly ate anything at all.

But the thing I appreciated most about Donald, along with his widow Sian, was that he gave himself to generous hospitality. Many are the students and church members, and others I am sure, who were invited to their home for a meal. 

Hospitality is a neglected gift in the Western church. We have so much but many of us don't share that with others. Donald was a busy man and could easily have said that he works hard during the week so he needs his Lord's Days to rest. Hospitality doesn't blend with that mindset. Donald never complained about people coming over to his house - he enjoyed it. I think he and Sian simply saw a need and sought to use their energies and gifts and time to address that need.

I am sure many lives have been enriched as a result. And unbelievers have seen faith in action. At least one Korean student came to faith while taking a one-year course at the college. It is in the home that those who don't know Christ see his loveliness tangibly expressed - who will pick up the mantle that fell from Donald's shoulders?

Home - he never made it back to that home. But he did make it home in the truest sense of that word. "This world is not our home, we're just a-passing through." Donald understood that and lived by it. And now he stands in heaven enjoying unbroken communion with the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, with the angels and with the rest of that glorious multitude.

To close, I want to add the words that our former pastor, Stephen Clark, wrote a few days ago:

And the stately ships go on                                                                                                To their haven under the hill;                                                                                                        But O for the touch of a vanish’d hand,                                                                                             And the sound of a voice that is still.

     (Alfred, Lord Tennyson)                                                                                              

For the many who knew and loved him, Donald’s death has left an aching void in their hearts. The terrible pain which his dear wife and children feel must surely be indescribable, as is the great loss to his parents and to all of his family, to all of whom he was utterly devoted.

Donald had so many sterling qualities. As his pastor for 22 years, it was always sheer, unmixed joy to spend time with him, whether this was just chatting after a Sunday or mid-week meeting, at the Union library, or in his home. My wife Lynne and I spent many happy hours in Donald and Sian’s home because they were very much given to hospitality and together they were an ideal host and hostess. On numerous occasions we enjoyed a sumptuous Sunday lunch or a Saturday evening meal, sometimes just ourselves and at other times in company with others. The fellowship was always perfectly natural and spiritual: at one moment we could be sharing aspects of our Christian experience, then discussing the meaning of a passage of Scripture or the significance of a biblical doctrine, only to move on to family matters, aspects of gardening, current affairs or world history. The conversation was always interesting because Donald – and Sian – were so interesting.

God’s grace was very evident in Donald’s life. We were in the same home group for some years, a group which I led. He confided in me that he was aware of the fact that he may at times say too much in the study and that if this were so, I should ask him to be quiet. He was at pains to stress that he would not be at all offended if I were to do so but that he would be grateful: he was concerned for the benefit of the whole group. I was struck by his humility in speaking thus.

Donald had taken a course in what used to be called the Glasgow Bible Institute in the days when the godly and scholarly Geoffrey Grogan was its principal. Consequently Donald was more aware of certain theological issues and trends than would otherwise have been the case and he was concerned that he would not, in his comments in a home group, burden others with contributions which they might not find that relevant. I thought that this revealed the sort of sober self-knowledge which Paul commends in Romans 12:3 and which is encapsulated in the ancient Greek adage, ‘Know thyself’. At the same time, it meant that he was able to be of help to other believers who may not have seen as clearly as he that their understanding of a passage might be somewhat off beam. 

Donald was a conscientious information resources manager and librarian who, in the world’s eyes, must have taken a demotion by abandoning his career in secular academia to become the information manager and librarian at what used to be known as WEST and is now Union. It was, however, the opposite of demotion, for Donald had a sense of vocation to serve the students and faculty, as well as the wider church. To have a man of his qualifications and experience was surely a God-send. He worked hard and untiringly and was utterly devoted to the college. I can still see the flash of righteous anger in his eyes and the tone of indignation in his speech when, from time to time, unjust accusations were made that the college had abandoned evangelical truth. It was the more striking because Donald was essentially a gentle person.

Although a serious Christian, Donald did not take himself too seriously and had a great sense of humour and of fun. The fact that both he and I would be quite happy to wear clothes which others would regard as sartorially off the wall became the source of much amusement between us. In explaining to him why I had bought a pair of Italian trousers which others in the church thought to be more like pyjamas, I said that they had been a tremendous bargain. He replied, ‘Some bargains are best left where they are!’ We both roared with laughter. Apparently, given the Austrian blood in him, Donald had once been minded to buy a pair of Lederhosen – the kind of leather shorts which some Austrians wear, as well as being worn by Bavarians at their beer festivals. Sian had put her foot down. Mindful that Donald also had Scottish blood in him and having heard that it was possible to buy tartan Lederhosen, I playfully suggested to him that he should be the man in his house and the next time he went to Austria he should buy himself a pair. Sian said to me that if he did, she would never forgive me for having planted such an idea in his head. Again, there was hilarity all around.

One of the great things about Donald, to which I have already alluded, was that there was no dualism in him. I mean by this that he knew that the God of salvation is the God of creation and that God has given us all things richly to enjoy. This was why he was every bit as much at home in the garden or riding his bike through breath taking scenery, as he was when tracking down an obscure theological article for me or praying in a prayer meeting. 

Donald was a true friend and the Scripture says that faithful are the wounds of a friend. On two occasions he gently remonstrated with me or exhorted me, on both occasions in his capacity as librarian at Union. The first time was when I was explaining something to him on the phone which I had already explained in the past. We were both busy at the time and he felt that I was, therefore, wasting his time and mine. The second occasion related to my having kept a book longer than I really should have: it was Spurgeon who, with his characteristic wit, once said that many Christians were great book keepers but poor accountants! This having been said, Donald would let me borrow books on his card when I had reached the limit on my own. This was but one of the ways in which he served the wider church, for I know that I was not the only pastor to benefit from him being the librarian at Union.

And now he is no longer with us. The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away. Truly God’s ways are inscrutable to us. Who can fathom why Donald should have been taken when he was taken and in the way in which he was taken? Surely the only comfort for dear Sian, the three girls and the rest of the family is to be found in Jesus’ remarkable words to Peter about ‘the beloved disciple’, who was almost certainly the apostle John: ‘If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you?’ Ultimately when we die is in the hands of Jesus Christ. Donald had long since placed his trust in Jesus for life, for death and for eternity. He was safe and is safe. He shall be sorely missed.